Make Me, Sir
Page 14
She could taste herself and then only him as he took her mouth, demanding a response in the same way he had her orgasm. She melted inside under the heady knowledge that he could take what he wanted from her—and she’d give him whatever he wanted.
When he pulled back, his eyes were heavy-lidded. “You kiss as nicely as you come, Gabrielle. Next week we’ll have more time together, but I didn’t want to leave you uncomfortable until then.”
The sound of a high voice drew her notice, and she realized people still stood in the hallway, watching. Audience. She had a job to do, even though she’d rather lie here and soak up his attention—his approving attention that made her feel as if he liked her. Damned if she didn’t really want him to like her.
No, Gabi. Think, think. Must act like a brat for the audience. A little difficult to do, considering how she was tied down. And she’d just come. Then again, she could attack the man where it would hurt the most—on his performance. “You think I got off? That was a hiccup from too much lunch,” she said loudly and heard a few gasps as well as a titter of laughter.
His eyes narrowed. “An ornery one, aren’t you? Trainee, I believe you’d best have no confusion over what you’re feeling. Perhaps a lesson is in order.” The expression on his face wasn’t angry, quite, or annoyed, quite. Not even determined. He acted as if she’d merely confirmed his expectations. Without explanation, he turned and took gloves and lube from the shelves beside the sink.
Glove? Lube? Wait. “Sir?”
“Shhh, sugar, I think it’s time for another hiccup.” Still standing, he grasped the table’s stirrups and ratcheted them upward until her feet were not only widely spread, but as high as his shoulders. The position lifted her butt an inch, but the strap around her waist kept the rest of her body flat on the table. “That’s just right.”
She raised her head to see what he was doing, but he held his hands below the level of the table. Giving up, she laid her head down, wanting to take back her words, yet oddly excited at not knowing what he’d do next. Nothing about him was predictable; she had a feeling he never would be. He was…smart. Maybe too smart for her, and that was an uncomfortable thought.
After resuming his seat on the stool, he glided his tongue and lips over her pussy, slower this time. Her head started to spin. When he licked over her clit, she clenched her hands at the sudden return of need. He bit her labia, and the strange, stinging pain somehow made everything else more intense. He kept teasing her, and she realized he planned to make her climax again. If she thought to prevent it… Well, she couldn’t, she realized, as her clit hardened under the firm attention of his tongue. No matter what she wanted, he would have her coming again in front of all these people.
Then something slick and round circled her anus. “Wait—I didn’t agree to this. Hey!”
“No, I planned to explore anal sex in your training later,” he said and pressed his finger against the puckered circle of muscle, making her squirm. “But things change. You have a tight little asshole, sugar. Push back against me now, and you’ll find it easier.”
She pulled in an unhappy breath and, realizing she had no choice, did as he asked. A merciless gloved finger penetrated where no lover had ever gone before. A tremor shook her at the way he’d relentlessly done as he wanted.
“Gabrielle. Look at me.”
She lifted her gaze.
He watched her face as his finger eased farther in. Not quite pain. The cool lubricant made him very slick, yet even the slightly increased girth of his knuckle stretched and burned. As he took possession of a place that was so very private, her insides felt funny—as if he’d taken possession of her inner self as well. She tried to squirm away and failed. “No…please.”
“Shhh. You don’t have the reins, sugar.” The controlled power in his low voice slid into her; his steady eyes pinned hers, forcing her to focus on him…and yet his finger didn’t stop moving, the lesson inescapable. He could touch her anywhere.
I don’t like this. It was too intimate, left her feeling exposed and—
His eyes released her. He smiled and lowered his head. Oh God, he wouldn’t…
A whine escaped her when he licked her clit again, so hot, so wet. Before she could adjust to that added stimulation, he slid two fingers inside her vagina, ruthlessly creating a counterpoint of thrusts with the finger in her bottom. His tongue rubbed its demand on one side of her clit, then the other, then the top.
