Precious Pet

A Billionaire BDSM Romance

Candy Quinn

Contents

Copyright

Preamble

Precious Pet

Afterword

About the Author

Also by Candy Quinn

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© 2016 Pathforgers Publishing.

All Rights Reserved. If you downloaded an illegal copy of this book and enjoyed it, please buy a legal copy. Either way you get to keep the eBook forever, but you’ll be encouraging me to continue writing and producing high quality fiction for you. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imaginations. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Wicked Good Covers. All cover art makes use of stock photography and all persons depicted are models.

This book is intended for sale to Adult Audiences only. All sexually active characters in this work are over 18. All sexual activity is between non-blood related, consenting adults. This is a work of fiction, and as such, does not encourage illegal or immoral activities that happen within.

More information is available at Pathforgers Publishing.

Preamble

Book Themes:

BDSM, Pet Play, Dominant Male, Submissive Female, Sex Work, Lingerie, and Ice Play

Word Count:

20,266

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Precious Pet

What on earth was I doing here? Of all the places in the world that I should be – at home studying for my midterms, for instance – I was instead at a party where I clearly didn’t belong.

No, not just at a party.

Working a party.

In some lingerie.

When my best friend, Samantha, hired me for this gig, she bought me some new getup I’d never seen and was definitely nothing I’d buy for myself. A black lacy bra-let that pushed my breasts up to my collarbones, and a thong that barely left anything for the imagination.

I made her buy me a cute little skirt to go with it otherwise I refused to take this job.

The job she’d graciously got me after she realized that my dad was incredibly ill and needed medical treatment that none of us could afford. Certainly not with my student loans and my mom’s salary as a waitress. Times were hard – really hard – so that was why I was now half naked, serving hors d'oeuvres to people who make more in a day than I do in a month.

Hell, maybe a year.

But I plastered on a fake smile along with my dark eye shadow and red lipstick that made my mouth look too big for my face. Samantha curled my hair so that I saw the ombre brown tips tickling around my collarbones.

“Rachael!” Samantha snapped her fingers in front of my face and my blue eyes widened. How long had I been staring at the fireplace?

“Logan has been asking for shrimp for the past five minutes. Why aren’t you paying attention?” My friend’s green eyes darkened as she stared at me. “You’re going to make me look bad,” she said in a lower tone of voice.

Honestly, I’d just figured that a party that was being served by women in lingerie would be a bit more interesting than my microeconomics reading, but I was wrong. Just a bunch of rich guys sitting around and talking business as they drank their scotch in front of a roaring fire.

“Sorry,” I muttered on an exhale, my gaze effectively downcast. I hated that I disappointed her, but I had a lot on my mind, even beyond how embarrassed I was to be almost completely nude and surrounded by the most powerful people in the state. I’m certain this wasn’t how any businesswoman started off.

Still, I did as I was told, like some obedient puppet on a string. I teetered in the high heels Samantha had lent me – supposed to make my behind perkier, but it was hard to tell if it worked. I was thin, and didn’t figure anything was going to help me that much.

I’d been avoiding Logan, though. I mean, that was one of the reasons I hadn’t noticed him waving me over. The man was way too hot to exist, and I didn’t want to be seen near him like this. It was hard enough being around older and unattractive men, but to serve someone you could only dream of dating? That’s rough.

I made my way over to Logan and held out my silver tray filled with shrimp that smelled divine yet I wasn’t allowed sampling.

“Shrimp, sir?” I bowed my head respectfully and felt such shame at being so nude in his vicinity. If I’d run into him at campus, I’d have run in the other direction in fear. Too-good-for-me ran through my mind.

His brown hair was long but perfectly coiffed, and his skin looked so smooth. Still, the way his shirt was partially unbuttoned, the hint of chest hair poking out from the grey material, showed he was all man.

He couldn’t have been much older than thirty, and the host’s only son. He and his father were the ones I had to make an impression on, but I could barely talk around him.

He seemed unbothered by my nerves, though, as he plucked a shrimp from my tray and placed it in a napkin. He gave me a soft smile that made my body grow warm, casually looking over my face before returning to his conversation.

”There’s no way they’re going to be able to make it past the second quarter and still show profits,” Logan protested, gesticulating with his shrimp. His suit fit him so well and the slick, charcoal jacket lay slung over his broad shoulders. “Hell, if they make even half what they did last quarter I’d be shocked.”

“Well that’s what happens when you don’t listen to your investors,” the other man protested, looking up at her with some confusion. Did he think she shouldn’t be standing there? Had she lingered too long?

“But it’s not just that,” Logan protested. “They ignored the investors, and they ignored the market.”

I narrowed my eyes slightly, opening my mouth to say something before snapping it shut and briskly walking away. No one wants to hear your sophomoric ideas of marketing, I chided myself, but it was hard to keep my mouth shut.

This wasn’t me. This naked, lithe little thing in the slutty attire wasn’t me. I had dreams, hopes, aspirations, and they were quickly being put on hold to care of my father. My mother pleaded with me to finish out the semester so that the student loans wouldn’t be in vain, but it was hard to get through it all.

I felt so uncomfortable I could scream until I remembered that it was five hundred dollars for a night’s work. That was more than I’d even imagined for a job, and just to give up my Thursday evening.

Just think of the money, Rachael, I reminded myself, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves.

Samantha gave me another look that was part concern, part annoyance, and I plastered on a phony smile as I walked around the room, offering all of these rich men shrimp. It was degrading. Not even so much being dressed up like this, like some coquettish tramp.

No, I could handle that.

I just couldn’t handle how they were all ignoring me. As if having me dress up like a slut was just something meant to humiliate me rather than titillate them. I could have been wearing a clown suit and they’d pay me more mind. All except Logan and his wicked smile.

Wasn’t that weird? That they’d have some of the sexiest women in the city, paid half a grand for an evening of work, and not even look at them? I couldn’t even pretend to understand, but I guess that kind of money is like peanuts for them. We were just like the elaborate globe that sat in the corner of the den – a pretty thing meant to be appreciated for a moment, but more as an example of the owner’s fine taste and ostentatious spending.

By the time midnight came around my knees were aching, and I couldn’t even muster up the ability to be embarrassed any longer at this ridiculous farce of a party. They’d switched us from shrimp to simply standing, waiting if they needed a refill of their drinks. I moved back into the den with all its mahogany and furniture that I was sure dated back to the 17th century. It didn’t look very comfortable, but then, nothing about this was meant to be comfortable.

My eyes trailed again to Logan as I stood idly by the elaborate fireplace.

He was probably the most relaxed person in the room, though maybe that was just his youthfulness. His eyes held a certain spark that those others didn’t, and I finally had a moment to appreciate that. He wasn’t just talking business with these men. He was talking passionately about it.

I felt my lips quirk into a sort of semi-smile, but I quickly tried to hide it. Not that it mattered anyway – there wasn’t anyone paying attention to me and my silly little infatuation. But the longer I stared, unnoticed by all, the more I realized just how attracted to him I was. His strong hands gesticulated in the air, his actions subtle yet powerful in their own right.

It was fascinating to me. He commanded the room, despite his youth, despite the fact that his father – Richard – was just behind him talking to another business associate. But no one could capture me like Logan.

I noticed one or two of the other woman looking to him as well, and I wondered if they were hoping to earn some more cash after hours. Wasn’t that how these things worked? I’d never been to a strip club or anything like that, but I knew that there were plenty of rich men that paid for sex.

I looked around the room and my gaze landed on a stubby man in the corner, his face red from all his wine. He was talking animatedly with another person, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. The conversations were all muted, but he seemed upset. I wondered for a moment how a woman could have sex with him, something so intimate and special, just for some extra money.

But then, a week ago I never would have understood a woman deciding to serve a bunch of rich jerks their hors d'oeuvres in lingerie, either. My lips pursed to the side and I had to shake my head free of the thought. No, I wouldn’t be going down that route. I couldn’t let myself get to that.

Just this one time, a little bit of extra money to help dad with his pills. That’s all.

That’s all.

* * *

“He wants you to come back on Saturday,” Samantha told me as we counted out our cash back in the dorm room. I’d already counted it thrice, but it didn’t matter. I’d never held that much real money in my hands before. Everything was all done through the bank, now.

Still, at her words, I lost count.

“What?” I asked, and I couldn’t hide the surprise in my voice. I hadn’t thought about that happening at all, not with how spacey I was and how often Samantha had to prod my side to wake me up. I hadn’t been sleeping well, on top of everything, and she’d had to help me with the dark circles under my eyes.

“Yea, Logan specifically requested, and I quote, ‘the pale brunette with the shrimp’. Couldn’t be anyone else, Rae.”

I bit my lower lip and looked aside. “Wait, this Saturday?” How often did they have these soirees? And why had Logan invited me, of all people? Before I’d left I’d noticed one of the pretty, tall women chatting with him, her pelvis thrust towards him. I wasn’t stupid, I understood what that meant. She was totally into him, and he seemed really into her as well.

Sam nodded at me, reaching out and touching her tanned hand onto my knee. She squeezed it gently and I looked to her face once more. A soft smile was on her lips but it didn’t reach her eyes, as though she were hiding something.

“Sam?” I asked, probing her. We’d been dorm mates since September, but in the past six months, we’d become close. Especially once my dad took ill. She’d lost her father when she was fifteen, leaving just her mother, her two brothers, and her to fend for herself. That was why she’d started entertaining at these high end cocktail parties. She still wouldn’t tell me how she got started, though.

Samantha exhaled. “Listen, you don’t have to say yes or anything. But Saturday they have less people – less girls, less men. It’s just for their elite, alright? So you’d have to bring your A-game. None of this staring off in space, Rae. You gotta be fully there.”

“I don’t know…”

“They start at seven, Rae. It ends around three in the morning. That’s eight hours, but they’re paying two grand. Two. Grand. Rae, think about how much this could mean to your dad, for just one night.”

My mouth dropped. Two thousand dollars? That’d help me pay for my dad’s meds for at least two months. For eight hours of work? I was already nodding. “Just tell me what I have to do.”

* * *

“I don’t know, Sam,” I sighed from the dressing room. All around me were mirrors, reflecting back my pale skin and mousy brown hair and my eyes too big for my head. I hated going into change rooms, and I hated even more trying on lingerie. I looked so scrawny in everything, and the red push up bra Samantha had handed me to try on looked comical. “It makes me look like I have implants.”

“That’s the point, hun,” she said back with just as much of a sigh. “Come out and let me look?”

I don’t know why I hated that thought so much. We’d seen each other changing frequently, and we did just work together in our skivvies. But this was different. I felt like an imposter.

“C’mon, Rae. I’ll tell you the truth.”

My fingers ran along one of the red straps, fixing the bra so that it pushed up my meagre breasts to nearly my throat. I couldn’t try on the panties, but the lacy things were slung on one of the hooks. The saleswoman said they were a ‘Brazilian’ and supposed to make even the smallest butts look great.

With my jeans still slung about my hips, I pushed open the door to the change room just an inch, but Sam wriggled her way inside anyway.

“Sam!” I protested, but she was already pushing me away, keeping me at arm’s length.

“I think you look bangin’” she said proudly, as if she’d fixed something that had been way broken.

“Don’t use that word,” I whined, hating the tone of my voice. “I don’t know if I can wear red.”

