Page 25 of Over the Line
He entered her slowly and maneuvered until he felt the difference in the texture of her internal flesh and touched her G-spot.
“Oh! My God.” She bucked and forced herself back, seeking more.
He indulged her for a few seconds, placing the pad of one thumb lightly against her anal whorl and feathering the lightest of touches over her clit.
“So close,” she whispered. “Please, please, please, Sir!”
“Not yet.” His cock getting harder and harder, he continued his torture. She was so much more responsive than he’d imagined, and seeing proof of her arousal turned him on.
She continued her sensual, nonstop pleas.
When he was certain she couldn’t take any more without orgasming, he pulled his hands away. “That’s a taste of what’s to come.”
She whimpered, her forehead pressed to the wood, her hands still on her buttocks.
With little sympathy and a lot of triumph, he stood and moved to the sink to rinse his hands while she regained her composure.
“Master Michael!”
At the sound of confusion and upset in her tone, he turned off the tap and looked over at her. “Sydney?”
When she didn’t respond, he devoured the distance in a few brisk strides. “I’m right here.” Sitting on the floor, he gathered her into his arms. Who would have suspected that the toughness she projected was mostly a mirage? “Talk to me, Sydney,” he urged softly. “Do you need me to remove the clamps?”
“No.” She pushed him. “There’s nothing wrong. I promise.”
“Did it bother you that I left you?” He brushed hair back from her face. “Do you hurt?”
“Everything is okay.” She sighed, sounding exasperated. “I think the whole orgasm denial is just driving me crazy. Everything tingles, and there’s a gnawing inside me. I haven’t felt this way before. Please, don’t overreact. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
He frowned. At best, that was a half-truth. But he suspected he’d get nothing more from her. Still, he liked having her in his arms, inhaling the citrusy scent of her shampoo and touching her bare skin.
“You worry too much, Sir. I’m okay. I always was. I promise.”
He debated what to do. Part of him wanted to talk, but maybe she was right. Maybe he’d heard something in her voice that really hadn’t been there.
“Can we continue, Sir?”
An urgent part of him wanted to put each of them out of their misery.
“I am so ready for an orgasm.”
“Little sub, you’re going to get more than one.”
She shot him a sly grin. “The night is not getting any younger, Sir. And neither am I.”
Her momentary weakness was gone—if it had ever really been there.
“In that case…” He loosened his grip. “When you’re ready, take off your shoes, then head up the stairs.”
She moved, but then winced and bit back a groan. When she tried again, her motions were much slower so as not to disturb the clamps.
Once her shoes were off, he pushed them out of the way and watched her climb up onto the first step.
The upward trek couldn’t have been easy. The steps had no carpet, and since the house was old, the pitch was steep. The view of her ass, though, gratified him. If he had his way, he’d keep her here, like this, naked and needy. “Second door on the left.”
When they reached his room, he instructed, “Kneel up.” He assumed she’d been around the lifestyle long enough to know what he meant, and clearly she did, kneeling with her legs slightly parted and her hands on her thighs.
He removed all the pillows from the top of the bed and piled them beneath a window. He left the blinds open, and a smattering of stars were visible against the inky sky.