Chapter 50

No sooner had the front door thumped closed behind Cinder’s husband than I rotated my hand. Soon enough, with my thumb flicking and rubbing her hot clit, screams filled the room. With more following, she flung her head backwards to thud against the mirror. As I battered the swollen stem and pumped my digits deeper, she started another wondrous, body-shattering flight from the planet.

However, it was necessary to push her limits. With a chuckle, I yanked my fingers free in a spray of glittering droplets. For a split second, her wild eyes lifted to find mine. Utter despair at being abandoned filled them. But as her sticky frame slapped against the glass, she dropped her gaze. Yes, she’d been very well-trained.

Experienced or not, she could withstand only so much. As I took another step away, a lengthy squeak announced her shaking body sliding to the rubber mats. From beneath battered silvery tresses, soaked with sweat, and plastered to her shoulders, she whimpered as aftershocks rippled through her. Her rapid breathing blasted shiny wisps upwards.

With a grin for the cameras, I unlocked the door and left. After following the corridor, I walked into a well-equipped granite and steel kitchen. A quick check of the cupboards and the fridge and I held a glass of ice water. After emptying it with three swift gulps, I gasped for air.

“Fuck,” I mumbled while looking back towards the gym. “Preparation complete.”

With a tired sigh, I swept a rivulet of sweat from my face. That had been the first phase of the plan, but the toughest lay ahead.

Unlike Mandy, Cinder was not new to our world. No, she’d accepted my bargain. Had she been inexperienced, we would’ve laid out expectations, but with Cinder ... It was part of our agreement. If worthy of her, I’d uncover all her needs. And find her red lines.

“If she has any,” I muttered before draining a second glass.

With a heavy sigh, I moved to a well-stocked bar and filled two tall glasses with very expensive bourbon. After returning to the kitchen, I placed them on a counter. As I headed back towards the gym, mumbling and the soft squeak of her body against the mirrored wall met my ears.

“Only phase one,” I whispered, then shook my head. How much could she endure? I looked down at my achy, stiff rod. Or me?

As soon as I reappeared, she tensed. Even as muscles rippled across her frame, she pressed her lips, struggling to keep quiet. Of course, there’d been no attempt to flee. Nor had she moved. When I grasped the end of the robe belt and tugged her from the wall, she only whimpered. One more tug, and she lurched forward onto her hands and knees.

“Come on, whore,” I growled before snatching my pack from the floor and leading her from the room.

The true assessment was about to begin.

Behind me, she crawled along the corridor to the kitchen. Although the hard tile drew whimpers, there was no hesitation in her movements. Once beside the counter, I stopped and dragged the leash around until she’d halted before me.

Air hissed from her when I glided my fingers into her silken tresses. I caught the flick of her gaze at my throbbing mast and the lengthy silvery trail it was sending to the tiles. But no sound escaped her as I pulled on the leash, peeling her hands from the floor and settling her onto her knees.

Without only a quiet moan, she slid both thighs wider. And, a fast learner, she placed both palms on the back of her skull. Only a quick sigh left her when I released her head to lift a glass.

“Open,” I commanded, as those glimmering green pools came into view.

As her lips parted, I tilted the rim. At first, she gazed up at me. No fear. Only desire. That drive to please. But with a gasp, she realized her eyes were fixed on me. They closed, sealing away her needy soul. As she swallowed, I eased more water into her before taking the empty glass away.

“More?” I asked.

“Y-Yes, please, mas—”

Although my eyebrow raised at her voice’s sudden stop, I looped the silk belt around a nearby barstool back. With her secured like a horse before a western saloon, I went to refill the glass. Once halted before her, I lowered the water. Eyes once more open, she tracked my hand, lowering the glass. However, her quivering lips remained sealed.

Those green pools flashed at me. It was brief, but an understanding flicked between us. The bargain continued.

“Beg,” I commanded.

“Please, mas—” She gulped before clearing her throat. “May I have more water?”

At her reply, I was intrigued. Not the instant response. That had been expected. But twice she’d almost called me “master.”

When I stepped closer, grasping the root of my shaft, to smear its bulbous head along her cheek, she stayed motionless. As I dragged it nearer her mouth, her lips parted. But just as the twinkling tip of her tongue peeked, I took it away.

Instead, I lowered the glass. “Here. Take it.”

Shaky, her hands moved to grasp the water. As she lifted her face to drink, she kept her eyes closed. When she was done, she held out the glass in both fists as if she were offering me a grail. No sooner had I retrieved it than both palms slapped onto the rear of her bowing head.

After raising a glass of bourbon, I took a long sip. Smooth. A heavy sigh left me. Yeah, achy and laser-focused on the kneeling woman before me, at that point, I needed something much stronger than water.

But it was time to play.

“Suck me,” I said, while stepping closer. When her hands started to move from her head, I added in a low growl, “Mouth, whore. No hands.”

