“Pain,” she whispered, smoothing her palms over his heaving back. “For you, it’s as good as me sucking your cock. Isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he ground out.
“But not just any pain, Donovan. You need it delivered just right. You need someone who understands what it does for your body. How to balance it with the pleasure until you can’t separate them any longer. These sessions are meant to help me learn exactly where your pain and pleasure thresholds are and from what I’m seeing, you’re very close to coming. If I gave you the last blow right now, you’d be done. Game over.” She trailed her fingertips up over his shoulder as she worked her way back before him, then down his pectorals to bounce over each rib and washboard ab. “But these sessions are also meant to teach you exactly what kind of Mistress I am. Where my tolerance and sense of mercy extends and my desire to watch you suffer and squirm begins. And I have to tell you, lover boy, it makes me so wet to watch you strain to free yourself. I can’t help but picture what you’d do if you were free.”
“I’d be on you so fast…”
She smiled and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock. “You’d be fucking me in earnest. Instead, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to make your knees give out. I’m going to make you shout so loudly half a dozen boats are going to come up here to investigate, afraid someone’s getting murdered.”
Casually, she pumped him, bringing him to the very edge. His cock strained in her hand, iron hard and so hot and swollen with need it took her own control not to strip off her panties, push him down on his back, and ease both of their torment. She dropped her hand, took a step back and just watched him struggle to control himself. His face was red with effort, his eyes blazing, sweat dripping off him like she’d made him run a marathon. Every breath whistled through his clenched lips. But he held it.
“Very good, you sexy beast.”
Her words made him arch again, a low growl rattling from his chest.
“Oh, yes, growl at me. I love it. Nothing turns me on more than the soft fragile whimpers and the desperate, bossy demands my sub makes when he’s trying to get me to put him out of misery. But you’ll learn, Donovan, there’s very little that will sway me. Your safeword will. Or some form of ‘Please, Mistress, I’m begging you, I need to come so bad’. Those are the only words I want to hear. Otherwise, you can wait until I’m good and ready to let you come.”
Quivering right on the edge of release, Donovan fought to keep his mouth shut and his knees locked.
I wanted this. Remember? I ached for it. I sought her out, hunting her down and devising an entire blackmail scheme if needed to get her right here torturing me.
He couldn’t see through the sweat blinding his eyes. His throat and chest hurt from sucking in all the hot humid air and he stunk to high heaven, as rank as a prime bull in full musk. Every single mark burned like a brand in his skin until his ass felt like it was swollen and roasted by the merciless sun.
No, it’s Mistress L who’s merciless.
Sitting back down before him, she waited until he managed to control his breathing a little. The sight of her sitting there in the royal blue lingerie he’d picked for her was agony. He wanted to shred the lace from her body to reveal those lush, full breasts. He wanted her hard nipples pressed against his chest. He wanted his tongue beneath the silk covering her crotch. If only I’d gone to my knees as soon as I saw her. Maybe she really would have let me taste her again.
He certainly didn’t want her sitting, her incredible lips and tongue in front of him ready to torment him with the softest little caresses. It also meant he wasn’t going to get the last blow anytime soon.
Staring at her mouth, it took him a moment to realize something was tickling his legs. He glanced down and saw the crop sliding between his thighs. He’d braced his feet wide apart to keep his balance on the gently swaying deck, which had unfortunately given her plenty of access to the tender skin of his inner thighs. Not to mention his balls. Of course now that she had the crop there, he didn’t dare squeeze his legs shut like a shy little virgin. His pride wouldn’t allow it. Even if she gave him the last blow on his scrotum.
“You’re so close to coming that your balls are tight to your body. I think if I licked you now, you’d give me a different kind of cream pie to sample.”
He shuddered, both horrified and turned on by the thought of coming on her face. He respected her too much to want to use her like that, yet he couldn’t deny the appeal, either.
“One of these times I’m going to have to try my three-way cock ring. It’ll keep your balls pulled away from your body while squeezing all that blood right where I want it.”
Again, a mixture of horror and searing desire flooded his mind. She’d control everything about his body, his release, even the position of his balls. It was humiliating…and so damned hot he sagged a moment before he caught himself and stiffened his legs.
The muscle in his right quadriceps cramped, a sharp, hard pain that only added to the misery.
“I even have a cock ring with a chain attached to it. Then I could lead you around like Hank. Wouldn’t that be fun? Maybe I’d take you out for a walk, too, all dressed up in your shiny collar and your cock ring. My, what a pretty picture you would make.”
He opened his mouth to retort shut up, quit tormenting me with all these erotic, forbidden images! But he couldn’t speak to the Mistress like that. She might be on his yacht, his domain, but here in this moment, she was the ruler of his universe. If he displeased her she’d do worse than refuse to let him come.
She’d just walk away.
The thought of the coming winter…all those long, cold nights. Alone. No warmth. The emptiness. The agony. Now that he’d had a taste of what she could give him, he couldn’t lose it. He’d go mad, a rabid dog who’d have to be put down to protect everyone around him. I’d rather lose every dime, every building, every business, even my father and grandfather’s boats, than ever lose her.
