Vegas Curves (A Masters of the Game BBW Erotic Romance)

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Vegas Curves (A Masters of the Game BBW Erotic Romance) Page 10

by Christa Wick


  Putting the cane aside for the moment, his hand grips my pussy and begins to massage my labia. He strokes my clit as he tongues the other nipple. His fingers fuck into me fast and hard in rough contrast to the gentle licks and bits around my breast. I arch, all four limbs straining against the cuffs.

  "Not yet, baby." His fingers take one last stroke against my clit before he grabs the cane again.

  Moving to the foot of the bed, Luke climbs onto the mattress and kneels between my spread legs. He stares at my pussy -- the lips held back by the rubbery clamps attached to my stockings, the flesh sopping wet from my arousal and the lube he used to fist deep into my cunt.

  My clit bobs with the contractions running through me. Luke lightly drags the tip of the cane down the length of my shaft until he reaches the hood. He pushes the dangle left, then right. The strike lands before I realize it has begun. I jerk, my body electrified by the contact of the thin metal strip against the highly sensitive flesh.

  He strikes again, the hits targeting my thick labia and along the hard ridge of my clit. When I am moaning and bouncing against the mattress with fresh arousal, he returns to my nipples, the force a little harder than when he first brought them to swollen peaks. Caning my breasts, he fingers my pussy. My hands curl into fists. I try to draw my knees up as the tension keeps folding inward, like a star collapsing under its own density.

  He brings the cane back down to my pussy in a fast dance of metal and flesh.

  "Please!" I beg him to let me come, the faint, flashing pain the cane brings just enough to push me back from the edge of my release.

  Luke tosses the cane aside. He palms my mound, his thumb pressing and wiggling against my clit as he fucks three fingers from the other hand deep into my pussy. I am close, so close that I am screaming my need when he withdraws his fingers.

  He covers me, his chest pushing against my breasts as he holds his cock steady with one hand and sinks its full length into my cunt. I am swollen inside, the tissue and muscles battered from his earlier invasion. Thrusting into me a second time, he buries his face against my throat. He kisses, bite and licks from shoulder to ear as he uses his entire body to fuck in and out of my cunt.

  The fat head drags through me, hitting new pleasure centers. With my labia still held open by the clips, I can feel the hard rub of his lower abdominals against my clit. I want to wrap my arms around him and dig my nails into his flesh, securing him to me until we are both locked in the spasm of release. But I am bound and at his mercy.

  I come first, jerking and crying. No words, just guttural polysyllables twisted and bent by my orgasm. I squirt, making my already sopping pussy wetter so that his cock thrusts in and out of me with thick squelching noises.

  Luke moans, grinds, and then his teeth are denting the skin along my jawline as he freezes. His cock jerks inside me, hard upward recoils as semen shoots through his shaft. Only when the last spurt releases does the bite turn to a kiss.

  Panting, he pushes up on his elbows. Not meeting my questioning gaze, he rests his forehead against the center of my chest, just below where the clavicles end. His legs shift so that his weight is on his knees and his torso is off me. His hands caress my sides as a he slowly backs off the bed. He kisses me as he goes, a breast, the swell of my stomach, the top of my mound.

  He pauses to remove the clips then he is off the bed. The ankle cuffs come off. Still looking anywhere but at my face, he massages them until he is certain that the blood flow is fully restored. He climbs back onto the bed and straddles me, his cock and balls heavy as they rest against my chest so he can lean forward and free my hands.

  He moves until he is straddling my hips, then massages each arm.

  I close my eyes. There is no point keeping them open -- he won't look at me.

  "Luke…" I whisper his name, but my pain is audible.

  His weight pushes down at me again. His hands roam my body. He strokes a shoulder, nuzzles my neck, kisses just below my ear. Each gesture hurts more than the cane ever could.

  This is good-bye. I know it.

  I do not consciously move a muscle but every inch of me is moving. I am shaking as I try to hold the tears back. My mind searches for the moment I wrongly convinced myself this was more than a good-bye fuck. I remember the intimacy of his tongue and lips, the domination of his fist inside me. Yes, those two points had fooled me.

  "Baby, you're not listening."

  He is right. Yet again, my thoughts are drowning out the rich timbre of his voice. I suck a sobbing breath in and hold it until I can shape the words without my emotions jackhammering them into something incomprehensible. "What did you say?"

  He rubs his nose against mine. "I love you."

  He loves me?

  Several long seconds pass while I repeat the phrase inside my head. It is slippery, elusive, and I'm not sure I have it correct.

  Luke Masters loves me…

  "Don't be rude, love." He admonishes me with a light chuckle but I can hear the tension in his laugh.

  I ponder the new information. I am being rude, but how? Right -- he said he loved me. He meant it. I haven't said anything in return. I wrap my arms around his head and kiss him. I kiss him again, more than once -- the words and the kisses colliding against one another.

  "I love you," I say, my lips against his cheek, his temple, and finally his mouth. "I love you."

  When I am all kissed out, Luke cups my face. His gaze and expression are solemn, hurt even. "You weren't really going to leave me tomorrow, were you?"

  Crying, I nod. "You didn't ask me to stay."

  His bottom lip bobs, almost a quiver, and then he shakes it off. For a long minute, he says nothing. I realize he is hard again. Reaching down, he grabs my leg and tugs until I am open. His mouth presses against my neck, sucking above the line of a vein, and he slowly pushes into me. When he is fully embedded, he braces his hands against the sides of my face and looks at me.

  "Stay with me, love."

  He bends his head. Our lips meet, the kiss the sweetest I have ever tasted. When it ends, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him to me with a promise.

  "I will."

  Thank you!

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