Over the Line (19 page)

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Authors: Sierra Cartwright

BOOK: Over the Line
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“You haven’t jacked off since we were together last?”

“Not even once.” Which might have been somewhat of a record for him. He was a sexual man, and he generally started his day by masturbating in the shower.

He donned a condom. As much as he liked it when he’d had her use her mouth to roll it down him, he didn’t want to wait that long.

“Shall I keep the shoes on, Sir?”

“Only if you want to drive me wild.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

As much as he liked that idea, he looked at them and calculated the damage the spikes might cause his body, especially since he didn’t intend to be gentle with her. Those pieces of metal would cause more than erotic pain. “The shoes will have to go for now, no matter how much I’d rather leave them on you.” He pulled off one and tossed it in the direction of the closet, wincing when he heard metal connect with the refinished hardwood.

“I guess they’re also a weapon, in a pinch,” she said.

He removed the second one a bit more respectfully and tucked it under the bed. “Roll on your back and put your feet flat on the mattress,” he said. “And let your knees fall to the sides comfortably.” When she did, her body was available to him, as if in invitation. “Your body is still red,” he told her, tracing some of the marks with his thumb.

“Thank you for doing that for me, Sir.”

Oh, yes. She was perfect.

“How are your arms? Shoulders okay?”

“Fine, Sir.”

“Good. Then grab the headboard.”

She opened her eyes wide and did as he had instructed. It only took him a minute to cuff her in place.

Her breathing increased.

“I’ll help you into position, but I want you to put your knees over my shoulders.”

He knelt between her legs and lifted her hips since he knew she wouldn’t be able to get a lot of leverage herself.

When she was properly positioned, he took his penis in hand and placed his cockhead at her entrance. He captured her gaze and rubbed her clit.

“Sir!”

After her experience outside, he wanted to be sure she really was ready for this. But she rocked her body in silent demand. He’d never been with a woman this free, this voracious. And it stoked his appetites.

He stroked himself as he fed his cock into her. As he surged forwards, his shoulders putting pressure on the backs of her legs, she moaned slightly. “Too much?”

“Stretching my hamstrings and my pussy, Sir. It feels good. Please don’t stop.”

Now that his cock was buried in her hot cunt, it would take all his resolve to pull out.

“Fuck me,” she urged.

That was it.

He placed his hands next to her head so that he could balance his weight. She was obviously in excellent physical condition, but with the angle and the fact that he outweighed her by a good eighty or ninety pounds, he couldn’t collapse on top of her, despite the temptation.

After starting with a few long, slow strokes to get her ready, he fucked her hard and deep, jiggling her breasts and making her gasp.

He craved release as much as she did. But this angle, and how incredible it felt, lent itself to another idea.

Calling on all his restraint, he pulled out.

“Sir?”

To her credit, she looked at him with a frown of puzzlement, rather than anger. “Give me a moment,” he said. “Keep your legs spread, with your feet flat on the mattress.”

“You’re making me nervous.”

“You should be.” He pulled out a small glass butt plug from his toy box.

“Ah…”

“Turtle?” he asked, his back to her as he squirted lube all over the smooth egg shape. He turned to face her again.

Instead of answering directly, she said, “Taking your cock in that position is difficult enough, Sir.”

“You can use a safe word or a slow word any time you need to.” He suspected she wouldn’t, even if it was just because of pride. “We had a discussion that first evening at the Den about your limits. You didn’t mention it.”

She scowled, and she looked utterly adorable.

Since he valued his hide, he didn’t say so to her. “I’ll make sure you’re prepared as I insert it.” And he would watch for signs of real discomfort, not just uncertainty.

“I don’t suppose it matters that I don’t want that up my ass?”

“Not at all. Lift your legs straight up.”

It took her so long to obey that he was beginning to doubt she intended to. He sat on the bed, put his back to her leg then leant back a bit, forcing her into a stretch and keeping her in place. Since she was not going to cooperate easily, so he intended to use his power to force her compliance. The angle he’d selected exposed her anal whorl. “This will be easier on you if you open up.”