“Are you kidding me? With how pale you are it makes you look electric. I still don’t know how you keep your skin so pristine. If only we were all so lucky,” she teased, but it was annoying coming from her. Sam was pretty much everything I wanted to be and wasn’t – she had a natural, year round tan and light brown hair that she always dyed blonde. Her breasts were huge, and her butt was to die for, and she had all this confidence that just radiated out of her.

“Well, fine. You look very sexy, though, Rae. I mean that.” She reached out, fixing the strap that I already thought I’d fixed and smiled. “With the panties, and that black choker I have, there’s no way anyone will ignore you tonight.”

Why had I told her I felt ignored? She insisted we go out and that she’d treat me to another outfit. There was no way I was blowing some of my money on something as frivolous as a second pair of lingerie for work that I wasn’t going back to. Not after Saturday.

I’d take the twenty-five hundred, finish taking my midterms, then figure out what I was going to do with my life during spring break. I was almost halfway through my degree, and I didn’t know if I was even going to be able to finish. I hadn’t told Sam that, though.

“Are the heels fine to go with this?” I asked, worry creeping into my voice. I hated owing someone like this. Sam had been nothing but great to give me this opportunity, but I hated having to do this for money. It just felt wrong.

“Oh, no, there’s no shoes at this one,” Sam said with a shrug, and I raised my eyebrow.

“What do you mean? We’re expected to go around in bare feet?”

“Something like that.”

She was being intentionally dodgy, and I furrowed my dark brows.

“What is it, Sam?”

“It’s nothing, Rae. Nothing to worry about. Just that for Saturday’s party, they give us all, like, anklet things. Like a collar but just for your ankles. And some for your wrists. It’s just part of the party, Rachael. Don’t make a big deal of it.”

Her trying to tell me not to make a big deal about it, though, made it a big deal. A huge deal.

“Like collars?”

“Well, yea. They’re leather and totally comfortable. It won’t hurt at all, it’s just a bit weird to get used to at first. They have little bells on them so that we make a bit of sound when we’re moving, that’s all.”

“That’s all? Are you sure, Sam? There’s nothing else I need to know before I go through with this?” I had to go through with it. It was already two in the afternoon, and Sam had already told Logan that I’d agreed. But with the way she looked at me, my stomach turned. There was definitely something else.

“You might see some things, Rae. That’s it. Things that you might not like, but you just gotta be okay with it. Pretend it’s normal.”

“What types of things, Samantha?” I rarely called her by her full name and she knew it. It was something only her mom’s second husband called her and she hated it.

Sam cringed.

“There are rooms that are reserved for… couples, Rae. Nothing you have to be involved in at all, just serve their drinks and carry on, that’s it. I’ll be with you the whole night, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you to you don’t want. You are only being paid to serve drinks and dress up, that’s it.”

My heart raced, and I swear I’d swallowed a lump.

There was going to be sex? At a party?

What type of people were these?

Samantha must have seen my face fall, for her hand reached out to gingerly touch along my jaw and look at me very seriously.

“If you feel uncomfortable we can go home, I promise. But think of the money, Rae. Think of all you could do with it. And it’s way better in your hands that those rich twats, right?”

Right, Sam. You are very, very right.

* * *

It was only eight in the evening, the sun had only set for an hour, yet already the party was in full swing. It didn’t have any of the same muffled, muted conversations of last time. Even though there were less people, it was much louder. There was even a quartet playing music in the corner of the large basement.

There were no windows. That was the first thing I’d noticed when Samantha led me down the stairs on my bare feet. The little bells on the leather cuffs jingled lightly, and I twisted my foot a few times just to hear that soft sound. It was almost angelic, but I’d be stupid not to have noticed the D-cuffs on the back of both the ankle and wrist bracelets. Just like on the collar wrapped around my throat, the one Sam had insisted I borrow.

She’d done my makeup again to the point that I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror, my hair once more curled into long ringlets and smoothed so that it wasn’t so stringy looking. She kept telling me that the less I looked like myself, the better I’d feel about this.

Just pretend it’s a play, she insisted.

But as I looked around at the other hostess’ and their flirty smiles, the way they bent over to pour drinks, I could never do that. I’d look too blocky, too awkward.

Hell, I felt awkward just standing there and trying to give polite smiles as I refilled the men’s wine glasses.

I didn’t know if all of the women were solely there to hostess. As the night wore on, it became more and more apparent to me that they were being paid for a different type of work, as they flirted with the most unattractive men.

I’d never be able to do that.

I couldn’t even flirt with cute men.

Desperately I tried to avoid the play areas, the closed door rooms and the strange devices in the corner. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what this was - some freaky sex party - but I was doing my best to ignore the way those men chased giggling women with paddles, and the fact that there were some unused stocks in the corner.

I walked around the large room, past the string quartet. They were playing something I couldn’t quite put my fingers on, like a more classical version of some fairly recent pop song. I stepped away and felt the strange little bells along my limbs as they swung back and forth to the rhythm of my light step.

How long had I been there? I’d lost track of time, but I was starting to feel exhausted, and our hosts hadn’t even arrived. I’d hoped that at the very least I could make a good impression at the start, to make Sam look better to them. She did this all the time, after all. Even if I was never coming back again, I didn’t want to hurt her career or whatever.

Luckily I’d been spared any sight of skin that I didn’t want to see, though. They kept stealing off to one of the many posh rooms down the hall, and there were always at least two women checking for drinks in there.

I smiled across the room at Sam. She hadn’t abandoned me yet, and I appreciated that. She smiled back at me but then her spine straightened and she quickly closed the distance between us. The hard wood floors were strange to walk on barefoot, and my skin had prickled with goose bumps as she touched my bicep lightly.

She smiled her hurry off as if it were no big thing, but she primped my hair and touched my lips, fixing my lipstick I guessed. It had a habit of running past my mouth and making me look like a clown.

“They’re coming,” she hissed before going back to her post and standing up straight as a rail. It made her breasts stick out even more and I caught myself staring at them for a moment with envy before her words sunk in.

I stood up just as straight as her, though even with my push up bra I didn’t look nearly so statuesque. Instead of the makeup making me feel like someone different, it just made me feel like a fraud, and it was hard to keep my chin held high and my shoulders straight.

Richard Albert came down the stairs, and he looked nearly youthful. He still donned a suit, but it was more informal, a bit less stuffy. He’d traded the stark black for some navy pinstripes that still seemed a bit old fashioned, if you asked me, but what did I know about the style of the rich and the famous?

He wasn’t who I was interested in anyway.

Logan strode in afterwards, all liquid cool with a commanding presence. Somehow I felt both more uncomfortable, and more relaxed, now that he was here. His jaw was strong and his full lips were spread into a smile as he gestured at one of his friends. But that wasn’t all. Behind him was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.

His golden hair was kept long and reminded me of the guy who played Thor, I couldn’t remember his name. Hell, his entire body reminded me of some demi-god. He didn’t bother with a suit, just a clean pressed shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and looked incredibly soft.

The three of them paused at the end of the stairs and Sam rushed to action, ensuring none of them were without a glass in their hands for very long.

But I barely saw anything except for the fact that the gorgeous god was looking at me.

My hand went to my face, certain something was there. My cheeks were already burning hot. His blue eyes were staring through me, into my soul. He could read every last filthy thought I was having about him, I was certain, and I had to look away to preserve some shred of decency. I cursed the cool bite of the air and how nude I was and how my bodily response was so obvious to any who cared to observe.

My nipples had already stiffened painfully against the soft material of the inside of my bra, and I squirmed in the lacy panties. It only served to make those little bells jingle-jangle around me, though, making my nervousness even more apparent.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Logan stopping and standing next to Sam, leaning in to whisper to her. Oh god, his hand was touching against the flat of her stomach, so intimately, and it made my insides turn to magma.

I had to get out of there. Suddenly all the sounds of the world returned to me, flooding my ears with whispers of music and teasing voices and girlish giggles. Sounds of a world I desperately didn’t belong to, and I looked around for somewhere I could go to collect myself.

My clothes were left in Sam’s car so that we didn’t have to drive back in our skivvies, but all I wanted to do was crawl into my big, comfortable sweater and yoga pants, to wrap myself up and hide from the world.

To hide from these powerful men that had the world at their fingertips.

I looked back to Logan and Sam, but my entire body felt on fire as I caught them both looking at me. Oh no. Sam raised her finger, beckoning me toward them, but I felt like a statue. I couldn’t move my limbs. I was filled with marble, stuck in place for the rest of all eternity.

I could see her sigh as she walked towards me, motioning for Logan not to follow. The way she touched my shoulder and brushed some hair from my face told me I wasn’t going to like what she had to say. She was being too matronly, and Sam didn’t even want kids.

“Rae, you see that guy that just came in?”

I prayed that she wouldn’t point to the god, but she did, and he noticed. He was chatting with Logan now, both of them about equal in height.

My throat went dry and my lips felt parched but I nodded.

“Well, he’s Logan’s cousin. Daniel Elliot. He’s visiting from New York and Logan wants to show him a good time.”

I didn’t know what any of this had to do with me.

I didn’t want to know.

Samantha continued, “Anyway, I guess he has a thing for brunettes.”

I opened my mouth to protest but Samantha stopped me.

“You don’t have to do anything, but listen, they’re offering another grand for you to just go have some drinks with him, entertain him. Logan really thinks you’re… to Daniel’s taste.”

To Daniel’s taste? What did that even mean? And how on earth was Sam talking about me? I’d seen at least three other women who were drop-dead gorgeous.

My eyes were wide and I frowned up at Sam.

“What am I even going to talk about with this guy? We don’t have anything in common.”

Sam just shrugged her shoulders in that way she always did when I was being a pest.

“You’ll think of something. C’mon, go do it. You might have fun, even! He’s, like, really cute if you hadn’t noticed.”

Oh, I’d noticed.

I’ll be honest, if it’d been anyone else, I wouldn’t even consider the idea of having to have drinks. Well, maybe Logan… But still, that’s all this was. Me, half naked, having drinks with a guy who looked like a Greek God. No big deal, right?

Oh, such a big deal.

I just stood there as Sam cordially brought him over, all languishing limbs and flirtatious giggles and I felt even more inferior.

“Daniel…”

Oh god, Sam, don’t purr like that.

“This is my closest friend. You’re really going to like her.”

Why was she pouting and biting her lip like that?

I just awkwardly raised my arm and gave a half-hearted wave. Why couldn’t I be more suave like Sam?

“Hey,” I finally managed, but my voice sounded lower than normal and a little bit breathless. He was even bigger up close. Broad and tall, he positively dwarfed me, especially in my bare feet.

“I’m sure I will.” He smiled, his mouth filled with pearly white teeth and I stood, transfixed. He was gorgeous. There was no way he wanted to actually spend time with me. How many college students would be clamouring over themselves to get to him? He probably had a dozen girlfriends back home.

Samantha snapped her fingers at one of the other women and whispered something in her ear, and right away she was whisking us away to one of those private rooms that I’d been doing my very best to avoid. I was grateful I wasn’t in heels so I felt more certain on my feet, but did it even matter? My knees were like jelly, and those little tinkling bells were almost deafening to my ears.

He didn’t touch me, didn’t even brush against me in his cotton button-down shirt. It looked so damned soft, such a contrast to the hulking and gruff looking man beneath it. I stole a glance of him from the corner of my eye, and oh god I had to look away. He was even hotter up close. Well, not that I was that close. He still had at least a foot of height on me, and I tried not to brush against him. That part was hard, because he was buff and broad and gorgeous.

