His Name Is Sir (The Power to Please #3) (24 page)

I held my breath, waiting while that finger found its way to my ass, worked up against my tight ring of muscles, and pushed some of the lubricant inside me. Three more times he loaded up his finger, pushing the stuff farther inside me each time, then he closed the bottle and tossed it back into the bag. His free hand squeezed around mine once more. His other hand returned to my ass.

All the while he was doing this, he never stopped nuzzling my ear and neck, making soothing sounds that nonetheless failed to calm me. I was terrified of what he might be readying me for.

When he pressed a second finger against my tight hole, he said, “Push against me when I enter you, with your muscles. It will make it easier.”

I pushed, and his second finger slid into me much easier than it had before, with less discomfort.

“Better?” he asked.

I nodded, returned a breathy, “Yes.”

His fingers moved inside me, stretching me, gently sliding in and out, never coming out all the way and I was grateful for that at least. I closed my eyes and told myself to bear it.

Gibson said quietly in my ear, “So hot and tight. I can’t get enough of you.”

I had longed for words of praise from him, like these, but I wished they didn’t have to be about this act. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

He whispered to me to relax. I couldn’t. He removed a finger and asked if that was better. I said it was, but when he asked if it felt good, I had to tell him no. I didn’t like it.

He stopped moving, but left his finger deep inside me. He kissed my neck then said, “Tell me what you don’t like about it.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do. Tell me.”

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“We’ve done things together that were far more uncomfortable for you than this.”

“I know. This is different.”

“Tell me how it’s different.”

“I’ve never liked it. It feels like I have to go to the bathroom.”

“That will change, the more time I spend inside you. It will change quickly, if you let it.”

My memory flashed on Kamun in Michael’s dungeon and the beer bottle and what almost happened. I wanted to tell Gibson about it. But I couldn’t. Didn’t want to admit to it.

I wasn’t a victim, and I didn’t want to sound like one. And anyway, I’d never liked “anal play,” Kamun or no Kamun. I had simply learned to put up with it.

I said, “It’s gross. Dirty.”

He pulled his finger out of me and said, “Open your eyes.”

I did. He held his hand in front of my face, showing me his shiny and slick, but otherwise clean finger.

He said, “I’m not far into you. Nothing’s on me.”

“Still ...”

He put his finger against my asshole again, told me to push and slipped his finger inside me as far it would go. I shifted uncomfortably.

Gibson said, “Anything else you don’t like about it?”

“Nothing I can think of at the moment. Maybe if you took your finger out of me I could think of something else.”

I heard a smile in his voice. “No, I’m not taking it out yet. I like how it feels inside you too much. Push. Here comes my second finger again.”

I groaned, but did as he asked.

He said, “I’m going to tell you some things I want you to do, and you’ll obey me, won’t you?”

“I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask. First, I want you to stop thinking about that place as dirty. You saw for yourself that there was nothing on me. Whenever you feel disgusted about it, stop yourself. Can you try that?”

“I suppose.”

“Good. Second, I want you to shift up a little bit, there, so I can reach your clit with my other hand. Right. There.”

He stroked through my still-wet slit, gathering moisture, then ran his fingers over my clitoris. I stiffened.

He said, “Third, I want you to relax your muscles. All over your body. Go limp. Like that, yes. I’m going to start moving my fingers inside of you, so don’t tighten up again. Focus on relaxing. Yes, very good.”

He kissed my hair and played feather touches over my clit. “Lastly, I want you to think about this from my perspective, from what I’m feeling.”

His voice dropped even lower. “I have my fingers inside you, I’m fucking you in your ass that’s so tight and hot and slick it’s like torture. I’m moving slowly and carefully and savoring it, even while my natural impulse is to pound into you until you scream.”

I shuddered.

His voice was quiet still, but growing harsher. “I want to spread your sweet little ass and watch your hole stretch from my entry. I want to go deeper inside you, as far as I can go, stretch and widen you, make you take more and more until you’re truly ready for me, ready for what I want of you.”

My heart rate quickened. His fingers working over my swollen clit distracted me from his fingers sliding in and out of me.

He said, “Because that’s what I want. I want to fuck your ass, Nonnie. I want my cock inside you, to claim that ass as mine, to take what no one else has taken. Right now, I’m imagining what it will look like, your head and shoulders pushed down on the mattress, your pretty ass up in the air, waiting for me, the head of my cock pushed against your tight little hole, slowly spreading you open.”

I began to pant and my hips twitched. I couldn’t deny the power of his words, the fierceness in his voice. The passion.

His fingers picked up their pace, both inside me and on my clit. “I’m imagining what it will feel like to cram my dick inch by inch inside you, how even for me it will be a mixture of pleasure and pain, you’ll be so tight around me. I’m thinking of how it will look when I’m all the way in, can’t go any farther. I’m thinking of the noises you’ll be making, of your muscles contracting and releasing around me.”

His breath was hot on my ear and cheek, and his fingers were fucking me quickly now, rapid fire in short strokes. My clitoris thrummed under his touch. I squeezed.

Gibson growled. “Yes, that’s it, beautiful one. Feel it. Feel the difference. It’s not what you’re used to.”

I gasped, “Yes.”

He said, “Come for me. See my cock in your ass. Relax your muscles and come for me.”

I moaned and obeyed. He was right. This was different. It didn’t feel the same as when his fingers were in my pussy. This was something else. Something not necessarily better, but higher pitched, centering from a new place.

