by Qwillia Rain
Rising, she smoothed her hands over his T-shirt. “I want to make sure I truly understand the role a dominatrix would play, Dane. I don't want to mess this up.”
He kept his hands by his sides as she caressed the stretch of cotton over his pectorals and ribs. “I'll answer any questions you have. All you have to do is ask.”
“I understand a sub's primary concern is his mistress's pleasure. So does that mean the mistress's primary interest is in showing the sub when he is and isn't performing well?”
Dane stood still under her exploration. The firming of his nipples was visible under the smooth cotton, and she took the time to fondle the covered peaks with her fingers.
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“In some cases, yes, but as with a male Dom and female sub, making sure to reinforce a sub's understanding that their duty is to satisfy their Dom or Domme's wishes is paramount.”
“You explained to me that making the sub kneel, lower their eyes, and refer to the dominatrix as 'Mistress' or 'My Lady' are ways of reinforcing their position in the relationship.”
Dane nodded. “Yes.” His wry grin and direct gaze forestalled her next question. “But I won't do those things for you, Ariel, since I'm not a submissive. I have no inclination to submit or to be reminded of such a position.”
“So how can I prove I can be a Domme?” Ariel stepped back and set her hands on her hips; one of her bare feet tapped the tiled floor. “If you won't take on the role of submissive—”
“Outlast me.”
“Excuse me?” Ariel knew her expression was one of confusion.
“Show me you can control your body better than I can.” Dane grinned. “A Domme often masturbates her sub to orgasm without allowing him the privilege of actual intercourse. She controls whether his climax is swift or long and drawn-out.”
“Or denied altogether?” Memories of his denying her orgasm when he used the vibrator on her flashed through Ariel's mind, quickly followed by the lesson in chocolate she had conducted and his exercise in showing her different methods of punishment for a sub.
“If his behavior warrants it.” He hooked his finger into the top of her shirt and tugged her close. “Now, sprite, what did you have planned tonight, because I'm starving.”
Ariel fought the urge to ask what for? Based on the glint in his eye and the grin on his lips, she was sure he wouldn't list food.
“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head and stepped to the table to light the candle. “We're standing in a kitchen, Dane, so I get to be the boss.” Ariel wondered if Dane would recognize her challenge as she intended it. Simply an extension to the game they played in the café.
Dane conceded with a nod. “As you wish. What's your first directive?”
Ariel smiled. “Take off your clothes.”
To be honest, she had only intended to have him remove his T-shirt, but his comment about a Domme's right to masturbate her sub brought to mind the first time she'd directed him to pleasure himself. The original intent of that scene took on new meaning. Did she dare repeat it?
Could she reenact it without losing sight of the purpose of the exercise?
Dane complied. He shed each item, then carefully folded it and set it aside. His T-shirt came off first, then his shoes and socks before he added his jeans and boxer-briefs to the stack.
Ariel's mouth went dry. In the time he'd been sharing her bed, she'd got to know various details about Dane's erection. She knew he'd been circumcised as a child, that it would take more than one of her hands to encircle it, and that his balls were the most sensitive spot she'd found on his body. She also ached from the magic wand and butt plugs he'd introduced her to, the latter of which she'd taken to using under her clothes for a few hours while she worked during the afternoons at the café. Anticipation filled her every night he came over. Each time, she wondered if Dane would finally take her ass, but each night he left without doing so.
Maybe tonight?
“Sit—” She coughed and cleared her throat. “Sit in the chair and face the table.”
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Ariel pushed back her sleeves, then thought better of wearing the shirt with the dishes she'd prepared. Turning away, she undid the first few buttons, pulled the shirt over her head, and dropped it onto his neatly folded pile of clothes.
“I do love your tat.” Dane chuckled. He traced his fingers over the capital H and K and the pitchfork crossing them horizontally. “You never explained why you chose to put it there.”
Ariel glanced over shoulder and peeked at the inked design gracing her right butt cheek.