Did I mention that part already?

I don’t rightly know how I made it down that hall without tripping up, without stumbling all over my feet as I tried to covertly sneak glances at him.

One of the doors was open, and I heard a loud ‘crack’ fill the air. I couldn’t help but look, my wide eyes darting upon the quick sound and then the sudden moan that followed.

I nearly stopped and ran the hell out of there until I felt his hand reach out, brushing against my bare waist and resting on my hips.

My stomach fluttered and my breath hitched at his gentle touch. He looked like a guy that would be strong, maybe brutish, but that wasn’t what his light fingertips told me. I was so dizzied from the sensation that I didn’t realize we’d reached the last room at the hall. It felt like the walk had been an eternity, and I’d promised I wouldn’t let my face register my surprise when I saw whatever was happening before that closed door.

But I’m some poor nobody from a small town, and I swear that room was bigger than my entire first house. It had a huge bed in the middle of it, but chairs and sofas everywhere. You could host an entire house party just in this one room and no one would complain. A fireplace warmed it to a more comfortable temperature, and a gleaming, black hot tub sat in the corner, surrounded by red gossamer curtains.

The room was all red and gold and silver and black, so sleek and rich looking, and Daniel had to encourage me into it with his guiding hand. He’d not talked the entire time the other woman was with us, but she looked up at him expectantly.

“Do you have a preference for drink, Sir?” she asked politely, but she couldn’t hide that little rivulet of envy that ran beneath.

He shook his head and gave her a smile that was both cordial and seductive. He told her some scotch whiskey that I didn’t recognize, but the year was 1978 so I figured it had to be expensive. I knew that much.

She nodded and gently closed the door behind her, with a promise to be back. The short conversation had given me enough time to come to my senses, and yet still I stood so near to him, unsure of what I should do. Uncertain of what he wanted me to do.

He didn’t leave me wondering for long, though. He looked down on me and removed his hand with a tickle of his fingers over my spine.

“You can take a seat on the couch,” he said, and I paused before walking to the one in front of the couch. It was pretty uncomfortable to sit on a couch this fancy without pants on, though.

I didn’t know what had happened on it.

I folded up one of my legs beneath me, sitting on it and feeling the bells dig into my flesh as I looked up at him. But he didn’t move from the door, not yet. He was taking off his shoes, making himself comfortable, and his hair spilled over his face all shiny and golden. The room only had mood lighting, I guessed, and the fire added a strange glow to everything.

Maybe it was just how tired I was, how long this night had been, but it felt like this was all a dream. It was almost like I was drunk, the world seeming to move in this strange, disconnected and hazy manner. I didn’t mind it, but I was terrified of screwing this all up. I had to entertain him, and I licked over my lips, forgetting about my lipstick until I tasted that fake texture.

“So Sam tells me you’re from New York?” I asked, hoping that was a good starting place. He stood up straight and went to respond when there was a knock on the door. Damn she was efficient. My heart was throbbing in my chest and I prayed to God I could just sink into the couch and disappear. I was so out of my element. He was way too much for me, way too gorgeous. I was going to make a fool of myself.

But at the same time, I was so… hopeful. Things had been so rough for me lately and I’d not had any interest in dating, and a woman has some needs. Not even to have sex, or to orgasm even. Those needs were just base, and I could handle them on my own.

There were just some things that I couldn’t do by myself. Flirt. Touch. Kiss.

I was a fool to think he’d want to do any of those things with me, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that he invited me in here to just chat with me and drink. I watched as he opened the door, his muscles shifting beneath his cotton shirt and making me swoon.

He and Logan were actually pretty similar. I would have guessed they were brothers over cousins. Daniel’s hair was just blonder, his face and body a bit broader, but they were both about equal in height and they both had the same killer eyes, those blue I-see-through-you eyes.

Daniel accepted the bottle and two glasses with an amount of grace I wouldn’t expect him to have, then he shut the door with his hip. Moving over to the table, he set it all down and went to the mini-fridge in the corner to grab some ice. There was a bar tucked away in the corner I hadn’t noticed, and what I guessed to be a bathroom just behind it.

“I was born here,” Daniel replied to my original question, and it took me a second to remember I’d asked if he was from New York. “My father moved us both to New York once my mother left him.”

I couldn’t help that I frowned and said, “I’m sorry.” It was instinct, just something you say when someone expresses a loss no matter how ancient.

But instead of annoyance, he smiled and walked back over to me, padding lightly in his socked feet.

“It was a long time ago,” he said in that deep, rich voice. It made me quake, how his smile caressed and wrapped his words, but that baritone was so deep and touched me lower.

I squirmed under his gaze. It really did feel like he could so easily peek into my mind, read all my fears and reluctance and hopes and dreams, and I’ll be honest, right then all of those things revolved around him. Everything else had slipped away and I was very much in the present. In that room. With a guy I would have had on posters all over my room when I was twelve.

He put two ice cubes in each glass, following it with the rich, amber liquid.

It was beautiful watching his strong hands make such delicate little motions, not spilling a drop before recapping the liquor. He handed me a drink but didn’t sit down as he held out his glass in a toast.

“To tonight,” he said with a dark grin.

I didn’t know how he could be vaguer, and my glass clinked against his. My smile was half-forced, and I licked around my mouth once more.

“To tonight,” I agreed.

To tonight and whatever I’d just gotten myself into for some extra money.

I knew that his scotch must have cost a lot, but that didn’t stop me from nodding every time he offered me more. I’d relaxed back on the couch and his arm was around me casually, as if it weren’t a big deal. I could smell the soft scent of his soap lingering between us and the alcohol was making it a bit easier to talk. To feel more like myself.

Not that I had to talk a lot. He had told me stories about his childhood, about his school, about how hard it was for him to get over his dad leaving his mother. And he wasn’t a bad guy. I mean, I kind of figured he had to be. You don’t get the looks, the money, and the personality but somehow he nailed it.

It wasn’t fair to the rest of us poor schlubs without looks, money or personality.

But every time he smiled, his eyes twinkled with this strange light, and when I asked for more scotch he turned to me. His hand cupped my cheek, my delicate face so easily palmed in it, and his thumb rubbed near my eye.

“I think you’ve had enough, Rachael,” he said with a smile, and I melted.

That smile was more intoxicating than anything I’d ever seen, and I didn’t even mind the fact that it still felt he was staring into my soul, knowing me better than I ever could. The scotch had helped ease me into that, though I still felt I had my wits about me.

I went to argue, but I didn’t want that smile of his to disappear.

And I’ll be honest, I didn’t want him to retreat his hand from my face. I nuzzled into it, but I shocked even myself by kissing the fleshy pad beneath his thumb. It was a sweet, lingering thing, but I recoiled as if it were sudden and being enacted upon me.

What was I doing?

It wasn’t my fault, I argued internally. It was the atmosphere of this room, of the way he was looking at me, at the way my body felt so warm and in needing of some affection. This was the first time in as long as I could remember when I wasn’t entirely stressed out, and I didn’t want it to end.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered breathlessly, shifting back on the couch, away from his warmth.

I saw his chest rise and fall, breath higher in his chest as he looked upon me, his eyes tracing down my pale body, over that red pushup bra and down over the lacy panties that I’m sure were more than a little damp.

“Logan told me you’ve never been to a party before,” Daniel said softly, his words masculine and reassuring.

“Well, Thursday I was here,” I protested, not wanting to look so naïve, even as I instantly deflated at his next words.

“I mean a real party.”

I shook my head, looking pathetic.

“It’s okay,” he responded, but his arm stretched out, the back of his fingers brushing against my stomach.

I looked up at him and my mouth dropped open. I wanted so badly for him to touch me, but I was terrified of what it meant. For me. For him.

I was afraid if we went further, I’d just disappoint him.

That seemed to be the last thing on his mind, though. His handsome face with the broad jaw and sparkling eyes spoke to mischief. Interest.

My breath caught in my chest and I stared at him. He seemed so… hungry. I didn’t understand it. I’d never had a guy look at me like this, and I knew he wasn’t drunk. The glasses he poured up didn’t have a lot of liquor, and he was way bigger than me anyways.

I was only to the point of getting those warm, fuzzy alcohol-induced smiles. He had to barely even be feeling it. His strong hand reached out, touching my cheek with such surprising tenderness.

“Tell me, Rachael. What types of things do you like to do?” He paused a heartbeat before adding on, “With your boyfriends, I mean?”

I was sure he could feel my blood turning molten under his palm as I blushed.

My eyes skipped away from his but my breath was so high in my chest I could barely catch it.

“What sorts of things?” How do I even answer that? That was… private.

He licked over his lips, and my gaze was drawn back to his face, focusing on that warm muscle sliding between that perfect bow. He inhaled.

“C’mon, Rachael. I know you’re not stupid. You know what this is about.”

I swallowed and my lower lip trembled. But then, I felt his thumb press against it so gently, stilling it. Making me aware of his presence. Of his tender touch. Of every little swirl of his fingerprint pressed to my over sensitive lip.

“I like…” Oh god, this was even harder than I’d ever thought it could be. I was usually so much smoother than this, I had to be. I could barely get the words out, but his devious smile, the way he looked so excited at my words pushed me forward.

“To kiss.”

His smile turned to a smirk, and his thumb ran down my chin before his hand left me completely. He stood up from the couch and I startled, standing to my feet and hearing those little bells jangle. How long had we been in there? This room, like all the others, had no windows or clocks and I felt like I was in a haze.

He took a step away, turning his back on me and I followed. Did I really mess it up that bad? My chest felt tight as I reached out and grabbed his arm, surprised still at how large and hard it was. Like metal.

“I didn’t figure Sam would have hired a virgin,” he retorted, but when he looked over his shoulder at me it was filled with daring and mischievousness. He was egging me on, trying to push me to admit all those things I swore those perfect eyes could already know.

I trembled as I stared up at him, my fingers still on his hard bicep.

“I’m not a virgin,” I protested, and his smile broadened.

“And you liked it?” he goaded.

“Of course!” I spat back, though really it wasn’t that great. I would have rathered a night with my vibrator than with him. We had dated for a couple of months before deciding to go through with it, but quickly after that things fell apart between us. I guess we just had different expectations for what an ‘adult’ relationship would be.

He easily removed my hands from his bicep as he turned about, looming over me. For a second I didn’t know what he was going to do, if he was going to call me on my lie, but suddenly his mouth was on mine and stars exploded all around me.

I didn’t know what to do with my hands, but he grabbed them, tugging them towards his hips, pressing them there as if to keep them in place. I felt so tiny and delicate against his ferocity, but that wasn’t all bad, either.

It was actually really nice.

I won’t lie, he was kissing me more than I was kissing him, his tongue working its way into my mouth as I stood there, just trying not to die. I’d never kissed anyone half so hot as him, and you’d think that’d be enough to make me want to work harder, but it felt like my world was imploding in on itself and I didn’t know how to react.

He didn’t pull away, though. He didn’t release me from his hold, and he kissed me with such passion that after a few moments, it was hard not to get wrapped up in it. My mouth yielded more easily, my tongue delicately probing against his, tasting the alcohol on his breath.

My arms were trembling, my entire body shaking like a leaf despite the warmth in the room, and my pulse raced. My hands started moving up, towards his chest, but he pushed them back down before bringing his broad palms to my back.