She kept her muscles constricted.

“It’s going in, little subbie. Like it or not.” He teased the glass between her pussy lips, running the smooth surface back and forth until her clit hardened.

She exerted pressure against him as she wordlessly sought more.

“So, so perfect,” he told her. He ran the egg a little lower, teasing her ass.

“I…”

“It’s okay to like it,” he promised her. “This is barely bigger than my finger, and you took that fine.” He placed the end of the egg to her ass then pulled the toy away. Again and again he repeated the motion, but each time he pressed the plug in a little deeper. When he got to the thickest part, she mewled. Tired of her histrionics, he smacked her cunt, hard. He used the distraction to drive it the rest of the way in.

“That’s—”

“In. All the way.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Would you like to continue to protest?”

“No, Sir.”

He took hold of her legs and placed her feet back on the sheets. “I’ll give you a moment to adjust to the feeling.

“It’s a little cold, Sir.”

“It will warm up.” He washed his hands in the master bathroom before returning to her. “Now, if you’d like, you’re welcome to come while I fuck you.” His cock was still hard, and he hadn’t removed the condom.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to with the pressure.”

“It may be a while before you have another opportunity. The plug stays.”

She wrinkled her nose.

He moved between her legs, manoeuvring her into position, her legs over his shoulders, and pressing his cockhead against her opening.

“Oh!”

He gave her a moment to use one of her words, but when she didn’t he pulled back a bit before moving forward again. She was right about how tight it was going to be. As he finally sank all the way into her, she gulped for air. Her channel was damp and slick, and the pressure from the plug was nearly enough to make him come. “Are you okay, little subbie?”

“Fuck, Sir.”

His thoughts, exactly.

“I’m… Do me.”

Knowing it pleased her, he lowered himself a bit more, and she grunted.

“I’ve never had someone so deep.” She seemed to struggle a bit for breath, but she didn’t protest. “You might have convinced me to do more stretching, though,” she said.

He kissed the top of her head before fucking her hard, relentlessly impaling her time and again. There was nothing soft or sensuous about it—it was as turbulent as a mountain blizzard.

With every thrust, she cried out, and he had to force himself to think of her pleasure before selfishly taking his own in her hot body.

“I think I’m going to come,” she said.

“Come, subbie. All over me.”

She used her knees against his shoulders to dig in and raise her pelvis to change his angle.

“Sir!”

He rocked in and out at a frantic pace, and she screamed as her body convulsed. She thrashed and he gritted his teeth long enough to reach up and release her cuffs. Instantly, she grabbed onto the back of his neck as she rocketed through another orgasm. God, he loved pleasing this woman.

Her internal contractions helped drive his climax. He went still, grinding his back teeth together. A hot pulse shot through him as he ejaculated in powerful spurts.

“Sir, Sir!”

He moaned, and he felt her body convulse again. “Come, subbie,” he told her as he shuddered once again, the final bit of fluid surging out of him.

Afterwards, breathing hard, he rolled off her and pulled her tight against him.

She didn’t protest.

He held her for several minutes, until their breathing had returned to normal.

“That was…”

“Yes?” he asked.

“Spectacular, Sir.”

“No worse for wear?”

“Deliciously sore everywhere, Sir.”

That, he liked to hear. “I think we need that steak,” he said. “After a shower. Let me take out that plug for you.”

“Thanks,” she said, rolling onto her side to face him. “I’ll manage it.”

“Embarrassed? After everything we’ve done.”

“That’s a little personal, Sir.”

“All the more reason for me to do it. On your stomach.”

“Uhm…”

“Tur-tle?”

“Damn you. You know I can’t use a slow word, Sir.”

“Then the sooner we get this over with the better.” Before she could argue any further, he flipped her over. “Stick up your ass.”

“I’m glad you can’t see me blushing.”

He spanked her right below the buttocks. “Enough stalling.”

She squealed, but offered her ass.

He grasped the base. “Bear down.” The pressure of her sphincter eased, and he pulled out the plug. “Not so bad, was it?”

“Says the Dom. You try being the sub.”

