“That’s my good girl...”
He had to stop. Any more, and he’d flood her throat with his come. Reluctantly, he removed his sex from her mouth and tucked himself back inside his trousers. Sabra sounded breathless, her head bent to the ottoman, but her hips still rolled in waves. She jolted when he stroked his hands over her marked flesh. Her juices were streaming over her thighs. Now she was ready to be fucked. He quickly stripped himself of his clothing and, gripping her hips, he slowly grazed the length of his cock between her pussy lips, nudging her clit. The trembling that rained over her sweet body warned him she was close. Very close.
“Tristan, I’m going to...”
He gently circled her neck with his hand, forcing her into an arched position. Leaning over her, her soft bottom pressed hard against his groin, he kissed her. She was delicious.
“Now you’re ready,” he murmured. With a hand gripping his girth, he pushed into her. Nothing could have prepared him for the velvet sensation of her pussy on his cock. The way she sucked him into her, the cradle of her bottom as she pushed back on him for more.
“Oh, thank you,” she groaned. “Oh, that feels so good. Thank you.”
He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled, sending his cock even deeper into her creamy wetness. Before he’d even begun a smooth rhythm, Sabra began to wail and shudder, her pussy clamping down on him. He yanked on her hair.
“Did you come?” he demanded quietly. “Without my permission?”
Gasping from her climax, she breathed her apology. “I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry, Tristan.” He released her and withdrew his cock. It bobbed against his stomach, leaving a shiny trail on his skin. “That’s not good enough, Sabra.”
He untied her from the ottoman and her limbs, weakened from the pressure of staying upright, collapsed under her. “Up,” he commanded. Without giving her a minute to obey, he carried her to the harness rigged to the door. He secured her hands and adjusted the length so her toes brushed the carpet.
Cupping her breasts, he pressed on her taut nipples. “You ask before.”
“Yes, I’m sorry.”
He lightly touched his mouth to her ear. “You earn what I give to you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Tristan.”
She sounded far too satisfied. Time to change that. He released her and selected a silicone vibrator, pressing it to her swollen clit. She tried to turn away from him, crying out that she couldn’t.
“Yes, you can.” He parted her thighs and thrust fully into her again. It’d be easy for her now, while she was thinking that she couldn’t possibly come again, she’d feel another orgasm building. “Tell me why I shouldn’t fuck your ass with this vibrator.”
“Only if you don’t want to,” she moaned.
He dropped the vibrator to the floor and pulled her legs over his shoulders. “Good girl.”
Her words freed him and he let loose, giving into the overwhelming instinct to fuck her rawly. She took every inch of him, welcoming his cock within her, arching her hips and straining against the harness.
“May I come, please?”
He slowed his thrusts briefly. “Ask better.”
“Please, Tristan. Please let me come now. I’ll do anything, just please.”
Withdrawing until her pussy gripped only the tip of his cock, he paused. She wriggled against him, searching for the release she was now clearly desperate for. “I’m going to come inside you. And you’re going to take all of it. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Yes, Tristan.”
His name on her lips was the last barrier. Pressing hard, he filled her with his cock and pounded her into the door. He felt her legs tightening around his neck as her juices trailed over his cock and down his thighs. Just as before, she started to shake, her pussy tightening irresistibly on him. Eagerly, he spurted deeply into her, his arse clenching as his body drained.
“Jesus, Sabra,” he swore against her neck.
She babbled, not making any sense. Breathing heavily, he pulled out and eased her legs from his shoulders. He then pressed the lips of her pussy close, to keep his seed inside her. Shuddering against his touch there, she sank against the harness. Swiftly, he unhooked her and swung her into his arms. He laid her carefully on the bed, on her front. “Wait here. I’m going to get some things for your back and bottom.”
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Thank you.”
That smile, he thought as he laid a kiss on her red mouth, was now the whip on his heart. Lauren had warned him how easy it would be to fall for Sabra’s charm. He hadn’t believed her. Even now, he couldn’t care less. He had the perfect sub. The perfect subject and submissive. All previous rules were out the window now. And he felt it, when she gave in to him so beautifully, that this was everything to both of them. Carefully, he brushed her hair from her face and kissed her lips once more. “I’ll be right back.”
“You shouldn’t let me out of your sight.”
He laughed. “You couldn’t walk right now if you tried.”
“Would you let me?”
He stroked her cheek. “No.”
Sabra powdered the tops of her thighs and mindlessly called, “Come in,” to the person knocking at the door of her stage room.
A man stood by the door with a large bunch of flowers. Hell, just what she needed. A hay fever attack before a performance.
“Hello there. I was speaking to Lauren...”
Sabra rolled her eyes. “That woman needs to stop pimping me out. Look, I have a master.”
He frowned. “You’re not collared.”
She removed a long, thin, gold chain from around her neck. The necklace bore ten gold collars. One for each month she and Tristan had danced around each other. “There we are.”
“That’s a lot of collars. Sure there’s not room for one more?”
“No,” Tristan said darkly. “Out.” The man opened his mouth to speak again, but Tristan lost his temper. “Out.”
The man shuffled out in disappointment. Sabra started to laugh. “That was mean.”
“You are not for sharing. Come here.”
Obediently, she walked over to him and he locked the door behind the disappointed ‘fan’. “Pull your panties down a little.”
This little ritual before her shows was the highlight of her performance. She felt more sensual, more prepared. Tristan removed his hard cock from his trousers and gently rubbed the tip over her clit. Sabra gasped, almost removing her hands to touch him.
“No, keep your hands on your panties. What will you do when you finish?”
Her head fell back as a delicious lightness lifted her body in pleasure. “Spread for you.”
“Good girl.” He removed his cock and placed her dearest favour out of reach. She adjusted her panties and tugged on elbow-length lace gloves. He circled her waist with an arm and touched her lips with his own. “Enjoy the show. I have a present waiting for you when you’re finished.”
“I know. I just felt it.”
Sabra two years ago would have huffed and puffed about getting her goods earlier. Tristan’s Sabra enjoyed the delicious
frisson
of waiting for what her Dom would give to her. She couldn’t have found a more perfect man if she’d tried. One who not only respected her need to strip but her desire for the sharp sting of a whip. Hell, the only way he could possibly be more perfect was if he got Lauren off her back by marrying her.
He shook his head and placed a small, black velvet box on her dresser. “When you’re finished.”
Tristan led her out of the dressing room, but Sabra’s gaze was firmly on that box.
A rattan cane isn’t going to fit in there...