I shifted into him, leaning up on tip toes as I felt his fingers move down my spine, the tip of his middle finger poking in beneath the lace of my panties, right above the centre of my ass. I gasped, but I couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through me. I was certain that those panties were diffusing the scent of my arousal into the room, making it headier, and a momentary bit of shame went through me.

I’d practically just met this guy, but I couldn’t help the way my body called out for him. It wasn’t the money, it wasn’t anything other than the fact that he was genuinely gorgeous and so out of my league by normal standards. It was a rush to think that maybe he actually did want me, and as his hand shifted to the side to cup my bare ass I gasped into his mouth.

His fingers teased the cleft of my ass cheek, part threat, part promise, and I had to pull back, breathless and with wide, doe like eyes.

“Daniel,” I whispered, but he silenced me with another kiss, harder and more passionate. His hand squeezed my butt, massaging it and setting all my nerves on fire.

There was no way I could sleep with him, was there?

I hadn’t even thought about it. It was too farfetched until this very moment, and my stomach fluttered with nerves. He pulled back and stared down at me with that piercing gaze and for a moment I thought I’d done something wrong, but his gaze shifted to the bed and I knew what he was going to ask before he even asked it.

I shook my head.

“I can’t,” I protested, my jaw quivering.

A flash of anger crossed his features, followed up by a devilish smirk, his arms folded beneath his chest.

“Why not?” he probed.

I hadn’t thought this far ahead. That damned alcohol, that damned lust, was making my head so fuzzy.

“I don’t do that on the first date.”

He laughed and I wasn’t entirely sure why. I stared up at him with my own anger, but his gaze softened as one of his hands went to my collarbone.

“Logan told me that until Thursday you also didn’t do this. That you’re just trying to make some extra cash for your dad, is that it?”

How did Logan even know that?

A flash of heat went through my body as his fingertips played with my sensitive skin. I couldn’t deny it, could I? Call Logan a liar?

I swallowed.

“So?”

“So,” he said, his fingers teasing lower, over the cusps of my ridiculously pushed up breasts, letting the skin prickle under his touch, every nerve coming alive.

“So how about I make you a deal?” His face was so youthful and devious. He couldn’t be that much older than me. Maybe twenty-five? I hadn’t asked.

I couldn’t even speak, I just nodded my head stupidly, the collar making it slightly uncomfortable to do so.

“I won’t have sex with you. Nothing,” he said as his fingertips trailed down the centre of my torso, to the top of my panties and grazing across my mons, “will go where these hide. No penetration, no anything. But you have to be wholly nude and do whatever else I say. And in exchange, well. I could make your father’s life much more comfortable.”

My mouth dropped open. I’d barely heard what he said as he touched along the bottom part of my stomach, but he had me just where he wanted me. There was no way I could refuse. Not an offer like that, an offer too good to be true.

“How?” I still insisted. I wasn’t dumb. I didn’t want some guy promising me just what I needed without any specifics.

He looked hesitant at my question, but he gave me a gentle nod.

“My aunt is going under treatment for something similar. I’ll see to it that your dad gets an appointment with her doctor. He’s the best, Rachael. What are you getting for working here tonight?”

I paused. Talking money wasn’t polite. I’d always been told that, growing up. It’s none of my business and it’s none of theirs, but still I spilled it out.

“Two grand for working the party, another thousand for…” I trailed off. How could I say ‘entertaining you’?

“For this,” he grinned, and I nodded. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Everything costs money, Rachael, especially the time of gorgeous young women.”

Was he still talking about me?

I brushed some of my hair out of my face, a nervous reaction, but his finger went to my chin, making me look at him. “I’ll make it five even, Rachael. Just for this one time. And your dad still gets the appointment – free of charge. If you never want to see me again, well, you don’t have to. I’ll be up here for a month, though, and if you do just as I say…”

I’m pretty sure my heart stopped. Five thousand dollars for spending the rest of the night with a demi-god? It was unreal, and instantly my shoulders felt like so much weight had been stripped from them. I could definitely do whatever he wanted for that.

I didn’t even have to answer. He read my consent all over my body, my face, and his hands were upon me again, reaching around and touching my spine before reaching for the hook of my bra. He didn’t unclasp it, though, holding me in a hug as he stared down on me.

“If it ever gets to be too much, anything, for any reason, just say ‘red’. If it’s getting too much, say ‘yellow’. Like stoplights. Otherwise I’m going to assume everything is fine and green.”

I nodded. Safe words, yea, I’d heard about those things.

He smiled, his nose nuzzling against my forehead.

“But I really hope you can make it through the night.” His fingers unclasped my bra with no further preamble or invitation and a tiny gasp was the only sound I made. My nipples had been straining against the material and they poked up high into the air atop my pert, tiny breasts. He let the bra fall to the floor before backing up, staring at my chest.

I felt like such a child and I went to cover myself but he knocked my hand away as he tut-tutted me. I’d never had a guy look at me like that before. I’d always had my ex turn off the light and I’d take off my clothes beneath the sheet. I’d never felt so naked, so on display as I did at that moment.

And that moment dragged out for what felt like an eternity, me standing there as he watched my nipples stiffen under his gaze, the areolas puckering and the skin beyond prickling with excited goosebumps. I’d never done anything like this, but my body sure seemed to want it. Crave it. I had to shift just to feel the sensation of my panties brushing across my damp sex.

His hand reached out, so much bigger than my breast, fitting the nipple between two of his fingers. He didn’t squeeze, though, just rest against me, feeling my heated, soft skin beneath his firm hand.

And then, when he did slowly bring those two fingers together, tugging on the nipple, I had already wished for it a dozen times, just to know what it would feel like. I couldn’t contain the gasp, or hide the soft sound of a moan that ran below it.

He smiled, pinching me harder.

“You’re awfully sensitive,” he cooed, like it was a compliment. His hand retreated and my eyes went wide. I wanted more.

Much more.

Instead, he pointed to my panties.

“Take those off and put them in your mouth.”

I hesitated, and his fingers went to my chin, forcing my face up. He was so near to me that I felt his breath wash over my face as he spoke. “When I tell you to do something, sweet girl, you do it and you thank me for the pleasure. Do you understand?”

I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.

“Yes,” I whimpered, my hands going down and hooking into my panties. I hesitated again and he smile darkened.

“We’re not going to have a problem, are we?” he asked, and I shook my head, resisting his hand. He smiled, and I tugged down my panties, released the scent of my sex into the air. A flush went through me, pinkening my pale flesh as the material got caught on the anklet.

He went down on a knee to help me remove it, but then he was there, just inches away from my sex. Sam had taken me with her to get a bikini wax – one of the most painful experiences of my life – but she’d said there was no way I could have hair poking out of the lingerie. It made sense at the time but now the only thing that hid me was a little strip of hair just above my slit, drawing attention to the bareness of my vulva.

I was sure he could smell me. I could smell me.

His nostrils flared as he looked at it with such an intensity I couldn’t fathom, and my heart raced. I was so exposed to this man I barely knew, this man who was so out of my league, and he looked up over my small body and gave me a wolfish grin.

Standing, he offered me the damp panties with a command.

“Put these in your mouth,” he ordered, and already I knew better than to disobey. I looked up at him with wide eyes as I accepted them, tentatively bringing them to my mouth.

“What do you say?” he prodded.

I paused.

“Thank you?” I replied in kind, completely uncertain if that was what he wanted to hear, but his hand grabbed my wrist and prevented me from carrying out his command.

“Sweet girl, for tonight, I’m your owner. I own you, body and soul, for these precious hours. So you thank your master for letting you taste that sweetness that you’ve denied me.”

His words were all honey and silk, and compelled me to want to say it. To find that appreciation for what he was doing that he clearly thought I should feel. My hand trembled in his solid gasp but still I uttered those words.

“Thank you, Master.”

He smiled and released my wrist, but I still hesitated.

“How can I say red if I have this in my mouth?”

He didn’t look fazed by the question.

“Sweet girl, your panties aren’t that big. It’s not to gag you. Just to make you taste what I’ve done to you.”

I nearly fainted. How could he look so calm and in control when he was saying such filthy things to me, but instead he just patiently smiled.

“Now, you better do it because I don’t like being refused.”

I felt like a leaf blowing in a hurricane as I pushed that lacy material between my lips and tasted my own honey against my tongue. He smiled wider but I felt ridiculous, like a squirrel or something. It was hard keeping my thoughts straight as I looked up at him. He was dressed so casually and I was almost completely naked except for the leather around my limbs.

His buttoned down shirt was so soft, and I wanted to touch it again, to feel that warmth and affection he’d shown me earlier. I was too enamoured to even really appreciate the sensation of his hard body pressing against mine, but now I craved it.

“Now get down on all fours, sweet girl.”

At the same time I wished he wouldn’t call me that, it kept making my stomach flip with excitement. I hadn’t done a lot to explore my sexuality or anything like that, and knew enough about how to get myself off that I didn’t feel the pressure to learn more.

Besides, how or where would I have learned one of my kinks was a demi-god calling me a sweet girl?

I didn’t want to displease him again. He was doing such wicked things to my mind, twisting me to his perversions, and I delicately lowered myself to the wooden floor. It was almost pristine, and clearly had been cleaned before we got here, so I didn’t mind as much, but it still felt dirty.

Maybe it was just the act itself.

He bent down, shifting the table out of the way and then going to the bar. I looked behind me, but I could only catch glimpses of him out of the corner of my eye. I rotated the panties in my mouth, and they were already soaked with spit.

There was a rustling of something that sounded like metal, but I couldn’t see what he was doing. His back was turned to me, and so I let my head drop down, feeling that leather sink into my throat as my hair fell to either sides of my cheeks.

When he returned, he stood behind me, and I could feel his gaze burning into me.

“Spread your legs, precious,” he purred, and I hated that I’d agreed to do this. It was humiliating!

So then why did my stomach turn with excitement?

I felt his foot press against the inside of mine, nudging it open and I obliged, feeling myself open for his inspection. My flesh burned red and I wondered if I shouldn’t just run out of there now, forget this ever happened. Forsake the money, the everything. Embarrass Rachael. Let down my dad.

No, I had to keep pushing through. I had to do what he said, and so my knees spread wider and I felt his breath next to my ass. He inhaled deeply and I thought I was going to faint before he stood back up and walked around me.

“Head up,” he instructed, and I did so, raising my eyes over his body and catching sight of a leash in his hands. Oh no.

My heart kept racing and I had to bite down on my lip. I couldn’t do this. I had to do this. I wanted to do this. Those thoughts kept repeating full circle in my mind, always in the same order, as if the fact that I wanted this was the last thing I should or would consider.

Not that that was any different from how I lived the rest of my life. I’d always passed up doing the things I wanted to do in favour of what I should do, or what everyone else wanted me to. I’d never been able to even do an internet search for something like this, it was too embarrassing.

But as my eyes raised to his and I saw that soft hint of a smirk, felt his finger lace into the D-ring of my collar and clasp the metal hook, desire ran through me.

It was then when I realized he’d given me a free pass to enjoy myself. A man from out of town, who would never talk to any of my family, anyone I knew other than Sam…

There was no potential for cruel rumours, and even if I fouled this all up, it was something I had to do. Everyone would understand, wouldn’t they? I did it for my dad.

So when he stood upright again and began to walk, my legs and hands moved in tandem, tiny little bursts of motion as I followed after him like a puppy. A little, lost puppy.

It gave me a chance to see him from behind, over the casual way the green shirt hung around his hips, his jeans cupping his ass so perfectly. It was hard to find a man that knew how to look good in jeans, but Daniel… he was a demi-god. Of course he’d known to turn around and see how his butt looked.