Sensations blasted through her from too many places, and her arousal grew, building high and hard. Somehow, as if a switch flipped, the uncomfortable sensations in her anus changed into a dark pleasure, merging with the slick sliding in her vagina until her whole pussy—her whole lower half—felt like one giant clit about to explode.
Every muscle in her body contracted. Her hips lifted futilely against the strap, trying to get closer. Her breath froze, waiting for just a little more, anything more…
His low chuckle vibrated against her labia, and then he licked insistently right over her clit, his tongue staying on it, wiggling right…there…and everything inside her spasmed in a giant tsunami of sensation, sweeping her away. The sensations from her anus added a whole new dimension until even her skin seemed to expand, billowing outward. God God God.
As the waves lessoned, and her brain clicked back on, she could still hear her yelping screams echoing around the room.
Laughter and some applause came from the hallway. She opened her eyes, blearily realizing that people had definitely watched her. Oh hell.
“Nice hiccups, Gabrielle.” Master Marcus’s final tonguing sent a shudder up her center.
She bit her lip. I am totally not going to taunt him right now.
With baby wipes from the tray, he proceeded to clean her so thoroughly, front and back, that a mortified flush heated her face.
When he finally helped her off the table, her head spun as if she’d ridden a merry-go-round for an hour, and he caught her with a powerful grip before she did a face-plant. Chuckling, he wrapped a blanket around her and sat her in a chair to one side while he cleaned the room.
He pulled on his suit jacket and stood in front of her for a second, then shook his head and scooped her into his arms.
“Jesus, wait, you can’t carry me,” she gasped. What if lifting her strained his back? What if he dropped her?
He only laughed. Hell, he wasn’t even watching where he walked.
She struggled to get out of the confining blanket, and he said in a firm voice, “Lie still, Li’ll subbie, or you’ll have a different type of lesson.”
Oh, that definitely sounded like a threat. She stilled. As he carried her out of the hallway and into the club, she stared at the distant floor, cringed, and looked up at his face instead. He had a stern jawline. His white shirt was opened a couple of buttons, displaying his corded neck. Against her shoulder, his rock-hard bicep bunched, yet he didn’t act as if he carried anything heavier than a…a poodle or something.
She tried to relax, unsure if she liked the sensation of being cared for—whether she wanted to be or not.
At a small sitting area hidden from the main room by a row of plants, he settled into an oversize leather chair. She glanced around. Completely private…she wouldn’t have to perform right now.
He tipped her against his chest, settling her head into the hollow of his shoulder. “There we go,” he murmured. “Are you comfortable, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. He was being so nice. Unexpected and unwelcome tears prickled her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
He pushed her hair back behind her ear, then put a finger under her chin, lifting her face. “What do you mean by „this"? Holding you?”
“Yes. And…and getting me off when you didn’t…and shaving me…and—”
“You are very inexperienced in true dom-sub relationships, aren’t you?” With her head against him, she could hear the laugh rumbling in his chest. “Many reasons, sugar. First, I’m holding you now because you needed to be held.” He kissed her lips softly. “As your trainer and dom, it’s my job to see that you get what you need.”
“But I wanted down.”
His mouth turned up in a faint smile. “What you need, sugar, not what you want.”
Why did that send a tremor through her yet make her snuggle closer? Why did an iron-hard arm behind her back feel like safety?
But as her parents complained, a more argumentative person than Gabrielle had never lived. “I didn’t need to get off.” Hadn’t even thought about it.
“You need to learn that pleasure as well as pain comes from your dom’s hands.” His eyes met her, level and confident. “And you need to know, right down to the bone, that I have access to every part of your body.”
He’d shaved her, such an intimate task, and touched her, controlled her, forced an orgasm from her. He’d put his finger into her bottom and made her come again. Even now, his arms held her so firmly that she realized she remained under his control.
Her whole body started to shake as if she’d been sitting in the snow, and her breath thickened, forcing her to work for air. This wasn’t what she’d signed on for. He kept taking…more, like with a Monopoly game, seeing her hotels and land disappear piece by piece until the banker owned her. I don’t want him to own me.