The crop rubbed against his scrotum and higher, sliding into the crease of his ass with a deliberate bend of her wrist to angle it just so. She used enough pressure to force him up on his toes, to make him fully aware of exactly where she touched him. Leather slid and rubbed deeper, driving him insane. Nerve endings burned at the newfound stimulation. He squeezed his eyes shut, determined to last. Determined to stand up against the torment. To take it.
Like a man.
The thought dragged a choked sound from him, half laugh, half sob.
Her free arm came around his waist and she rubbed her face against his stomach. She had enough pity for him that she was careful not to touch his cock, but her cheek and mouth against his stomach was almost as bad. Her hand kneaded his ass cheek again. He couldn’t recall a woman squeezing and stroking his ass. Ever. Let alone as diligently as Mistress L. Her fingers were so strong and confident, sure she had full and complete license to touch him in any way she wanted. He’d signed his body over to her, willingly and completely.
In this, I’m her willing and eager slave.
The thought rocked him back on his heels and he sagged again, almost falling against her. Her fingers pulled on his buttock, separating his cheeks more fully for the wicked gliding crop. He’d known the anus was full of nerve endings, but pride, again, had kept him from ever allowing exploration. He wasn’t gay, so he’d stupidly kept the area off limits, but even more grievously ignorant, he’d marked possible interest instead of none on the questionnaire. He hadn’t given Mistress L enough credit at the time to understand she would take him no holds barred. No hesitation. Nothing was too dirty for her if either one of them would find pleasure in it.
With the crop pressing against him and his body throbbing with new sensation, he knew all too well what pleasure she could find there.
“Have you ever had anything in your ass, Donovan?”
He jerked against her, helpless and unable—unwilling—to defend himself. His shoulders ached with strain. His thighs quivered as if he’d swu
m laps around the lake instead of cruising in his boat. “No, Mistress.” His voice shook as badly as his legs but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.
I could tell her my safeword.
But I won’t.
And she knows it.
A sudden peace washed over him, a calm he’d never known. Whatever happened was out of his hands. He’d signed his name on her dotted line. He’d given himself over to her. She could do as she willed to him. Nothing would stop her from taking exactly what she wanted, even if that meant she pulled out a monstrously large strap-on dildo from the black bag and started fucking him with it.
His knees buckled and he fell before her, trembling.
“There you go, sweet boy. That’s what I wanted to see.” Her arms remained around him, her hands rubbing over his back and ass to soothe and comfort him, gentle and loving and kind. Not punishing. Not cruel. “There’s the utter and complete submission I wanted you to give me.”
She stood, urging him to turn and give her room. To give her access to whatever she wanted. He knew what she wanted. She’d already told him. So he bent forward, pressed his face to the padded deck, and lifted his ass high in the air.
The crop came down in the hardest blow she’d given him, his immediate reward for obeying her, even if it’d taken him agony to get there. He groaned out a harsh, desperate cry, arching his back, his body begging for another blow, even though he knew it was too late. She’d promised only six blows. And that was the sixth.
He’d fought and wrestled with his pride so long that now a release felt like a distant, receding door, and he was trapped in a nightmare hallway that only grew longer the harder he tried to escape. The words were there. The words he’d sworn he wouldn’t give any woman. Pleas and cries, desperation burning in every overused muscle until he couldn’t stand it. His pride was shattered, broken down into a thousand shards, slicing his throat and keeping the words locked inside.
Luckily for him, she must have decided he’d given enough, at least for this scene.
“You gave me what I wanted, Donovan. So I’m going to give you exactly what you need.”
The crop came down again and again, a steady rhythm, one cheek and then the other. He’d never been able to last so long. Other Mistresses had spanked him and he’d been humiliated at how quickly he’d exploded. He’d sworn he’d seen a knowing smirk in their eyes. Now he knew why he’d been unable to control himself and also why he hadn’t gone back to any of those other women.
They hadn’t been able to control him either. They hadn’t taken the time to figure out how his brain worked, to learn what he needed so desperately. Pain alone wasn’t enough, not completely. He needed to be conquered.
He needed to surrender. Like this. Beyond his pride, beyond any sense of humiliation and shame. He needed to find a Mistress who could bring him to this place and keep him hovering on the edge of release, unable to come.
Until she allowed it.
She pressed against the backs of his thighs, straddling his feet on her knees to get close. Her hands kneaded his swollen ass and she pressed her hips against his hamstrings, rocking him, a reverse doggie style that had never entered his mind with a woman.
She could take me like this. I’d be completely under her control.
His arms were pinned in the small of his back. His face to the floor. His ass on fire and completely vulnerable. And his cock was so hard and swollen it didn’t even feel like his any longer. Like his brain didn’t even connect to it, nerves and muscle severed by her will alone.
She wrapped her palm around it in a hard, firm squeeze that made him buck helplessly beneath her. “Come, Donovan. Come for me.”
It was like her words plugged his cock back into his brain and ten thousand bolts of live electricity arced through his body. He convulsed, shaking, unable to stop. And yeah, by the way his ears rang and his throat ached, he must have yelled as loudly as she threatened before he was done.