He stopped at the bed, and I raised my gaze to the back of his head, but he didn’t turn around. Instead he clipped the other end of the leash to the bed and opened the nightstand. I couldn’t see what it was he pulled out, but the silver caught the light and I sat back on my haunches. The hard floor was hurting my knees.

He glanced over his shoulder and there was a spark of irritation in his eyes.

“Did I say you could sit?” he asked, and there was none of me being his precious, his sweet girl. It was just hard admonishment, and instantly I moved back onto my hands and knees.

His smile was darker, but I was grateful for its presence at all.

Daniel finally turned, putting down a small dish, like for dogs. I furrowed my eyebrows as I looked up at him in questioning.

“You need to prove you’ll do anything I say,” he said, once more leaving off those pet names I craved as he walked back to the bar. I turned but all I could see was the rich fabric of the comforter, looking too warm and inviting.

I listened to the clink of some bottles, some things I couldn’t put my finger on, and I wondered what he’d do to me, now that I was under his control. At his mercy.

The thought of it was coming easier and easier. Slowly, my self-consciousness, my uncertainty of why he’d chosen me started dripping away. In the end, it didn’t matter why. I was doing something I’d always wanted with a guy I’d have been too terrified to talk to.

I just had to relax and enjoy the night.

There were no other options.

I heard the soft pit-pat of his feet as he walked back to me. He crouched before me, his legs spread as he sat on his haunches, a bottle of some white liquid in his hands. It was probably milk, I surmised, but it still didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me.

I stared at him with wide eyes as he poured it into the little dish. Setting aside the empty bottle, he brushed some of my hair from my face.

“Now. You’re going to lap up every little bit of that, my precious pet.” His hand ran back through my hair, touching along the back of my neck and making my back arch with pleasure.

He was playing me like some instrument, carved just for him. It wasn’t fair. How could he control my body so well? I’d never figured, in all my life, that being told to drink some milk from a dog dish would twist my insides and make my pussy throb with need, but it did.

For him, I’d try anything. I nodded and he smiled, reaching his fingers into my mouth and taking out the soaking wet panties, placing them on the bed. I licked around the inside of my mouth, feeling the strange, lace imprint there and tasting the strange, sticky sweetness of my arousal.

“Say thank you,” he urged.

“Thank you,” I whispered back, and he shook his head. One of his hands lingered down over my shoulder blade and sent a thrill down my spine.

“Who am I?”

I paused. “Daniel,” I answered, but I didn’t know his last name. It could have been Albert, I supposed, but he was already shaking his head again.

Then it came back to me what he was looking for, even as he started talking.

“I own you now, don’t I, precious? What does that make you?”

“Yours?”

“And what does that make me?”

My heart leapt into my chest as my eyes dipped away from his. I couldn’t handle those piercing blues any longer. “My owner,” I whispered. “My Master.”

He smiled and tickled my shoulder.

“Good girl. And you’re going to be thanking me a lot over the course of this night, so you should really get used to saying it.” I snuck another peak at him, noticing that his lips were wet. “Besides, precious. It gets me so hard when you say it.”

I couldn’t help that my body jolted with those words. How was I supposed to handle that? How was I supposed to hide my disbelief, my need, all clamouring together into a mess of emotions?

My mouth dropped open and his thumb went to my lower lip, touching it gently.

“Now, while you drink, I’m going to inspect my new possession. The faster you lap every last drop up, the faster this will go.” He was teasing me, those eyes sparking with mischievousness as he stood up again and walked behind me. I looked over my shoulder, but I already knew what he was going to as.

“Spread your legs.”

It was so humiliating, but I’d already done it once. Already let him see such private, personal parts of me. And I couldn’t disobey.

I didn’t want to disobey.

My knees parted, but then his fingers were on my calves, dragging them apart further until I felt my petals open, blossoming for him. I didn’t know, really, what he saw from that perspective, but as he sat behind me, I could only imagine that he enjoyed it.

I looked down at the dish. The faster I go, the faster it was over. I leaned onto one hand, gathering my long hair and pushing it to one side, letting me lower my face to the dish. I was surprised that it parted my lower body even more, my cheeks flushing hot with shame as I began to lick up the milk.

It was a bit sweet, maybe a buttermilk, but it got the taste of my panties from my mouth, so I delicately lapped up a little bit more.

But when his fingertips touched along the curve of my ass, I stilled. He drew a small, curved shape down over the skin, tracing so close to my sex before skirting away. Then back again.

My eyes closed and all my senses were filled with him, that exquisite, teasing touch. He was so gentle, it made me want more, and I found myself pushing back into it. Into him.

He inhaled my scent, though, and I retreated with my embarrassment, licking a bit faster. I hadn’t even finished off a quarter, and his fingers were back, then his palms, then his thumbs. He held both of my ass cheeks, forcing them even further apart, and I could feel his breath against my hot sex. I was so wet. I could tell, as the tickle of his breath passed across my skin and caused me to shiver.

His nose brushed against the inside of my thigh and I gasped. He was so close. His mouth was so close.

I was terrified of what he smelled, what he saw, but his fascination and tenderness soothed my mind enough to want more. To crave him, pressing his mouth to me, his firm tongue guided along my slit. I’d never had someone eat me out before, I’ll be honest, and I never wanted to. Not until this moment.

I shifted slightly so that my cunny was closer to his mouth, hoping so desperately he’d get the hint, but he pulled away, his fingers leaving my flesh before returning on my inner thighs. I felt like my blood was lava, my brain hazed and foggy with need.

He stroked my sensitive inner thighs, feeling out the structure of my flesh, of my body with such intense concentration. I’d completely forgotten about the milk, about anything other than wanting him to touch just a little bit higher, to take some of the strain off my pussy.

My hands trembled as I tried to keep myself upwards, my legs spread so taut, my toes curled into the floor as he pet and stroked my with such attentive affection. No one had ever touched me so softly, with such love in their hands, and I wanted him more than anything. I was tired of him toying with me, but I’d told him not to do the one thing I really wanted him to do now.

And he was totally respecting that, too, his fingers brushing against the inside of my thigh, skirting along my mons, but never against my inner labia. Never threatening me, and that just made me hornier. My mouth opened and a low moan filled the room.

I could almost feel his smile, the way he repeated his gentle motions, eliciting another moan from me, then another. My lower half was practically wiggling against him, wishing he’d fuck up and just brush against me, help me with some of that desperate throbbing in my clit as it reverberated through the rest of my body, but all he did was bring the palm of his hand with a firm but gentle strike against the side of my ass.

The contrast between the softness of his caress and the sharpness of the strike coiled my insides but did nothing to stymie my desire.

“Be still,” he instructed, and I really tried, but it was almost impossible. I glanced down at the bowl of milk, and it was only half finished. Maybe if I drank the rest, he’d be more likely to…

I didn’t even know if I wanted it, but I quickly pulled my hair to the side and began lapping in that rich, sweet milk with renewed urgency. It kept dribbling down my lower lip, and then my chin was covered, but still I persisted as he rewarded me with several more dangerously close swipes of his hand.

I whimpered into the milk, my body turning to jelly against his touch. It was so intense, and at the same time I wanted so much more, I wanted him to stop teasing me. To just get to the point and stop torturing me with the most seductive touches I’d ever felt.

By the time I finished drinking up the last of the milk, my tongue swiping over my lower mouth to try to collect all the remnants of it, I felt delirious. My body was on fire, my mind was emptied of everything but carnal needs, and he gave my bottom a few firm pats. A reward for a job well done.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it, precious?” he cooed as he stood up, walking back in front of me and kneeling. I swear, in my heightened state, I could smell him even stronger in the air. His rich, clean, masculine scent. His hand reached out, his finger rubbing along my chin before offering me a drop on the side of his finger.

This time I didn’t hesitate, lapping my tongue against his flesh, my eyes going up to his. It felt ludicrous, but I felt so damned sexy at that moment. So powerful. I’d never been driven to want someone so bad, and I’d do anything for more.

He smiled, and it lit up his face.

“Good pet,” he murmured, standing up and unchaining my leash from the bedpost, then from my throat. He held a hand out to me, helping me to stand and holding onto my tighter as I realized just how wobbly and uncertain my legs were.

Daniel helped me to the bed, sitting me down as his fingers stroked along my jaw, looking at me with such passion and fire, which I was certain was reflected in my own gaze. Still he guided me so I lay on the bed, on my back, and gingerly he lifted one of my arms.

I’d been afraid of this happening. Ever since Sam had first shown me the little restraints, with those tell-tale D-rings. So why wasn’t that fear present now? Why, when I heard that first metal click, did my pussy throb with excitement?

He was so sexy. It wasn’t even just about his looks, his charm any longer. Those things I’d known since I’d first spotted him, sat on this couch with him. I’d known those things in my bones. But I had no idea how firm, how tenderly he could guide my body into dizzying highs without even touching my pussy, my breasts. He’d avoided those places that most of the boys rushed to with eagerness. He had control over himself, over his desires, and I couldn’t believe what a whimpering mess he was turning me into.

Click, went the first lock, and he walked around the four post bed, reaching for my other hand and repeating the motion. I felt like an angel. A horrible, filthy, hedonistic angel, with her arms spread and her shoulders resting into the finest material I’d ever felt.

And when he went to my ankles, caressing up my waxed legs, feeling over the calves, I didn’t shy away from him. I no longer minded how my body parted so lewdly for him, not with how delicious he was making me feel. My nipples stiffened atop their little perches, the puffy areolas feeling almost swollen with strain.

I almost went to try to touch them, but instead all there was was a jangle of bells and the hitch of the restraint, enough to earn a look from him. Those piercing eyes… Oh, what they were doing to me.

His hands delicately touched along my calf, tracing over the muscle before he lifted my legs, pulling my left leg from the right and restraining that as well. Just one more limb left, and I widened that of my own volition. It felt so raunchy to even do that, without his guidance, without his prodding. The fire in his eyes, though? That made it absolutely worth it. He seemed overjoyed with my obedience.

“Getting into it, finally, my precious?”

I nodded, and he sat on the bed, his weight sinking between my legs as he looked up at me.

“Do you want your panties in your mouth again?” he asked, and there was a noticeable huskiness there. A rawness in his tone, a bit of breathlessness.

I didn’t care if I had the panties in my mouth or not, but damn it, I wanted to please him. To make him want me. To make him need me. I squirmed as I looked away from him, my entire body red with my blush, with my absolute need.

“I take back what I said earlier.”

His breath held and his brow rose and he stared at me, waiting for me to elaborate.

The silence dragged between us, but he had far more patience than me. I knew that. I should have known that. How could a man restrain himself like he’d been doing, touching over a woman’s body without raw, animalistic need overtaking him and making him want his own pleasure?

I licked my lips, still tasting the buttermilk lingering there.

“About…” I swallowed, but I couldn’t say it, and he shifted, one powerful arm going beside my head, his thighs grazing mine. He was so strong, so powerful, and I was forced to look up at him. His blonde hair framed his face, his broad jaw warped with a wicked grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I don’t like being kept waiting, pet,” he said, with a threat in his voice as he reached for the panties beside me, still wet from earlier. “Tell me what you want. Last chance.”

“I take it back,” I repeated. “About what you can’t do.”

He shook his head, raising the panties to my mouth.