Looking up, she grinned as she met Dane's gaze. “Hey, Gordon Ramsay gets me hot, but every episode of Hell's Kitchen has me wanting to tell him to kiss my ass at least once.”
The smirk on Dane's face diminished as she faced him and let him get a good look at her outfit. The black leather bustier nipped in her waist and pushed her already ample assets into pillowy mounds with the nipples carefully concealed. The matching leather chaps hugged her hips and fastened at her waist and around the tops of her thighs, but they left her ass and pussy exposed. The only thing covering her was a small triangle of black silk. The V-string design of the thong left her ass revealed, but Ariel cared little about that.
Returning to the table, she picked up the smallest serving dish and removed the cover. “I hope you like sweet food.” She grinned.
Ariel stepped up next to him, then swung her leg over his lap so she straddled him in the chair.
Dane was sure this would be a true test of his ability to control his body. The scent of her arousal drifted up from her mound, and his cock jerked with interest. He'd been semihard all day, and her greeting at the door hadn't helped. His erection twitched as if it had sniffed out a prime piece of real estate and was ready to buy. Dane forced himself to remain calm as she lifted the bowl to his chin.
She took her time swirling her finger through the contents before she plucked out three or four coated almonds and held them to his lips. The bite of spicy chili mixed with the mellow flavor of honey. He sat straighter on the chair even as his lips closed over her fingers, and his tongue curled over the pads to suck off the warm, sticky coating.
Once he'd licked away every bit of the honey, his hands rose to settle on her hips, but she shook her head at him.
“No, no.” She waggled her finger. “Hands by your sides. No touching without permission.”
Dane slid his hands along the outsides of her thighs, teasing her before he settled them on the edge of the chair near his hips.
Five more times she served the deliciously spicy almonds. Each time her fingers set the nuts on his tongue, he took his time cleaning any residual honey from her fingertips.
Ariel leaned down and pressed her lips against Dane's, lapping up the little bit of flavor and stickiness clinging to his lips. Before he could deepen the caress, she eased away, set the almonds down, and covered them before selecting the next dish.
He watched her uncover it and pick up a small white roll similar to an unfried egg roll. She then dipped it into a tiny dish in the middle of the platter. Holding his gaze, she lifted it to her lips and bit down. His mouth watered at the crunch of fresh vegetables and the pungent scent of shrimp. If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was fresh spring rolls. It didn't matter if they had An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
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shrimp in them. The ache of his cock surpassed his growling stomach with every second he watched her eat the savory treat.
She dipped the roll again, then lifted it to her lips, but this time she took too long to reach her mouth and some of the sauce dripped onto her chin and breasts.
Still astride his lap, she leaned close. Her expression was innocent, but her breasts were a sinful temptation. He sniffed as he dropped his chin and lapped the golden fluid from her cleavage; the spicy sauce only made the enticement that much harder to pass up.
“Open,” she whispered in his ear.
Lifting his head, he did as instructed, opened his mouth, and bit through the rice-paper wrapping. The blend of noodles and shrimp, crunch of bell pepper, and spice of the sauce were familiar, but he was curious about the scent and taste of mint, along with the unique peppery flavor he couldn't quite place. “What did you use in these?”
She smiled as she dipped the end of the roll and popped it into his mouth. “You like?”
He nodded, savoring the taste as he chewed.
“Most of it you probably know.” She dipped a second roll and took a bite.
“I recognize the shrimp, bell peppers, noodles, carrots, and celery, but I've never had mint or pepper in a spring roll.” Watching her dip the roll and carry it toward his mouth, Dane noticed the heavy coating of sauce. The way it dribbled over her fingers and splashed onto his abdomen.
He took the rest of the roll and chewed, but his interest in the ingredients waned as her fingers wiped at the golden liquid, smearing the sauce more than cleaning it up.
“Hmm, I seem to have made a mess. Stay still.” Her gaze held his as she eased one leg between his and lowered her bottom onto his right thigh.
