Page 128 of At Her Pleasure

He pressed his forehead to the table. She saw perspiration on his shoulders. He nodded, though she knew he was lying, telling her what she wanted to hear.

Moving to her bag, she removed the strap-on harness and laid it next to him so he could see it. It was the one with the spikes embedded into the pelvic piece. She fitted a dildo into the opening, using her own mouth to lubricate it. She took it almost all the way down her throat, then back up again.

He was in a wild, broken state, but he was still in there, enough to appreciate the tease. She laid a hand over his. “Easy,” she murmured. “It’s all right.”

She hadn’t been careful enough, or maybe she’d wanted him to have the test. He latched onto her wrist, his grip as unyielding as his cuffs. “I can break your fucking arm from this position.” His voice had that hair-raising coldness to it.

She pressed against his hold, brought herself right to his mouth and breathed on his lips. “Do it, then. Show me what a tough guy you are. I won’t lift a hand against you, Mick. Am I not worth the same protectiveness as your little bird subs, because I’m a cold bitch of a Mistress?”

“Goddamn you.” His facial muscles twitched, but his grip had loosened, so she pulled free. She’d have bruises there, in the shape of his fingerprints. That was okay.

She didn’t mind bearing his marks.

Going under the table again, she released the rope between his legs long enough to slip the button of his jeans, work them and his underwear down to his thighs. His erection jutted out, hard and thick, and she teased it playfully with her mouth, tasting the fluid on the tip.

He groaned, jerked. Sent more creative oaths her way.

“You need to listen to your cock, Mick,” she advised, blowing a heated puff of air on the sensitive head. “It’s fine with anything I do to you. More than fine.”

Because she wanted to experience that girth and length in a more tactile way, she put her mouth over it and took it down to the hilt, gripping the base as she sucked and tasted.

Just as she’d told the vendor. Two hands worked best.

His hips jerked against his restraint, trying not to thrust. Either he was being stubborn, not wanting to respond because he was pissed, or he had a submissive’s innate understanding that he didn’t ever thrust into his Mistress’s mouth when she gave him the honor of putting her lips on him. He was probably telling himself it was the first, when it was more of the second.

She slid her mouth off of him and replaced the rope, this time without any denim protection. Indulging her normal inclinations, she put an extra jerk into the cinch, the prickly hemp pressing between his balls.

When she emerged, she donned the strap-on where he could see her. She noted anger, confusion and deeper things.

Moving behind him, she slid her hands over his ass, squeezing his buttocks, playing in the seam, then opening him up with her thumbs. She put one foot against the inside of his left ankle. “Spread for me,” she said, “And lift your ass.”

Slowly, his feet adjusted, and he complied. She bent and put her mouth on his buttock, teasing him there, too.

“Mistress.”

It was muffled, the tone slightly less I’m going to fucking kill you. “What is it, Mick?”

“Will you…I know it’s about what you want, and I don’t direct this. But can you…bite me?”

He turned his head in her direction, and the glimmer of humor in his gaze, the stark pain, almost made her lose her resolve to see this through.

“No. Not right now.” She pushed the slick head of the dildo between his buttocks, seating it at his opening. Moved in circles, spreading that oil, pushing in a little more each time, prepping the way for the train to head down well-greased tracks. “You don’t do this that often, do you?”

“No.”

She put her hand on his back, found the tension there. “Have you ever done this before me, Mick?”

He dipped his head to the right, away from her, and his fingers curled on the edges. “No.”

“To yourself?”

“No. Don’t…don’t stop.”

It wasn’t the act making him more tense. It was the question, and what his answer revealed. He hadn’t tried to hide it from her, and she gave him credit for that, because he could have, making it far more painful. What he wanted.

It added ammunition to her assault on his defenses. She withdrew and caressed his ass. Moved that touch up his spine, over every bump, the muscles on either side.

All hers. All of it hers. She thought that during a session sometimes, but when she did, it was always very “in the moment.” Tonight she was forging a permanent chain. No matter where he was, no matter how far, the links would hold.