“Not good enough,” he said, as his fingers went to my lips, pressing that lacy material between them. I was silenced, and he was gone, his masculine scent lingering in the air around me and making me curse myself. Why couldn’t I just say it? Why couldn’t I have just begged for him to make love to me, to let me feel his hard, beautiful body against mine?

Why was that the hardest thing to do in the world?

I whimpered as he moved around me, opening the dresser again and removing a blindfold. It looked soft, expensive, and felt even nicer as he trailed it up over my arm.

“But, because you didn’t answer me, you’re not going to be able to see me.”

My eyes went wide and I tried to protest around the panties, my body jerking in the restraints and making the bells tingle with a frenzied energy.

“Hush,” he said as his fingers trailed over my neck and to my face, lifting my head as he began tying the material behind my head. “This’ll help remind you to be a good girl,” he said with a growl of arousal to his voice, and even as I tried to squirm away from him, he easily finished that knot. Fixing my blindfold, I was submersed in darkness, robbed of both my ability to see, and my ability to move. Not to mention my words were entirely muffled by the panties.

I felt the bed shift, and I tried to point my head in the direction I hoped he was, but I was utterly helpless. My body burned with need, my pussy throbbing with such desire to be touched, to be fucked, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen now. I’d messed it all up, and seconds ticked into minutes. I didn’t know how long he left me there, void of sensation, but I heard him pouring himself up another drink, the ice clink-clink-clinking around the glass.

Was he looking at me? Or was he just like those others, ignoring my presence, objectifying me as nothing more than a centrepiece atop the bed?

Either way, it made me squirm, the jingle of bells drawing attention to every one of my futile struggles.

He was in his socked feet, so I couldn’t hear him move so well, but my ears strained to hear his motions, to try to sense where he was. When I suddenly felt an ice cold sensation on my left breast, though, I gasped around the panties.

I wasn’t expecting that, and my nipple hardened to an almost painful sensation as the ice started to melt, the cold water caressing the outer curve of my breath as he rubbed the ice around my areola, teasing it and making it ache before suddenly there was warmth. His warmth.

He’d removed the ice, instead bringing his mouth to my stiff little nipple, his teeth grasping it and sending a thrill through my entire body. My moan was stifled through the makeshift gag, but it was almost primal, and it kind of terrified me. My hips rose up off the bed, begging, pleading for more as he suckled my body with such slow, teasing motions, mixed with the roughness of his teeth.

Then, as suddenly as his mouth had enclosed my nipple, it was gone, and the ice was back, the contrast so jarring. From warm, soft, tender mouth to hard and unforgiving cold.

His other hand reached for my right breast, his palm dwarfing my petite, budded breast. He made me feel so small, so slender against his massive body, those demi-god proportions.

But my body responded eagerly to his touch, my back arching to try to feel more, to have more of his body held against mine. He was teasing me into a frenzy, my little bells making their music every time I jerked, any time I angled my body for more, but he always pulled away before I got what I wanted.

The ice cube was melted so fast, my breast soaked with the slightly sticky water, and I pushed my back up again, begging for his mouth, but instead he retreated, a fresh ice cube plucked from his glass and held between his fingers as he drew it down my slender torso, the water pooling in my bellybutton.

My skin prickled with such need and I was having a hard time staying aware of everything that was happening. My mind was fogged with my increasing lust, and as he drew the cold cube down past my stomach, so teasingly slow, I thought I might scream.

Yes, yes, yes! I instead begged, internally, as that cold water found my pubic bone, and I tilted my hips, feeling some of the liquid drip down over my pussy. I could nearly cry, that little bit of sensation lighting me higher rather than bringing me down to earth.

Now I’d had a taste of it, and I craved more, pushing towards him as he retreated, tut-tutting me and standing up again.

“No!” I cried out around the panties, the words muffled and weak, but then he was couched between my legs, so close I could feel his breath gracing against the wetness of my vulva. The cool glass touched against my thigh and he was so close.

I raised my hips again, desperately, but he was too fast for me, compensating by backing up.

“You have such a pretty little pussy, pet,” he said with such a dark growl, his fingers touching against the outer part of my lips, so teasing and cruel. But his words, oh, they were crueler still, and my body burned with shame. It was hard to remember that he could see me, every part of me, while I was blinded and at his mercy.

“Just a beautiful, clean little puss. Just like I like them.”

I wish I could have sunk into the bed, disappearing into the world, but his words had me burning so hot, and when he pressed that ice cube directly against my clit, I screamed against the panties, my entire body sent into shock.

I was so close to cumming, and he’d barely done anything. If he just rubbed it, just a little bit. Just a bit more pressure…

My hips lifted, and to my delight he didn’t withdraw his hand, didn’t make me beg and plead for it. But at the same time, he didn’t help me. He just held still, letting me grind out my orgasm against that little bit of ice, desperate to reach my climax before it melted against my hot sex.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds, I was certain of it, before my cunny throbbed and my body started to spasm. He didn’t let me pull away, though, our flesh still separated by that little frozen toy of his. I didn’t think I’d ever cum so intensely, the sound of my screams, the jangle of the bells, filling my ears as all of my nerves tensed and relaxed in such quick succession.

But when it ebbed, I instead felt the warmth of his fingers against me, the ice melted away into a pool beneath me, mixing with my own sticky-sweet honey.

I was soaking wet, and he trailed his fingertips up over my lower stomach, pushing my ass back into the bed.

“Bad pet,” he growled. “You made such a mess.”

I shuddered from his touch, his words, the headiness of everything. Robbed of my vision it felt like everything else was intensified, his touch so much more potent as he ran his finger over my stomach and down my thighs.

I tried to plead for forgiveness through my gag, but it didn’t matter. Not once his mouth went to my belly button, licking out the remnants of the ice water, teasing around the sensitive edges of my body that had never been touched in such a way. Certainly never licked. I was surprised at how erotic it was, but more than that, I was surprised to find his chest bare as it pressed against my sex.

He could be fully naked and I wouldn’t even know.

The thought thrilled me more than I could ever have expressed and I shuddered again, the threats of another orgasm quickly beginning to take me over.

His mouth worked down over my thighs, skirting so close to my vulva, teasing over the sensitive and newly bare flesh of my sex. All of my nerve endings felt so much more alive there, no longer protected by the hair, and it felt so damned sensual. I could barely stop myself from thrusting my hips up again, but he pressed them down, always keeping me firmly under his control.

“Bad girls don’t get that,” he said, and inwardly I screamed.

I was determined to be a good girl, then. To do what he said. To follow every single one of his commands, and I guess that look of determination crossed my face because he followed it up quickly.

“So if you do exactly as I say, I’ll fuck your pussy with my tongue. Would you like that?”

My head nodded so fast, so hard that the leather collar dug into the flesh a bit and he touched my bellybutton with his thumb. “Good.”

But with that, he was gone again from the bed, and I felt his absence from every part of me. I wanted him back. His warmth. I started shifting when there was that sudden word. “Stop.”

And I obeyed, because I needed him more than anything.

“Good girl,” he responded, and there was the soft padding of his feet as he walked away. Where was he going? I whimpered, but it was muted by the panties. I coiled them in my mouth, trying to swallow my excess saliva.

I’d already cum, but my body still wasn’t relieved. It wanted so much more, and I fought the urge to squirm. Every movement was announced, and I couldn’t shift, even if he wasn’t near. He’d be able to hear, know I disobeyed, and then he wouldn’t… He wouldn’t fuck my pussy with his tongue.

Even thinking the words made me blush, but I’d never wanted anything more in my life. How had he so quickly rendered me from a boring college student into being such a needy sex kitten?

My ears strained, but there was nothing. Not a single sound, and it was so hard to stay still. But I wouldn’t let myself shift, even as my arms began to ache. I could be a good girl. I could do it for him. For thaT.

I started counting in my head, trying to figure out how much time had passed, but it was impossible to even do that. I kept getting distracted with thoughts of all the things he could do to me, how vulnerable I was to him.

I fantasized of him returning, of his mouth on my sex, licking me with such passion before finally he couldn’t contain it any longer. He would read my mind, know what I want and a finger would press in, touching me in such an expert manner, warming me up for him. We’d both know what was happening, and when finally his cock would press into me, there’d be nothing that anyone could do to stop both of us.

A moan escaped my lips, bringing me back into the present, into the absence of his touch, and then I heard his exhale. I looked to my left, but of course all I saw was the darkness of the blindfold, and I whimpered in protest before his fingers went to my mouth, touching my lips. It was such a sensual motion, swiping over my face before his mouth met mine.

It was a chaste kiss, my mouth still filled with my own panties, but my nipples ached and my clit throbbed with such a gentle bit of tenderness. His fingers went behind my ear, stroking at the sensitive flesh and leaned into it.

And then his fingers were prodding my mouth open, removing those panties again. My throat felt so dry and I quickly moistened it, swallowing desperately.

“Don’t stop,” I begged, and his thumb stroked over my throat.

“You’re incredibly bad at remembering who I am,” he whispered into my ear, and I felt moisture in my eyes. What had he done to me?

“Master, Master, Master!” I pleaded so desperately, my voice filled with such strain and need. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Little precious, why would you think I’d be stopping?”

I was frantic as I spoke, my words so hurried.

“You took out my panties,” I paused, “Master, please.”

I could almost feel his smile, the way he was looking down on my. He had all the control. No matter what I said, no matter how I begged him, the final decision was always going to be his, and even as the thought excited me, it tortured me as well.

His fingers ran down my body, resting atop my breast and gently cupping it.

“What do you want me to do, then?” he asked, and he had to know how embarrassing it was for me to have to reply to him, to have to answer him, but I did it.

I said the first thing I thought of.

“Pinch?” I whispered, and when he did just that, I could have sang with joy. It was such an intense feeling, and I squirmed wickedly beneath him.

“What do you say?” he asked, and pinched harder, tugging the nipple further from my body, making my breast taut and fill with tender need.

“Master,” I gasped, the pleasure making my head go fuzzy again and he removed his hand, slapping the flesh of my breast with the back of his hand. It was such a jolt and my eyes flew open to darkness.

“Wrong.”

Another quick, sudden slap that brought tears to my eyes, not because it hurt, but because of the shock.

“Thank you, Master,” he urged me, and I repeated it after him so quickly.

He pinched my nipple again, lightly played with it, teasing it to such a state of stiffness and it was all I could do not to shout, “Harder!”

God, what was he doing to me? Why was he making me shout such filthy, dirty things to him?

But when he obliged me, all my concerns were thrown out the window, his grasp so powerful as he teased my nipple with such roughness. I’d never been touched like this before, but I knew I wanted more. So much more.

He still had all the control over me, but the little bit of power he’d given me quickly filled my head and I squirmed with such desire.

“More,” I whispered, but his hand threatened to leave, and I added on, “Master!”

It almost felt like he’d bruise me, but it was such an intense feeling, and it wasn’t bad. Not at all what I’d expected, that firm pressure, the way all of my nerve endings felt so alive. He stayed almost still, but as I got used to one level of pain, he’d heighten it, making me gasp before getting used to it.

My pussy throbbed, my head filled with such lewd thought and then his hand left my teat and I wondered if I’d done something wrong. His fingers trailed to my mouth again, over my lips, and then there were those dark, rich words.

“Tell me what you really want, little girl.”

I just spit it out. “You, Master!”

His fingertips caressed over me, up over my arms before he undid one binding, unhooking me from the bed. Had I done something wrong again? I was so careful, so hopeful, but then he walked down to my feet, unclasping those too, then at last, my final wrist. I stayed perfectly still, though, my limbs still spread as I waited.

