Page 22 of Over the Line
You really are a brat. With a chuckle, he released her wrists. “Put your hands behind your back. Spread your knees farther apart.”
With a scowl, she did as he requested.
He removed his hat, then flicked his wrist to send it onto the nearby stool before running his hand through his short hair.
“It’s darker than I expected, Sir. I want to get my fingers in the strands.”
“You can hold it when you’re on top of me.”
“Promise, Sir?”
She definitely should have come with a warning label.
He lay on the floor and shifted so that his face was between her legs. “Your clit is still swollen.” He took hold of her waist and pulled her down, forcing her legs farther apart and bringing her lower so that her pussy was mere inches from his face. “Keep your hands where they are. Now move your hips.”
“Dear God.”
He grasped her labia and tugged. “This skin was made for clamps.”
His threat made her jerk.
“That’s a girl. Keep moving. Just like that.”
“This is embarrassing, Sir.”
“Get your clit on my tongue or it will be a cold day in hell before you have that orgasm.”
She moved, and he took the opportunity to pinch her clit. Yelping, she jerked, and the movement threw her off balance, bringing her into contact with his mouth. Exactly what he’d hoped would happen.
He licked her from back to front.
“I…”
“Fuck my face, little sub. I won’t tell you twice.”
The position was obviously awkward for her, but she did so. He tongued her, sucked her clit, captured her around the legs, and held her prisoner as he ate her, showing his appreciation. With a moan, she writhed helplessly. Then, when he brought her to the edge, he stopped.
“Damnable man, Sir.”
He grinned and went back to work. This time, he stuck his tongue inside her, savoring her feminine taste.
She lifted up onto her knees, off his face, even though he tried to hold her in place.
“That’s… It’s too much, Sir.”
“Not nearly enough,” he countered. “Get back into place.”
Her muscles were tight as she complied.
He used his tongue to make her wet and to lap up her intoxicating juices. The moment she made soft mewling sounds, he once again ceased what he was doing.
“Argh!”
“Nice try. But your body gave you away. You’ll not be sneaking in any orgasms, I’m afraid.” He let her go and smacked her right ass cheek. “Kneel up properly.” When she did, he moved out from beneath her.
He rose to stand in front of her, and she tilted her head back to look at him. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were wide. The earlier hostility was gone. Her hands were still linked behind her back as he’d requested. Despite her apparent frustration, she seemed softer. “In answer to your question, no. It appears your orgasm will not be happening this century.”
“Master Michael, you are a beast.”