When she broke eye contact, Dane suspected what she would do next and made an effort to chew and swallow his food before her mouth opened over his belly. He barely made it. Hard as his cock was, his hips jerked upward at the brush of her cheek against his shaft. Her tongue swirled through the dusting of hair below his navel before it dipped into the depression and lapped up the bit of sauce that had spilled inside. Making her way upward, she sucked and licked at the seasoned oils coating his skin. Her wet pussy rocked over the tensed muscles in his thigh.
His fingers gripped the seat to keep from directing her mouth south to the leaking tip of his dick. The thick piece of meat in question had ideas of its own; it grew harder and arched closer to his abdomen, bumping against Ariel's chin as she did one last swipe of her tongue from his sternum to his navel. A whisper of a kiss brushed its sensitive crown as Ariel stood up and reached for one of the napkins on the table.
She held his gaze and licked the sauce from her fingers, her mouth lingering to suck on the very tips before she wiped her hands off on the napkin. Ariel reached for the dish of sauce and cradled it in her left palm before she selected another roll from the plate.
After straddling his lap, Ariel dipped the roll into the sauce, then used it like a paintbrush to coat the firm muscles of his chest. He gritted his teeth at the sting of the chili seasoning in the sauce and the cool slide of the rice paper over his skin.
When she raised the morsel to his lips, he held her gaze and devoured nearly half of it in a single bite. Pieces of noodle, shrimp, and vegetable escaped the leftover half and dropped into the sweet and spicy mixture glistening on his flesh.
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Her tongue slid between her lips and stroked over and around his pectorals. Her teeth nipped at the solid muscle beneath his skin every time it twitched or flexed. His nipples ached, their firm crowns tight and begging for attention. Dane panted and tried to maintain control following the scrape of her teeth across each firm peak. She opened her mouth over first one, then the other.
Finally she lifted her head; her lips were wet and swollen, but the fire in her eyes was growing. Determined to turn the tables on her, he lifted his hand to cradle the one she cupped the dipping sauce in. “May I feed you?”
Caution dimmed the heat in her gaze, but she nodded. Dane lifted the sauce from her hand and the remaining bit of roll from her other, then leaned forward to place both on the table behind her. He made sure the heated length of his cock pressed firmly against the wet panel of her panties. Shifting his hands to her waist, he pulled her closer and stroked along the side and back of her garment before he raised his fingers to the first hook.
“My skill won't be as good as yours. And I wouldn't want to ruin your clothes. Perhaps we should take them off?” He kept his voice low and his gaze on hers as he caressed the warm curves of her breasts with his middle, ring, and pinkie fingers, while his index fingers and thumbs played with the fasteners.
He was sure Ariel could read the intent in his deep blue eyes, but he could see her determination not to back away from his challenge.
Propping her elbows on the table behind her, she grinned. “Wise idea. You may remove my top.” She waited a heartbeat, long enough for him to slip the first hook free before she added,
“We wouldn't want you to earn a punishment for soiling my new leathers.”
Dane met her gaze with a brow arched over his left eye. His silent admonition only egged her on. He wanted to see how far she'd go. A second hook was released. Ariel's gaze drifted down. With each loosened hook, she rocked forward and back, rubbing against the base of his cock. Her gaze tracked the spill of his semen as it slid over the reddened, plum-shaped head, then coasted over the throbbing veins and the thick ridge of tissue along the underside of his penis.
He watched her shiver in response to the wash of cool air over her sweat-dampened breasts and belly. Ariel's attention returned to Dane's progress as he slid the bustier from around her and dropped it to the floor beside the table. Holding her gaze, Dane reached past her shoulders to collect the bowl and spring roll, then waited, measuring her level of control.
It was there, held tight and close. The knowledge that she worked to rein in her desire to match his reinforced his intent to show her how his mastery would complete her. She'd sworn never to submit to him, but her body told him otherwise.
The problem he could see forming was her unreasoning intent to best him at his challenge.