Curled up on his side, he fought not to cry like a baby while she unbuckled his wrists and then wrapped around his back. “I’m sweaty and gross,” he finally managed to say despite his raw throat. “Don’t—”
“Shhh.” She burrowed closer and tightened her arms around him. “Be still a moment. Let me hold you. It’s all right, Donovan. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her gentle words tore through the last bit of his reserve and he shook in her arms. Great, racking sobs wrenched from him like she reached inside and yanked them out with her fist. Everything dissolved inside him. Everything he would have sworn he believed or knew about himself. Gone. Everything he’d fought his whole life to obtain. Worthless. Everything he’d ever wanted or felt with another woman paled in comparison. If she told me to stop breathing right this very moment, I’d simply die on the spot, gasping like a fish on the beach.
He lost track of time, unable to estimate how long he cried. How long she held him. He’d never broken down like that before. Even when his mother had died when he was just a boy. Or when he’d found his father gone in his sleep. The loss of his only family hadn’t devastated him as much as this woman’s simple command.
Terror clawed at his stomach, making him hunch against the pain. He tried to move away from her a little, to protect himself, but she wouldn’t allow it. She was stronger than she looked, but more…
I’m weaker than I ever thought I was.
How could she ever desire him again as a man? After breaking him down so completely?
It shouldn’t surprise him that she could crack open his skull and look inside his most secret thoughts.
“It takes quite an impressive man to accept the full force of his need like you just did. You could have walked away at any time. All you had to do was give me your safeword. Instead, you chose to take the journey with me. You trusted me to see you safely to the other side. There’s nothing sexier to me than a man who’s secure enough in his masculinity to let me explore his needs to the fullest, to give him the most pleasure I can possibly wring from every inch of his body. Yet that’s exactly what you just allowed me to do, and I thank you most humbly for it.”
He still couldn’t quite believe her words. He was too raw, too tender and shredded inside to believe a sexy, passionate woman like her could still want him. After she brought me to my knees. After I fell apart in her arms.
“Roll over.” She growled against his ear in one of the meanest, harshest voices he’d ever heard her use. Every submissive bone in his body immediately moved to obey, even if his muscles felt rubbery and elastic. “Look at me.”
He didn’t even realize he’d squeezed his eyes shut. He pried them open, braced to see disgust, disdain, some kind of distance in her eyes.
Not the sweet, glorious light that Andy Wells had managed to capture in those snapshots.
“You’re one hell of a man, Donovan Morgan,” she retorted fiercely, “and I want you more than ever. If I thought I could get a rise out of your exhausted cock, I’d take you in my mouth right this very moment until I could get you hard enough to take you inside me.”
He couldn’t say anything, still shaken and off balance.
“You don’t believe me?” She took his hand and slid both of their fingers into her panties. “Then what’s this, Donovan?”
She was so wet the silk of her panties was drenched and stuck to her flesh.
Awed, he watched her rise up on her knees. Using her own hand, she pushed his fingers into her, grinding her hips so she could ride him. She kept her own fingers in her panties too, rubbing herself while he thrust his fingers inside her. Moaning, she didn’t hold anything back. She let her head drop back, her breasts bouncing with the force of her movements, unrestrained and so wild and passionate it took his breath away.
And yeah, maybe his eyes burned again. Just a little.
“Who made my pussy so wet? Who’s all this cream for, Donovan? Who’s driving me crazy now? Say it.”
“Me.”
“And what do you want
me to do most of all right this very minute?”
Her muscles contracted around his fingers, as hungry and desperate and needy as he’d been. He twisted and worked his hand deeper until he could get another finger shoved inside her. “I want you to come. Come for me, Lilly, and only me.”
And she did with a piercing shout that scared the last bird out of the tree he hadn’t already driven away.
Chapter Thirteen
It was a quiet trip back to the dock, but Lilly wasn’t concerned about his mental state or wellbeing. Not when he held her hand all the way back to his house. Or when he scooped her up into his arms and carried her all the way up those sweeping marble stairs to his bedroom.
Sensing his need to reestablish his virility after breaking down so completely, she let him take the lead and do exactly what he wanted. When he fell on her like a starving beast, she met him with legs open wide. He ripped through the designer clothing he’d bought her as carelessly as if she’d picked up her outfit at a thrift shop. Breathing hard, he didn’t stop to assess whether she was ready or not. No foreplay was needed. Not after what they’d done on his boat.
And yeah, he might have chosen plain old missionary, but even the Mistress had to agree there was something deliciously erotic about having a powerful man flexing and moving on top of her so savagely. His shoulders and back flexed, each thrust punctuated by a grunt of force. He pounded her so brutally he drove her across the mattress. Flailing, she tried to grip the sheets to keep from slipping, but pillows fell to the floor, along with a lamp and whatever else he had on the bedside table.
They ended up tight against the wall, one of his hands braced on the headboard and his other kneading her breast until she clawed his back. Donovan Morgan was a quick study. He didn’t need a manual to figure out how hard she liked his hands and oh, yes, his palms were big, his fingers long and elegant, perfect for tormenting her nipples. Combined with his impressive size and seeming determination to drive her through the wall, she came twice and promptly fell asleep.
The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) Page 13