“I’m clear on the roles,” he told her. “And so you should be, as well.” Climbing from the bed, he went into the bathroom to cleanse the plug and dispose of his condom.

By the time she joined him, the shower water was warm and steam filled the room. “It appears I marked you,” he said.

She looked down at her body. Like he had done, she traced a couple of the more prominent ones.

He entered the shower unit and invited her in.

“Most men don’t share their shower.” She looked at him.

Once again, he was unexpectedly struck by her bright blue eyes. The orgasm had drained his testicles, but the sight of her naked, wet body and slightly parted lips was enough to knock him in the solar plexus. “I’m not most men,” he reminded her.

“That’s becoming obvious, Sir.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Scary.”

It was for him, as well. He lathered the soap and washed her breasts and stomach before moving his hand between her legs. “Turn around,” he instructed, washing her back and shoulders.

She braced her palms on the tiles, surrendering to his ministrations.

He crouched to cleanse her buttocks and legs.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said when he detached the showerhead to rinse her off. “That feels so good. My muscles were a little more cramped than I thought after being tied up. I could stay here all day.”

“I’d let you,” he said.

He reached for one of the towels he’d tossed over the glass door and offered it to her as he helped her out of the enclosure. “I’ll be right with you,” he said.

He joined her a few minutes later in the bedroom.

“Uh, I wasn’t sure what to put on,” she said. The bath towel was still wrapped around her. She had obviously run downstairs to retrieve her bag, but she’d taken nothing from it. When she glanced at him, he saw a tiny furrow on her forehead.

He understood the depth of her question, and he recognised this was another of those pivotal moments. He could tell her to put on the outfit she’d bought in Miami. Or he could tell her to wear the clothes she’d had on earlier. Either way, she was looking to him to define the relationship and asking if he wanted her to stay longer. That she hadn’t made the decision for herself told him she was uncertain, too. “I want you to be comfortable,” he said, drying his hair with a towel, aiming for casualness he was suddenly nowhere near feeling. “But make no mistake. It doesn’t matter what you wear. It won’t stop me from fucking you senseless on the kitchen table after dinner.”

 

 

Chapter Eight

Sydney exhaled a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. How did he always freaking know the exact right words to say?

Master Michael walked into his closet and when he came out, he was wearing a pair of faded jeans and seen-better-days boots. He’d put on a navy T-shirt that showed off his biceps and made her imagination serve up all kinds of naughty scenarios. Anytime she was nervous, he defused the feeling and lightened the atmosphere.

“I’ll start dinner,” he said.

She dressed in her skirt and top from earlier. She couldn’t find her sandals then remembered she’d left them outside. Since the yard was fenced, her shoes should still be in one piece. Or at least that’s what she told herself.

Barefoot, she went down the stairs but didn’t find Master Michael anywhere. The patio door was open, so she went outside and saw him sitting in the same chair he’d occupied earlier.

“Steaks are marinating,” he told her. “I poured you a glass of wine.”

She sat and accepted the glass.

“I hope red’s okay with you,” he said. “If not, there’s a Chardonnay in the refrigerator.”

She had a feeling this wasn’t going to be like drinking the fermented fruit juice she had with her friends. “It’s fine. Thank you…”

He looked at her expectantly.

She understood. He expected her to use formalities, even if they were not in the bedroom. That chafed, but at least he was clear in his expectations. “Thank you, Sir.”

 She took a sip and found it to be rich and full-bodied, definitely not like the wines that came out of a jug. Probably it was an acquired taste. At least she wouldn’t be tempted to have a second glass, even if he offered one, something she doubted he would.

“Is it acceptable?”

“I bet the bottle has a cork, even.”

He frowned, as if he had no idea whether or not she was joking.

“I like it. I think.”

“I can get you something else,” he said, standing.

“No, Sir. Really. I was teasing.” She leaned over to grab the shoe she saw sticking out from under her chair. But she didn’t see the match. “Where’s my other shoe?”

“Crap.” He helped her look before giving up and glancing towards the barn. “The gate was open when I came out. Were they expensive?”

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