Both palms snapped back onto her skull. As she raised her head and opened her lips, the fiery blasts of her steady breathing on my shaft sent jolts down my spine. Then, as she shifted to aim for my tip, those eyes flicked to me. And stayed on me as the most delightful moist warmth eased over my knob. As her cheeks sank, a groan slipped from me.

A wondrous rhythm began right away. Between the languid, twisting bobs and gentle swirls of her tongue, I was struggling not to gasp. At that angle, she could only take me so far, but she was dedicated. Her delightful ministrations didn’t slow when I leaned back against the counter to take another sip of bourbon.

“Don’t want to come, yet, cunt,” I growled while spreading my legs.

Without her hands on my shaft and with me forcing myself to be calm, she had few clues about how close I was. So, every quiet moan or sudden quiver of my limbs caused her to tense up and slow. She was like an EOD tech on a live bomb, with only half her sensors.

“Mmm, you are quite the superb cocksucker,” I murmured while sliding a hand down to caress her languidly puffing cheeks. “Always appreciate that in a whore. Or should I say slave?”

Because it was time to call her out. Past time. When I’d uttered the word “slave,” those cheeks had collapsed so fast my knees wobbled under the suction. So, boom, correct. Well, of course I’d been correct, but that was validation.

“Here.” I lowered the other tumbler. “Take a break. I’ll fuck your mouth later.”

At first, she sucked harder. Her eyes blazed up at me. Reluctance. So desperate to prove her worth. But when I moved the tumbler closer, she relented. After blasting heat from her nostrils along my aching flesh, she eased her velvet mouth from my glossy bulb.

But just as a hand slipped from her skull, reaching for the glass, her tongue lashed out at my wobbling tip. With her gaze fixated on me, it swirled, collecting a glistening trail of pre-cum. After drawing it back into her shiny lips, she raised her chin so I could watch her swallow.

Yeah, message received. As she took the tumbler from me, I gave her a smile. Her eyes twinkled as she downed two healthy swigs of whiskey. With a swift lick of her lips, she lifted the glass towards me.

“All of it, cunt.”

After a brief pause, she inhaled, then gulped the rest of the strong booze. Once I’d retrieved the empty glass from her, I placed it on the counter beside mine. On to the next phase.

“Want me to fuck you now, whore?” I said in a calm tone while reaching for her leash.

Unlike my commands, I’d been so nonchalant it took her a few seconds to respond. But she did. With her pale body quivering, her hands shook along her skull.

“Y-Yes”—that talented little tongue swept around her lips several times—”please.”

“Please what?” That time, I dropped my voice into a gravelly growl.

“Please fuck me!” shot from her.

“Okay.” I nodded and straightened, pulling away from the counter.

After untying the fit blonde from the barstool, I took her once again, on all fours, back to the foyer. A set of carpeted stairs led upwards to a long hallway. Taking a guess, I headed for a pair of large wooden doors at its far end.

All the way, she hadn’t said a word. From the sound of chewing lips, she was beyond whimpering. Or had been until we entered an expansive bedroom.

A strident moan left her as my gaze settled on a massive, dark wooden bedframe. The room was filled with matching furniture. A comfortable sitting area was before a set of tall glass doors leading to a broad patio. As I tugged her over plush carpeting towards the white sheets, we crossed orange bands of sunlight.

When I slowed beside the bed, she crawled past me and clambered up onto the creaking mattress. At my hand on her ankle, she froze. But still said nothing as I rolled her sleek, athletic form onto her back. Vivid in the sunshine, those flashing green eyes widened when I snatched a pillow and placed it above her head. They fluttered as I untied the pink silk from the collar’s ring and eased it around her wrists.

“If you move your hands”—I placed the bound appendages beneath the pillow—”I will lash you down for real. Leave you here for your husband to find, clear?”

“Yes.” She nodded while tracking me, straightening over her.

“Good girl.”

Although a slender smile crossed her lips at my praise, they widened to emit a moan when I gripped her shaking thighs. As I spread her legs, her feet scratched along the edge of the bed. With her eyes on my rod hovering above her tightening stomach muscles, she arched her pelvis upwards. Her swollen petals glinted in the sunlight.

A low gust pulled my gaze to the patio doors. After a rapid flapping, snowy translucent curtains swirled. When I lifted her legs to my chest, she emitted a desperate mewling sound. Yeah, she would be waking the neighbors.

As I leaned forward, bending her until both feet dangled either side of her head, the quiet cry became hitching breaths. But even as my aching knob glided over her upturned folds, she kept her chin down, trying to avert her eyes.

“Look at me,” I commanded while staring at her fluttering eyelashes.

When they flew wide, my pulse thundered. Such lust. Anticipation. That same desire—no craving—to please. As I eased into her pulsating tightness, they ignited into flaring emerald pools.

After all we’d done, she was so wet I was deep within her in one long motion. As the tiniest whimpers escaped her shaking lips, her soft flesh undulated along my shaft.