When he pulled back, his eyes were heavy-lidded. “You kiss as nicely as you come, Gabrielle. Next week we’ll have more time together, but I didn’t want to leave you uncomfortable until then.”
The sound of a high voice drew her notice, and she realized people still stood in the hallway, watching. Audience. She had a job to do, even though she’d rather lie here and soak up his attention—his approving attention that made her feel as if he liked her. Damned if she didn’t really want him to like her.
No, Gabi. Think, think. Must act like a brat for the audience. A little difficult to do, considering how she was tied down. And she’d just come. Then again, she could attack the man where it would hurt the most—on his performance. “You think I got off? That was a hiccup from too much lunch,” she said loudly and heard a few gasps as well as a titter of laughter.
His eyes narrowed. “An ornery one, aren’t you? Trainee, I believe you’d best have no confusion over what you’re feeling. Perhaps a lesson is in order.” The expression on his face wasn’t angry, quite, or annoyed, quite. Not even determined. He acted as if she’d merely confirmed his expectations. Without explanation, he turned and took gloves and lube from the shelves beside the sink.
Glove? Lube? Wait. “Sir?”
“Shhh, sugar, I think it’s time for another hiccup.” Still standing, he grasped the table’s stirrups and ratcheted them upward until her feet were not only widely spread, but as high as his shoulders. The position lifted her butt an inch, but the strap around her waist kept the rest of her body flat on the table. “That’s just right.”
She raised her head to see what he was doing, but he held his hands below the level of the table. Giving up, she laid her head down, wanting to take back her words, yet oddly excited at not knowing what he’d do next. Nothing about him was predictable; she had a feeling he never would be. He was…smart. Maybe too smart for her, and that was an uncomfortable thought.
After resuming his seat on the stool, he glided his tongue and lips over her pussy, slower this time. Her head started to spin. When he licked over her clit, she clenched her hands at the sudden return of need. He bit her labia, and the strange, stinging pain somehow made everything else more intense. He kept teasing her, and she realized he planned to make her climax again. If she thought to prevent it… Well, she couldn’t, she realized, as her clit hardened under the firm attention of his tongue. No matter what she wanted, he would have her coming again in front of all these people.
Then something slick and round circled her anus. “Wait—I didn’t agree to this. Hey!”
“No, I planned to explore anal sex in your training later,” he said and pressed his finger against the puckered circle of muscle, making her squirm. “But things change. You have a tight little asshole, sugar. Push back against me now, and you’ll find it easier.”
She pulled in an unhappy breath and, realizing she had no choice, did as he asked. A merciless gloved finger penetrated where no lover had ever gone before. A tremor shook her at the way he’d relentlessly done as he wanted.
“Gabrielle. Look at me.”
She lifted her gaze.
He watched her face as his finger eased farther in. Not quite pain. The cool lubricant made him very slick, yet even the slightly increased girth of his knuckle stretched and burned. As he took possession of a place that was so very private, her insides felt funny—as if he’d taken possession of her inner self as well. She tried to squirm away and failed. “No…please.”
“Shhh. You don’t have the reins, sugar.” The controlled power in his low voice slid into her; his steady eyes pinned hers, forcing her to focus on him…and yet his finger didn’t stop moving, the lesson inescapable. He could touch her anywhere.
I don’t like this. It was too intimate, left her feeling exposed and—
His eyes released her. He smiled and lowered his head. Oh God, he wouldn’t…
A whine escaped her when he licked her clit again, so hot, so wet. Before she could adjust to that added stimulation, he slid two fingers inside her vagina, ruthlessly creating a counterpoint of thrusts with the finger in her bottom. His tongue rubbed its demand on one side of her clit, then the other, then the top.
Sensations blasted through her from too many places, and her arousal grew, building high and hard. Somehow, as if a switch flipped, the uncomfortable sensations in her anus changed into a dark pleasure, merging with the slick sliding in her vagina until her whole pussy—her whole lower half—felt like one giant clit about to explode.
