her last month. She said you’ve been cheating on me for a year. She said that I’m a whore who won’t hold your attention.”
“Listen to me. She lied to you. I don’t know what she is about, but I have not played with her since the second time you and I played. I knew then that I didn’t want anyone else. I was in Arizona last month for business and I did come to the club, as you know, but I did not scene or play with anyone. I had a few drinks, and enjoyed watching some of the best play. I taught a young buck a thing or two about tying knots. I did not touch her. She tried, she tried hard, and I rejected her. I am sure that’s what this is about.”
“You didn’t touch her?”
“No. I wish you would have come to me instead of getting angry. I promised you I would be honest, remember?”
“I’m sorry.” She looks down at her hands. She is fuming again, but this time, her anger is directed at Nina.
“Do I have your attention now, Butterfly?”
“You do, Sir.”
“Do I need to do anything else to get you into the right mindset for tonight? Do you speak to your dom the way you did?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good. Because, the masquerade is supposed to be fun for us. I would hate to cut the night early and take you home. I have no problem properly punishing you here and then taking you home, tying you up, and bringing you to the brink of orgasm over and over until you fall asleep wanting and exhausted. No more naughtiness, do you understand me?”
“I understand, Sir!” She is panting with need already.
God. She must be drenched. Her pheromones are driving me insane. If we don’t get out of here soon, I am going to shred her dress and fuck her right here on the floor. I have plans for tonight, big plans. I need to control myself.
“I don’t think you do. I think you need a little taste.” I bend and pick up her bra, carefully putting it back on her. I snap the back of it closed and readjust her dress. “Get up and go lie down on the table, pull your dress up to your hips.”
I like what I see. Her perfectly shaved pussy is covered by only a small triangle of silky red fabric. It’s a sexy thong—chosen, I am sure, just for me. She knows my favorite color is red. She hasn’t put it together yet. Blood red.
Just as I expected, her thong is drenched. I pull it down to just above her knees, exposing her delicious womanly delights to my gaze. I inhale the scent of her arousal, growing increasingly harder and more uncomfortable. This isn’t about me, nor is it about bringing her to pleasure. Control.
I part her lips with my thumb and bend forward. I lick at her clit with my tongue, like a cat lapping up milk. Just enough to drive her nuts. With practiced precision, I lick at the tip of her bundle of nerves, enjoying her taste in my mouth. She moans beneath me, squirming in pleasure.
“Oh God!”
Blowing lightly over her clit, sending goosebumps over her entire body, I move a finger into her slick, waiting hole. Thrusting in and out, a motion my throbbing cock is dying to mimic, I listen to her body. She doesn’t get to orgasm, no, I will stop when she gets to the very edge, leave her nerves electric and standing at attention for me.
Her hips are rising to meet each thrust. I add a second finger, stretching her. I move my tongue back to its place over her swollen clit. Licking and suckling, I feel her tensing beneath me. She’s panting in pleasure, her moans growing in desperation. Her back arches on the table, her thrusts become violent.
“I’m so close, so so close. Please, please. Please, Sir!” Her begging is music to my ears. “Oh. My. God.” Her pussy clenches around my fingers. She is going to come. Time to stop. I pull out my fingers and stand.
“Clean them.” I bring my fingers to her mouth. Her eyes glisten with need, arousal and frustration. She looks at me. I know she wants to talk back. She wants to beg and plead for an orgasm. But I’ve trained my submissive much better than that. She opens her mouth to clean her taste off of my fingers.
Bastard.
The one-word thought has me chuckling. I won’t