A long time passed like that before he finally said, “Roll over,” and I obeyed that, too. I didn’t know what to expect, but then he was binding me again, my tortured nipples still so hard as they pressed into the mattress. I didn’t speak, though. I was too afraid of ruining whatever he’d hoped to achieve, but as he sat down and brought his hand to my spine, I arched like a cat, wanting his touch.

It travelled lower, down over the seam of my ass before finally, blissfully glancing against my inner lips and making me moan so loud. My legs were still spread so crassly, my vulva parted and exposed as the teased the entrance with the pad of his fingers before retreating.

“I don’t like girls that make me promise not to fuck them,” he said, and then his hand was gone from my body before coming down with a crack on my ass. The slap reverberated through my body and I stiffened, eyes wide and panicked beneath the blindfold, before another spank landed on the other cheek.

I didn’t have a lot of padding, and all of my nerves were on fire from his strikes. My toes curled into the bed, my body retreating into the mattress. His hand landed again and I screamed, long ago having forgotten about the party, about all the other people just outside the door.

Another crack landed, the sting so much more prominent each time his bare palm landed, each one making my push my pelvis further into the bed. The comforter had snaked its way between my thighs, though, and I felt it glance across my sex.

Oh my God.

His hand landed again and I ground against that little bit of material, feeling my clit respond with such joy.

One of his hands, though, stopped me. It snuck in beneath me, pulling me up off the mattress, and I was stuck between those two hands. One rested on my pubic bone, holding me steady as the other cracked down on my ass, the sound, the feel of it filling my body with such a delicious sensation.

Especially as his other hand shifted, his fingertips delving lower before grazing against my exposed bud, brushing it so gently but sending such a wicked thrill through me.

The next spank came quickly, and I wasn’t sure if it was him pressing into me, or me pressing into him, but my clit was pressed down upon, and I thought I might lose myself again. It was still too soon after last time, though, wasn’t it?

I shivered and I must have made a sound of delight because he repeated the motion, the spank and the grinding of my clit, and my response was even more pronounced.

“Did you want to cum again?” he asked and I nearly died.

“Yes,” I pleaded, my body already filled with such electricity, but this time he spanked me harder yet, but there was no pleasurable press of my bundle of nerves.

“Yes, Master! Please, oh God, please,” I pleaded, almost hysterical as his hand pressed back to my delicate nub, and his hand was brought down with another crack.

I nearly cried at the intensity of my orgasm. It was even more pronounced than with the ice, all of my body alight and tender to sensation, and I was crashing down around him, my scream filling both of our ears.

He kept spanking me, rubbing my clit, working me through how many waves of pleasure? I’d lost track, and when he finally started rubbing my sore little ass, his fingers retreating from my cunny, I didn’t know how much more I could take. But I knew he wasn’t done with me.

He’d made a promise, and as he shifted down, I knew he’d intended to fulfill it.

His hands went to my ankles, tickling over my over sensitive feet before loosening the restraint cords, urging me to shift up, presenting my ass into the air as my face was pressed into the pillows. My lower end was in the air, my torso smushed, but it didn’t matter when I felt him move onto the bed.

He lifted my lower body off the bed, both of my shins pressing into his shoulders as he guided me so that my pussy was lined up with his face.

It was an uncomfortable position, and his face was so close to my cunny, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. I would have done anything for him, gone through anything, and when he stuck out his tongue, licking over the full fleshiness of my pussy, I trembled.

“Holy God,” I gasped, and then he was lashing me with such relish. Gone were my worries about what I smelled like, what I looked like, what I tasted like. This ravenous man was eating me as if I were the finest delicacy, and that was enough to sooth my mine.

I quivered, the position almost painful and yet that pain just made me more aware of everything I felt, every little teasing lick of his tongue along my entrance was so pronounced. Every time he sucked my clit into his mouth, I swear I saw stars. I was frantic by the time he teased my insides with his tongue, a growl emitting from his mouth.

But I knew his patience was wearing thin, even then. He’d teased me for so long, teased himself for so long, and I knew what he wanted. I knew what I wanted.

Still, his tongue lashed against me, sucking my inner labia, teasing my entire body. He wasn’t looking to get me off, no. He wanted something more than that.

He wanted me to truly feel his mouth on me. He wanted me to know he was tasting me, enjoying me. He wanted me to burn with need so that I’d beg for him, so that I’d take back what I’d said.

The only thing that had held be back was my shame, but every second with him whittled that away, making me more and more into his toy. His little sex slave that didn’t know how to say no, to deny herself anything any longer.

But it was hard to talk as his tongue worked against my body in such an intense and expert manner.

I knew I had to find my words. I had to plead with him to take me, but his tongue worked up further, teasing the area between my pussy and my ass, and I thought I was going to lose it. It was too much, and I screamed, “Please just fuck me, Master!”

His motions stilled, one of his hands trailing along my tender, red backside as he licked my clit once more before slowly removing both of my shins from his shoulders, gingerly letting me down.

I was so scared he wouldn’t, but almost instantly I felt hard cockflesh press against my swollen, soaking pussy. He took that hard shaft away, though, when I tried to push back into him, and brought his hand to my ass with another crack.

“Bad,” he said

Already I was whimpering a, “Sorry, Master!” I righted myself, staying in position so still, but as he teased his cock over my pussy, I thought I was going to die. It felt so good, and I couldn’t help but push back against him again, another smack stinging my ass almost instantly before he brought his full hand to my ass, pulling the cheeks apart and teasing his cock higher, until the tip was pressed to the most hidden part of me.

“If you press back again,” he growled, and I knew what would happen.

Part of me wanted it to. I felt my own pussy juices coating the entrance to my ass as he ground it there for a moment, and my breath caught in my throat.

But as I stilled, his cock trailed back down to my pussy, over my sex, and I felt how big he really was. It was a teasing and very intentional grind as his thumb pressed against my ass as a threat to stay still.

I was quivering like a frightened animal, but when he brought the head of his cock to my pussy, and rubbed that throbbing flesh against me, I stilled.

“Push back,” he invited, but I knew what would happen.

What I wanted to happen.

I was going to make him fuck me, fill me so desperately.

I couldn’t wait any longer. I let my hips rock back, even as I felt his thumb caress my back entrance. His cock filled me so quickly, though, his pelvis thrusting in, hips grinding against my ass as his thumb teased me, his other hand reaching around to touch my clit.

So many sensations filled me and I was left a quivering mess, grinding against him, begging for more like a wanton slut as I shimmied and moaned. He stayed hilted so deep within me, just encouraging my over eager grinding as I gasped and groaned.

He was perfect. Everything about him. Everything about this.

When he finally began thrusting, it was with slow and precise motions, circling my clit with the same attentiveness as early, even as I heard him start moaning behind me.

His heavy sac slapped against the both of us with each powerful thrust, his motions becoming less restrained, less controlled the longer he fucked me. I wasn’t even sure if I came again. I wasn’t sure if I’d stopped cumming. Jolts of pleasure kept going up and down my spine, swirling and spinning in me like a vortex threatening to take me down.

He could have gotten me to do anything at that moment, and I would have obliged out of blind lust and passion for this man who knew my body so well. I’d had sex before, but this was the first time I ever felt I’d been intimate with another person, and the connection we had couldn’t be faked. It couldn’t be traded for or bartered away. It was real, and when I heard him grunt above me, thrusting in even deeper, I knew he felt it too.

He had to.

His balls tightened against him as he thrust into me once more before that powerful need overtook him and a growl escaped his throat as he came deep within me.

I whimpered as he did, taking him in so deep, and my little bells jangled as I struggled against him. He wouldn’t let me escape, though, grinding against me, making me feel every last jolt that ran through him, his powerful orgasm rocking us both before it finally subsided.

He didn’t pull out right away, instead staying within me, his hips rotating as his fingers touched against my thigh as he grabbed something off the bed. When that buzzing started, I knew there was nothing else that made that sound, and when the intense vibrations touched against my clit, I almost lost my mind.

The little vibrator was strong, and I was already so desperately sensitive, on the brink of insanity. But he didn’t let me shy away from the sensation. No, he kept his cock lodged in me, pulling me close as he sent me over the brink on more time with his toy, my pussy throbbing around him, milking him of every last drop. He was hyper sensitive too, and the moans and sounds he made only sent me higher as my body jerked and rocked against his strong hold.

When finally he let it drop back to the bed, grasping the condom as he pulled out of me, I slumped back to the bed, utterly spent. It was a few moments before his fingers were in my hand, undoing the blindfold, and I was surprised to find him clothed again.

Gingerly he went to each of my wrists, delicately undoing the restraints and removing the leather bindings from me. He brought a warm cloth from the bathroom, rubbing the soft material over my sex, the sensation so tender and sweet as I gasped against it, and then he was wrapping me in his arms, hugging me to his clothed chest, brushing the hair from my face.

Our mouths entangled and I pressed into him with a desire I’d never felt before. I lost track of how long we made out, but eventually we drifted into sweet, blissful slumber, both of us entirely spent.

* * *

When I awoke the next morning, or what I assumed to be the next morning, it was with two strong arms around my body, hugging me into Daniel’s hard, sexy form. I would have thought it had all been a dream, if not for that. Something too good to be real.

But instead, his nose nuzzled into my neck, his cock throbbing against me with his early morning erection. He wasn’t yet awake, I could tell, but his deep breathing and bodily heat were enough to make my body prickle with awareness.

I still didn’t know how this could be real, and I caught myself holding my breath, as if I were afraid to disturb him and make him leave. The night before had been one of the most exciting experiences of my life, and he’d turned me onto a craving I never knew I had before.

So what happens if he woke up and told me that this was the only time? That he’d lost interest now that I’d so easily caved and let him do whatever he wanted?

I curled my slender arm over his bulkier one, needing the warmth of his presence. If he was going to leave, and everything was going to topple down around me, I might as well enjoy this last little bit of time I had with him.

My fingers traced over the back of his hand, along his veins as I listened to his deep, relaxed breathing. The blankets were pulled up around my armpits, and I felt so comfortable. It was the best way to wake up, I was certain.

I had lost myself in thought until his low growl and a grind of his hips brought me back to reality and I smiled. Nervousness still clutched at my stomach, but how affectionate and warm he was slowly started to make that disappear.

“Morning,” I whispered, and I could almost hear his smile against my ear before he nipped it with his teeth.

“Morning.”

“How’d you sleep?” I asked, instantly regretting how trite and non-seductive I sounded.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind and his arm clutched around me, pulling my back to his chest.

“The best,” he growled out and it sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.

His fingers traced over my collarbone lazily, feeling out my skin as his hips kept rocking against my ass. His touch was gentle again, like it had been when he first grazed his hand over my hip, and I longed for that. It wasn’t as though he’d been particularly hard on me, but my brain was having a hard time comprehending what he’d lit up inside me.

I realized, very suddenly, how much I didn't want for him to leave. I was addicted, to finding more about myself. For his touch.

My fingertips slid overtop of his hand, tickling him as he touched my flesh, my nipples hardening against the blanket. I didn’t know what to say.

How could I put all that into words?

And besides, I was tortured by the thought that he might not return my affection. Maybe this was just a fun night, a relaxing thing for him to have such control over another.

