Page 24 of Over the Line

“My pleasure.” He twisted her nipple then released the clip onto it, not right at the edge as that would cause her too much pain, but a little farther back so that she could tolerate the tension.

He tugged on the makeshift clamp, making sure it was secure. “It should stay on,” he said. “It would probably hurt if it came off accidentally.” Then, just because he could, he flicked it a couple of times.

Arching her back in response, she didn’t complain.

“That’s a good sub.” Her response sounded suspiciously like a growl. “Shall I place the other or leave you lopsided?”

“I don’t suppose we could remove this one so that they’d match, Sir?”

Michael kept the smile from his face, but not his voice. “After all the trouble I’ve gone to?”

“Of course not. What was I thinking, Sir?”

“Hope springs eternal, doesn’t it?” He moved around her, admiring her from multiple angles.

Her long blonde hair hung in wild abandon, and he was tempted to grab a fistful as he slammed into her from behind.

It took all his self-control to think only about her, about increasing the pleasure of her upcoming orgasm. He could wait. Surely.

He leaned down to play with her right breast, plumping it, releasing it. She moaned and moved away from him, so he toyed with the clamp he’d already placed.

“Sir!”

“Sub?”

That she didn’t turn and slay him with a single glance told him she was sinking into the scene.

Michael hoped nothing else matched the high of being with him—a Dom intent on giving her a unique, all-consuming experience.

He gently swatted her right breast and teased the nipple into an erect state. She dropped her head, and he took advantage of her distraction to place the clamp.

“Oww.”

“You’ll be all right.” He caressed her flesh. “Your swollen flesh looks hot.” He captured her chin and turned her head so that he could read her expression. Her eyes were wide, and they had a glazed look to them, making the blue even more startling. “How’s your pussy? Are you getting as turned on as I am?”

“I…” She licked her lower lip.

The act was a sledgehammer to his solar plexus. The things he could imagine that pink tongue doing…

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” she teased in husky invitation.

“I believe I will.” He needed to be careful with her—she was as clever as she was sassy. “Present your ass to me.”

“Sir?”

“Lower your breasts to the floor.”

“That’s…”

“Not what you were expecting? Do it.”

She moved slowly, as if hoping to minimize the sway of her breasts. Every motion should bring her a wave of pain. But all that would be nothing compared with the agony she’d feel when she complied with his order.

Once she was where he wanted her, he said, “Reach back and spread your buttocks.”

He waited while she readjusted herself several times, obviously to find a more comfortable position. Before she was situated, he toyed with her pussy. “You’re definitely wet,” he told her as he slid his hand back and forth. “I’d like your permission to put a finger inside you.”

“Yes.” She wrapped the word in a hiss. “Yes, Sir.”