Taste of Pleasure

Ryan sat her on the edge of his bed—which was where she belonged, a voice in his head said – in his room, in his bed. Darkness consumed them, but the awareness, the need, between them, expanded in the room, with a life of its own, not even he could control. Possessiveness roared inside him in a way, he rarely felt. His duty as a Master, was that of control, that of directing the experience, and it was all he could do not to bury himself deep inside her. He used the remote he’d grab from a shelf by the door, and set the light on dim and seductive.

Almost instantly, Sarah started to lift her legs, and knowing she planned to curl them in front of her, to hide herself, Ryan stepped forward, stopping her. He pressed her legs downward, bracing them on the footboard, and then inched them apart. “Open for me my timid little she-devil in training.” He spread her wide, his hands traveling her silky skin, up her thighs. His fingers slid to the soft curls, to the sensitive flesh in the V of her body. “So wet and hot. You want my cock inside you, don’t you?”

“Ryan—”

“Don’t you Sarah,” he demanded, allowing her no room for shyness.

“Yes,” she gasped, leaning back on her hands, arching into his touch, her breasts thrusting in the air, nipples stiff and swollen.

He leaned over her body, licking on nipple and suckling and taking her with him and he raised upright, pressing one of her her hands between her thighs. “Pleasure yourself while I undress,” he said. “Show me how to touch you, show me what makes you moan. I want you to be ready for me.” He slid her fingers along her core and then brought them to his mouth. “You taste like honey, wickedly sweet and ripe, for my enjoyment.” He pressed her hand back to her body, and saw the insecurity flash over her delicate features, a direct contrast to the desire burning in her eyes, and issued a warning “It’s your duty to please me, Sarah. You must do what I say. And I want to see you pleasure yourself.” For several seconds he helped her touch herself, helped her past her insecurity—his fingers, her fingers—sliding into her wet heat of her sensitive flesh, until she moaned with need. He smiled and allowed her to continue her caresses of her body on her own, pausing to pinch her nipples, tucking them roughly, before he stepped away to undress. But his gaze held hers, willed her to continue touching herself.

And she did, her face awash in desire, in hunger, her chest heaving as she panted, so close to the orgasm. “You are not to come, Sarah,” he said sharply. “You will come only when I say you can come.”

The guilt on her face, the ache of need, ripped through him. He was undressed now, his cock ramrod stiff in front of him, pulsing with arousal. Ryan knew he was in trouble with Sarah, knew she splintered the concrete block of willpower he previous though impervious of a woman’s influence. He’d intended to put her on her knees, at his feet, and submit her, make her suck him deep and hard, make her lick him dry. But that crack was threatening to become far deeper, to destroy his control. “Move to the headboard,” he ordered.
Her gaze traveled his body, lingering on his erection, before she bit her sensual, hot little bottom lip he wanted on his cock. He felt that crack widen. “Now Sarah,” he said roughly by intent.

Her eyes shot to his, more of that guilt in them, before she outright defied him. She slipped off the bed, and didexactly what he;d been fantasizing about her doing. As if, she read him as he should be reading her. She went to her knees, beneath his cock. But like a good sub, her instincts apparently kicking in, she spared herself punished. She didn’t touch without permission, didn’t cross that critical line.

“Can I please…Master?” she asked. ”Can I please you?”

His blood ran hot at that one word—Master. He stared down at her, incapable of denying her what he himself wanted. “It is your duty to please me as it is mine to please you. So yes, you may pleasure me, Sarah.”

She licked her lips and wrapped her hand around his width, her tongue snaked out to touch the hot, swollen tip of his cock, before she said, “This pleases me very much. Does it please you?”

A low growl escaped his lips, his hand going to her head. “You taking me in your mouth will please me. Take me. Take all of me.” She did as he said, taking him in her mouth, suckling him. “Deeper,” he ordered, the wet sounds of her pleasuring him burning through him like fire in his veins. “Deeper.” He thrust into her mouth, forcing himself on her, showing her he was still the one in control. And she took him, moaned as if she liked it. She did like it. This knowledge pleased him, pleased him immensely, in fact.

The tingled sensation of release began to climb from his balls through his erection with the sizzling promise of absolute pleasure, until he spilled himself in her mouth. Sarah drew on him deeply, took it in, used her tongue to lick him dry, just as he would have ordered her to do.

When she finally pulled back, she cast him an innocent upward glance, he doubted to be innocent at all and said, “I liked doing that to you.”

He was still hard when he should not be—and without the cock ring, many dominants used during long ‘play’ session. Yes, he was still hard, and with her words—I liked doing that to you—he could feel the pulse of arousal building again, and incredibly, expanding in his groin. For just an instant, he wasn’t sure who was really in charge, and that was unacceptable, unacceptable and in need of correction. He reached for Sarah, and lifted her, setting her on the bed, shifting them both the center of the mattress, within reach of a condom he had under the pillow.

He sheathed himself and slid to the V of her body, reminding himself of that unacceptable factor again, of the need to claim his control, and telling himself to turn her over, to tie her down. But she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “Please,” and with that one word she gave him enough control to justify what he burned for—to justify how much he didn’t care about anything right now but kissing her and burying himself inside her. So he did—he claimed Sarah’s mouth, sliding his tongue against hers in a silky caress, even as he entered her, took her, stroked her inside and out. Then made good on his promise to kiss every inch of her, even if it wasn’t while she was tied up. And when it was all over—he knew, he’d not only claimed Sarah, and claimed her well, but she too, had claimed him, and claimed him well. He nuzzled her hair, where she slept on his shoulder, inhaling the soft, floral scent of her he knew to be natural to her, knew because she had always smelled sweet, even all those years ago.

Ryan stared at the ceiling as she slept, and decided he was going to need a repeat of tonight to ensure Sarah knew who the real Master was in this relationship. A smile touched his lips. If next time went as this night had, if there was any doubt of his role as Master, they’d simple do a repeat, and another, and as many as it took to ensure she understood, he owned her.

Ah, but soft voice warned in his head—what if she proves her acts of submission to be so sweet, so incredible, that she owns you? It was genuine risk, he’d never thought he’d face. Tough it was true, he was on dangerous territory with Sarah, she was the most powerful high he’d ever experienced. He wanted more.