But his fingers slipped lower down my chest, teasing through the center of my breasts before gently caressing the slight curve at the bottom, then down over my ribs. He was breathing so deeply, peppered little growls coming from his lips against my ears, and I caught myself grinding into him.

His hardness was nestled between my ass, and he met me with equalled enthusiasm. His hand moved from my breast, down to my hip, clasping it and pulling me against him, holding me still. For a second I thought I’d done something wrong, that he wasn’t interested, but I hoped that wasn’t true.

Instead, he lifted a hand up and over to the nightstand, grabbing the little silver wrapper, and before I could question it, he had the condom on and was lining up his cock between my thighs. He was still spooned into me so warmly, and I was breathing so hard.

“Okay?” he asked simply, and I nodded.

It was slow, the way he shifted to press into my slick folds, as if he were enjoying the act rather than racing to the end. His low groan, the way he held my hip, was all exquisite and I opened my mouth, letting out a little whimper.

He felt so good. Rock hard, filling me so deeply as he nestled into my depths. When he finally could go no further, my ass against his hips, his hands reached around and stroked my bare flesh, usually protected by hair. It was intense, just the sensation of having him touch me so sensually, and my breath quickened.

There was none of the games from last night, none of the play that had turned my life upside down, but the early morning, slow fuck was still intense. It warped my mind, my heart blossoming with such affection.

I wanted more of him. So much more.

We writhed in unison, his hand lightly grazing over my flesh with such a tender curiosity, as if he were trying to commit every dip and curve to memory. The thought made me smile and I wriggled against him more eagerly, encouraging him to go harder, faster, but he pulled me back into him.

“Uh-uh,” he chastised gently, my shoulder blades pressed to his chest as he held me still. “I’m not going to hurry with you, pet.”

I thought it was his body, his touch I lusted for. But at those deep, devious words, I realized it went far deeper. He just... got me. What I wanted. What I needed to hear.

I stilled and he continued to pump himself into me with slick little sounds as my body craved more.

His fingers brushed some of my hair from my face, nuzzling my ear, nipping the lobe between his teeth. It was just a little bit of sharpness injected into the otherwise sweet and slow motions, and it made me squeal.

“Hush,” he growled right near my ear, and the word coiled in my belly. “You don’t want anyone to hear you.”

But the thought that someone might, that was a bit exciting. Still, I bit back my next moan, and he bit my earlobe a bit softer, more teasing.

And then his fingertips went lower over my stomach until they were almost at his cock, touching over my wet petals. He stroked them so fondly, not with a frenzied intention, and the joy that wrapped around me felt eternal.

He made me feel like he was worshiping me. Enjoying my body, even the parts of me I hated.

A single digit pressed between my swollen lips, coaxing my clit from its hiding place with the sticky wetness that surrounded it.

“You like that?” Daniel asked, and I nodded.

“Say it.”

I hesitated, my entire body flushing. It felt so embarrassing to have to say something like that, but he wanted to hear it so bad. I didn’t want to mess up, and my voice was so weak as I murmured, “I like it.”

His finger withdrew and I was filled with panic and disappointment, my body stiffening.

“Beg for more, precious pet. If you like it so much.”

I wriggled against him in protest, but his hand held me secure in place.

“None of that,” he chided, his fingers getting further and further away from the place I wanted them.

My brain clouded over and I whimpered. “Please touch me again,” I pleaded, but his hand kept moving up instead of down.

“I said beg.”

I still felt so exhausted from the night before, like I needed some time to unwind and digest what had happened, but he offered no reprieve. I needed to find some reserve within myself so that I could obey, and again I made a soft little noise of protest.

“I’m begging you,” I gasped out.

“To do what?”

My brain swirled with annoyance at him, at myself for not being able to do what he asked, and I struggled out more words, hoping they were right.

“Please touch me. Please... I’m begging.”

“Touch you where?” he continued, fingertips moving to my chest and pinching a nipple. First it was just a gentle squeeze, exciting the sensitive flesh, but then it was harder and sent a shock through my body.

I moaned, the sound so lewd.

“Rub my clit,” I quickly said, the words spilling out on top of each other. He paused the pressure on my stiff nipple, but he didn’t move as I’d pleaded with him to. Quickly I realized what he was asking for, and I tried once more.

“Please, Master, please rub my clit. I’m begging you.”

That seemed to be what he was waiting for, because his hand started running down over my breast, along my ribs, then down further as he growled in my ear. “Keep going.”

What more was there to say? My mind wasn’t working right, but I just let the words pour out, without filter.

“I want to cum on you.” Oh god, did I say that? I squirmed against him so needily. “Master,” I gasped as his fingers met my loins. “I wanna cum on your dick, Master.”

Oh, there was no way I could be more embarrassed, or more turned on, by being forced to say that. It certainly helped it was the truth, and I squirmed harder. His fingers delved between my lips once more, and I stilled, letting him coax that little bud, the sensations sparking through me.

“Master,” my mouth trembled. “Right there.”

He growled in my ear and I thought I’d done wrong again, but instead he nuzzled my face with his, that bit of scruff on his cheeks creating such a strange sensation through my tender flesh. His fingers rubbed me more eagerly, and each time I spoke, whimpering for more, he became more insistent.

“Ah-” I gasped, struggling out the words that I hoped he wanted to hear. “You feel so good, Master.” This so wasn’t like me. It felt so cheesy, so raunchy, but so right at the same time. Like I was fighting past a wall I’d erected to keep this side of me hidden.

“So good,” I gasped as his touch became rougher, his cock thrusting into me quicker. His breath was growing deeper and faster to match my own, and I moaned so lewdly at it. “Fuck me,” I whispered, and he growled his approval in my ear.

“Keep going.”

“Fuck me, Master,” I repeated, my voice louder than I intended. “I need to cum on your--” I had to pause, to force myself to say it. “I need to cum on your cock, Master.” Every time I said it, that rush of bad-girlness flooded me.

“Mhm.” His finger rewarded me, pressing down, rubbing just right. “Then cum, precious,” he growled, and even though my orgasm had felt so distant, those words brought it to my body almost immediately. It took me by total surprise as my pussy clenched against his cock, my body filled with spasmodic electricity.

I gasped, then cried out, my orgasm hitting me so hard as I whimpered and writhed against his cock and finger as they kept coaxing more from me.

But then he shuddered, my pussy clasping him so tightly and milking forth his own orgasm, and together we toppled, blissfully, over that precipice.

My mind went blank and there was nothing but the smell of sex, the feel of sweaty bodies grinding and writhing together as the immense feelings of ecstasy made my eyes fluttered close and a weak cry erupted from the depths of my throat.

By the time I finally came down, he was kissing my shoulder, down over my arm, then up to my hair, nuzzling me so affectionately. I sank into it, into him, and breathed it all in.

“You are so good,” he whispered, still cuddled into my back, clasping me to him possessively.

I smiled, but I couldn’t say his words didn’t shock me. I swallowed, lifting his hand to my mouth and kissing his finger gently, tasting my own sweetness lingering there.

It took us a long time before we pulled apart, just lying there in the peace of one another’s arms, caressing and touching. I didn’t want it to end. I was terrified he’d show me to the door, give me what he owed me, and then just... disappear. Back to his life and all of the elegant people he must know.

But as he pulled up his pants, he helped me up and gave me his shirt. I hadn’t realized, but he’d also hung up my thong to dry, and though it felt strange, I was grateful as I pulled them on.

“I’ll drive you home,” he said, caressing my cheek with such tenderness, a spark of affection in those killer blue eyes.

I nodded. What would Sam say?

Still, I couldn’t refuse, even though all the way home we didn’t speak. Just listened to music. He had similar taste to me, and it allowed me to both appreciate it and relax into the familiar sounds, feeling so out of place in my bare-footed, half-dressed way.

The sun was hidden by clouds, making it look drearier than it was, though I was grateful for that. It was Sunday afternoon by the time he pulled up to our dorm, and I had the embarrassing task of sneaking in and hoping no one would see me in my skivvies.

But, of course, I hadn’t been thinking clearly and he handed me his phone with a smile.

“Call Sam,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully at me. “I’m not going to let you walk around like this again. Next time, you’ll bring a change of clothes.”

Next time?

I flushed as I dialed the phone, grateful he had her number programed in. I barely remembered the conversation. Instead, ‘Next time’ just kept curling in my head. When I handed him back his phone, he tugged my hand in and smiled. “Dinner tomorrow?”

I nodded immediately.

He kissed my lips, his fingertip running along my jawline, and then Sam was at the window, knocking loudly. I flushed and pulled back, and he discreetly handed me an envelope.

“My number is in there. As is the number of the doctor I mentioned. I’ll have the appointment made before our date.”

Daniel rolled down my window, giving a pleasant smile to Sam as she shoved some pants and shoes through the opening.

“About time you came home,” Sam said, annoyance and relief blended in one as I squirmed into the comfortable jeans and tossed on my shoes. I felt more like myself immediately, though the feel of his oversized cotton shirt reminded me that I was someone new.

Someone better.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said to him before leaning in, pressing my mouth to his hungrily.

When Sam finally pulled me away, upstairs into our dorm, and I tossed the envelope down onto my bed, all I could do was smile. I had a real date with a demi-god.

Afterword

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Here's a snippet:

* * *

Zach couldn’t help but throb against her; that was nature and instinct acting of its own accord. Otherwise he was sweet and tender, stroking a hand over her back and along her shoulder. “I tried not to think about it back then,” he confessed, “but yeah, I think so.”

His lips kissed softly beneath her ear, “I just wanted more time with you... always. From the moment I first desired women, it was you I wanted to be around, sis.” They swayed and stepped back and forth upon the sand with their nuzzling and touches, “This time together was just a blessing... space to let me come to terms with how I felt for you.”

“I always noticed. I mean since getting here,” she whispered. “I just figured that couldn’t be helped. That it was just ‘cause you were a boy and I didn’t want to embarrass you,” she paused and swallowed, and her voice was so quiet it was barely audible over the birds and the waves that sang and crashed around them, “I didn’t want to hope.”

Zach stilled then, for her words confirmed something more precious and meaningful to him than he would’ve dared hope. He needed a moment to calm his blood, to let that sink in as he slowly moved along her cheek until their lips aligned.

He kissed her there for the first time, plush and full, no more skirting her mouth sheepishly. His tongue snaked out to lap at her gingerly as he squeezed her body in against his, those full breasts mashed against his hard pecs.

It was so much, their youthful bodies so warm and wanting as her arms encircled him. She tugged him nearer and her mouth worked against his so much more frantically. It wasn’t the thoughtful, careful motions of him. Instead it was passion unleashed, her hand working up along his neck and into his hair, feeling him out so eagerly.

It felt wrong to be doing this, Zach realized, but the rightness of it outweighed that. It was so much better to give in, to let his hands slide over her body, feel out her flesh and move down to palm a cheek and squeeze than it was to resist and be a good brother.

As her excitement grew, so did his, and he gave a low groan as he kissed her back passionately. He was barely even aware of it as his free hand stroked along her spine to find the clasp of her bra, undoing it in his lusty haze as his manhood swelled and pulsed so rapidly.

* * *

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About the Author

Candy Quinn loves writing naughty, dirty stories - both short and sexy, and long and scandalous. Lots of taboo pregnancy, discipline, and first time virgins fill her filthy mind, which she loves to share with you. If you need something to scratch that secret itch, turn to Candy!

Connect with Candy!

- @sexycandyquinn

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candy.quinn.erotica@gmail.com

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