Every muscle in her body contracted. Her hips lifted futilely against the strap, trying to get closer. Her breath froze, waiting for just a little more, anything more…
His low chuckle vibrated against her labia, and then he licked insistently right over her clit, his tongue staying on it, wiggling right…there…and everything inside her spasmed in a giant tsunami of sensation, sweeping her away. The sensations from her anus added a whole new dimension until even her skin seemed to expand, billowing outward. God God God.
As the waves lessoned, and her brain clicked back on, she could still hear her yelping screams echoing around the room.
Laughter and some applause came from the hallway. She opened her eyes, blearily realizing that people had definitely watched her. Oh hell.
“Nice hiccups, Gabrielle.” Master Marcus’s final tonguing sent a shudder up her center.
She bit her lip. I am totally not going to taunt him right now.
With baby wipes from the tray, he proceeded to clean her so thoroughly, front and back, that a mortified flush heated her face.
When he finally helped her off the table, her head spun as if she’d ridden a merry-go-round for an hour, and he caught her with a powerful grip before she did a face-plant. Chuckling, he wrapped a blanket around her and sat her in a chair to one side while he cleaned the room.
He pulled on his suit jacket and stood in front of her for a second, then shook his head and scooped her into his arms.
“Jesus, wait, you can’t carry me,” she gasped. What if lifting her strained his back? What if he dropped her?
He only laughed. Hell, he wasn’t even watching where he walked.
She struggled to get out of the confining blanket, and he said in a firm voice, “Lie still, Li’ll subbie, or you’ll have a different type of lesson.”
Oh, that definitely sounded like a threat. She stilled. As he carried her out of the hallway and into the club, she stared at the distant floor, cringed, and looked up at his face instead. He had a stern jawline. His white shirt was opened a couple of buttons, displaying his corded neck. Against her shoulder, his rock-hard bicep bunched, yet he didn’t act as if he carried anything heavier than a…a poodle or something.
She tried to relax, unsure if she liked the sensation of being cared for—whether she wanted to be or not.
At a small sitting area hidden from the main room by a row of plants, he settled into an oversize leather chair. She glanced around. Completely private…she wouldn’t have to perform right now.
He tipped her against his chest, settling her head into the hollow of his shoulder. “There we go,” he murmured. “Are you comfortable, sweetheart?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. He was being so nice. Unexpected and unwelcome tears prickled her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
He pushed her hair back behind her ear, then put a finger under her chin, lifting her face. “What do you mean by „this"? Holding you?”
“Yes. And…and getting me off when you didn’t…and shaving me…and—”
“You are very inexperienced in true dom-sub relationships, aren’t you?” With her head against him, she could hear the laugh rumbling in his chest. “Many reasons, sugar. First, I’m holding you now because you needed to be held.” He kissed her lips softly. “As your trainer and dom, it’s my job to see that you get what you need.”
“But I wanted down.”
His mouth turned up in a faint smile. “What you need, sugar, not what you want.”
Why did that send a tremor through her yet make her snuggle closer? Why did an iron-hard arm behind her back feel like safety?
But as her parents complained, a more argumentative person than Gabrielle had never lived. “I didn’t need to get off.” Hadn’t even thought about it.
“You need to learn that pleasure as well as pain comes from your dom’s hands.” His eyes met her, level and confident. “And you need to know, right down to the bone, that I have access to every part of your body.”
He’d shaved her, such an intimate task, and touched her, controlled her, forced an orgasm from her. He’d put his finger into her bottom and made her come again. Even now, his arms held her so firmly that she realized she remained under his control.
Her whole body started to shake as if she’d been sitting in the snow, and her breath thickened, forcing her to work for air. This wasn’t what she’d signed on for. He kept taking…more, like with a Monopoly game, seeing her hotels and land disappear piece by piece until the banker owned her. I don’t want him to own me.