She seemed to worry about being under his command, despite what her betraying body might suggest. It was his responsibility to show her she had nothing to fear.
With that in mind, he cupped the bowl in his palm. “Dip it like this, right?” he asked, the roll poised over the sauce for the briefest of moments Ariel nodded. She scrutinized his every move. Her expression revealed her suspicions that she might end up wearing part of the chili-ginger sauce.
And Dane didn't disappoint her. A sharp shift of his hand sent a tiny wave over the lip of the bowl. Golden fluid splashed onto the side of one breast and her belly. More dribbled over his fingertips and down onto her navel and lower abdomen. A soft gasp slipped from her lips.
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“Oh, I am sorry.” Dane's apology carried all the sincerity of a Ponzi schemer promising to pay back his investors.
“Lick it up,” she ordered. Leaning forward, she ate half the roll he held between his fingers. Her gaze held his as she slowly chewed.
Dane set the bowl back on the table. “As you wish.” He smiled. Lowering the last bit of roll to her belly, he used it to wipe up some of the spilled sauce. His tongue followed the slow slide of rice paper along her skin; it lapped up anything left behind. The stroke of it over her skin made Ariel gasp, and Dane grinned at the flex of her muscles under his lips. When he lifted his head, he popped the roll into his mouth and chewed quickly.
She wouldn't be outdone. “Give me your hand.” Ariel tapped the back of his right hand, the fingers still slick with sauce.
Dane held it up to her.
Her gaze locked with his, Ariel wiped the backs of his fingers over her breasts, smearing the sauce onto her nipples, then took each of his fingers, one at a time, into her mouth and sucked off the lingering moisture. Once finished, she released his hand, rested her elbows on the table behind her, and smiled up at him. “First clean my breasts.”
“And then?” Dane waited. He stroked his hands over her belly before he rubbed his fingers along her wet panties.
“You must have spilled some on my pussy, so you'll have to lick it up as well,” Ariel advised him.
Dane was sure her amusement was in response to the humor that flashed in his eyes.
“Hmm, I don't recall—”
“Are you questioning me? Refusing to follow an order
in my kitchen?” She tilted her head to the side and lifted her eyebrows.
“No, merely stating a recollection.” Dane smirked as he lowered his head to slide his tongue over her peaked nipples.
“Mmm.” Ariel's eyes closed. She tipped her head back; the look on her face reflected a sensual enjoyment of the swipe of his tongue along her skin, the tug of his teeth, and the suction of his mouth as he suckled first one breast, then the other. “You have a very talented mouth, Dane. I'll have to make sure to put it to good use.”
The nip of his teeth on the slope of her breast startled a cry from her lips. She sat up to stare down at him.
“Did that hurt?” He tried to look guileless, but he sensed Ariel's inner rebel stirring at the warning in his gaze.
“No, merely surprised me.” She shrugged.
As his mouth finished cleaning the last of the sauce from one breast and traveled to the other, Ariel dropped one hand from the table to grip the thick length of his cock. Precum glistened on the bulbous tip with a few dribbles trailing down to his balls. Squeezing tight, she dragged her fist from base to tip and back down in several quick jerks, drawing a hiss from Dane's lips.
“Too tight?” she cooed, assuming a wide-eyed, innocent look.
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Dane shook his head and leaned back in the chair. Settling his hand over hers, he halted the motion and drew a deep breath. His other hand plucked at the wet silk covering her mound.
“What shall I do with these?”
Ariel grinned. “Anything you'd like.” She slipped her hand from beneath his and returned her elbow to the table behind her.
The thin elastic snapped easily in his fists. He discarded the thong on the floor beside his chair. The black leather chaps framed her naked mound. The evidence of her arousal shimmered on her skin.
“Have you forgotten what I told you to do?” Ariel asked with a teasing smile.
“No, merely evaluating the best method.” Dane stroked his fingers over the plump folds and dipped between them to trace the wet entrance to her body.