The pitch rose higher, and he thrust inside me with more speed than ever, and it drove me upward, upward, until I cried out as the full force of my orgasm broke over me.

I called out Gibson’s name, and arched up against him, captured by this new thing, this different thing that was rolling over me and through me.

I had barely crested the peak when Gibson moved with graceful speed, turning me onto my stomach, lifting me at the hips, lowering his pants and pushing his huge cock against my asshole.

I didn’t have time to react before he said, “I want to take you right now, but I won’t. You’re not ready yet. Know though, when the time’s right, I’ll be the one to take it. It’s mine.”

With that, he moved his dick down to my pussy and drove inside me with a ferocious push that made me gasp and sent me scooting forward a few inches from the force. His fingers dug into my hips and held me in place while he fucked me hard and harsh.

He pushed a finger in my ass. His thick cock pumped into me, slamming into the back of my womb. God, I was going to come again. Felt it growing again, before the last one was truly over.

My orgasm struck, and I yelled out. Gibson pounded into me, his balls slapping against me, then with one last mighty thrust, he came inside me, my pussy undulating around him, his cock twitching as he released himself into my depths.

I felt as if I were being lifted out of my body, taken elsewhere, a place of pure bliss and sparkles, pulses of splendor. I hung there, suspended and bound in pleasure. I would have stayed there forever, if I could have.

But I fell back down into myself, and the weight of Gibson collapsing onto me was fine, too, perfect in a different way. I turned my head as far as I could to reach him, to accept the kisses he laid on my neck and cheeks. His lips closed over mine, so fervent, so wonderful.

I would have stayed there forever, too, if I could have.

Chapter 13

Much later, we sprawled together in the Jacuzzi, contentedly watching the lights of the city beyond the glass walls. The chemical tang of the treated water battled with the enticing aroma of the chocolate cake which Gibson had set beside the tub, but had yet to offer to me.

I sat crosswise from Gibson, at the corner of tub, and played my toes over his lap as he stroked up the outside of my leg. The water was hot, but not too hot, the pulsing jets on a gentle setting, and I was comforted by it all, and by my lover’s touch. I admired the way he relaxed in the tub, his head tilted back, his eyes closed.

I said, “You still haven’t delivered on the dessert. I haven’t forgotten.”

He half-grinned. “Did I promise dessert?”

“You said ‘later,’ I’m pretty sure.”

“No, I think that was you.”

“So you just brought that plate back here to taunt me?”

“Would you like some?”

“I would, thank you.”

He opened his eyes and gave me a level look. “Since you say I promised, then I’ll have to deliver. If you recall, I also said we’d be exploring pain tonight.”

I was decidedly less enthusiastic about pain than chocolate desserts.

He said, “I think we can take care of both things at the same time. Come over here and sit on my lap.”

Okay, I liked the idea of being on his lap. I straddled him, enjoying the smooth solidity of his bare thighs under my rear, the squeeze of his fingers around my waist.

The extra height brought my breasts up above the water line, and Gibson leaned forward to take one of my nipples into his mouth. He sucked and tongued my flesh until my nipple tingled and stood out hard and firm.

After a final flick of his tongue, he reached for a small black box he had brought along with the cake. I’d been wondering what it was. When he opened the box and I saw the pair of shiny silver gizmos inside, I was still none the wiser.

Gibson removed one of the pieces and held it in front of me. It was about an inch wide and maybe a half inch longer in height. There were two flat parts facing each other, with tiny connecting rods at top and bottom. On one side, in the center was a miniscule screw-looking thing, and on the other, a sort of button.

He said, “It’s a nipple clamp. You’re going to be wearing it.”

I was surprised. It didn’t look anything like the nipple clamps I had seen before at the adult toy store with Michael, or the few times I’d spied one online.

Gibson fitted the small clamp over my hardened nipple, then began to twist the screw on the side, slowly closing the jaws. I could see now that the inside of the clamps had a rough surface, undoubtedly to improve traction. I shuddered.

Every twist of the screw made a little click sound. I wondered at how Gibson’s large fingers could manage turning such a miniscule object. But manage it, he did. The clamp squeezed tighter and tighter around my nipple until it was snug in place.

It didn’t hurt. It was mildly uncomfortable; that was all.

Gibson admired how it looked on me. “Beautiful, don’t you think?”

I had to admit it was an erotic sight, the bright metal surrounding the base of my slightly bulging nipple. I swallowed hard and made a sort-of nod.

He smiled, danced a few fingers over my nipple that increased the discomfort. “Doesn’t hurt much, does it?”

“No.”

“You did well with that,” he said. “You’ve earned a bite of cake.”

He dried his fingers on a towel before pulling off a small piece of the tort and bringing it to my lips. “Open,” he said.

I did, and he popped the chocolate in my mouth. I closed my mouth and savored the bite. “Mmm,” I moaned. It was delicious. All creamy smooth and chocolate perfection.

I eyed the plate, hoping for more.

He said, “Turn the screw on the clamp one click and I’ll give you another bite.”

Well, now, that was a devil’s offer if I ever heard one. I closed my fingertips over the tiny screw and turned. The pressure on my nipple increased slightly. Click.

I opened my mouth. Gibson seemed pleased, and fed me another piece of cake.

He said, “Again.”

I twisted until the clamp clicked. Once more, Gibson gave me a taste of bliss.

Then again.

And again.

My nipple bulged out above the clamp that was now biting harshly around the base. For such a delicate-looking device, the clamp had a terrible strength. My nipple stung. And I didn’t think the cake was worth one more click.