Take the Heat

But still she hadn’t done it—and it took her seven months to be able to admit the reason why.

3. You will not protest, save crying out or screaming—unless you’ve decided not to honor your obligation.

The thick steel rings still made her nipples tingle as she knelt in the cool, quiet bedroom. She hadn’t even cried out when they’d been done, quiet tears wetting the hair at her temples. He’d told her to have her nipples pierced, and she’d obeyed. Simple as that.

Her life had become his rules, his demands, his lusts. And her job was to submit herself to all of them.

His bedroom door opened, then closed, the air currents moving over her naked body. Her gaze fixated on the pattern of the carpet, not daring to meet his eyes until he gave her leave to do so. The gleaming black of his Guccis stopped before her. He tested her hard nipples, pinching, elongating them, lifting the rings on his fingertips a moment, his pleased murmur making her blush. Then he unlocked her cuffs, and his hand tapped her thigh.

“Up on the bed. Tits on the mattress, ass up.”

Scrambling to obey, she rested her cheek on her arms, the cold metal of her nipple rings pressed against her flesh. His thick cock slid into her, and she sighed as his hands took firm hold of her hips.

“I thought about this cunt at the shareholders’ meeting today. Thought of you waiting here for me, on your knees. Obedient.” His palm slapped her ass hard, and she hissed with the sting. “Squeeze. That’s a girl.”

He took up a hard, punishing thrusting. Her aching nipples rasped against the comforter. He gathered up her arms, holding her wrists in his hand at her back, using them as leverage to thrust yet deeper, the hard head battering her cervix with a confusing pleasure/pain on each strong plunge. She moaned as he slapped her bottom once more, the heat flaring, her pussy clenching in sympathy around the mercilessly thrusting cock.

“Don’t come; don’t you dare,” he rumbled behind her, his big hand pinning her to the mattress. With a groan he bucked against her, the springs of the mattress whispering in time with the heavy thrusts. Pressing close, he held himself deep, Alyson gasping, the hot seed blooming within her. Her clit throbbed, as bereft of his touch as the impossibly hard points of her nipples.

Her hips rotated against him, a slight movement, but one she knew he prohibited. A hard slap to her ass followed, his voice a warning growl. She murmured disappointment as he pulled himself from her.

“On your back, girl. Up to the headboard, arms back.”

His strong arms helped slide her up, locking her wrists in the familiar leather cuffs, the blindfold shutting out all light as he cinched it tight behind her head. His hands urged her legs apart.

“Open.” He slapped her thigh, the bright flash of pain making her squeak. “Come on, farther. That’s good.”

The muscles of her inner thighs ached, stretched wide, her shaved, splayed pussy dripping with his semen, embarrassingly wet, the scent of sex heavy in the air. With her sight denied her, she was at once eager and fearful of what he had planned for her next.

The rough pad of his thumb slicked back the hood of her clit, the calloused digit working it almost painfully as she panted.

“Look at this poor little pussy, come dripping from it,” he said, his tone rich with pleasure. Her sex was stroked, the outer labia pinched and massaged between knowing fingertips. Then a broad, wet tongue rasped over her exposed clit, and she arched up with a harsh intake of breath, her thighs rigid.

“Oh God, please…”

“Be still. If you’re good, you might get what you need.”

An orgasm? My freedom? Your affection?

Fingers slid inside her wetness, curling, making her groan. He’d never touched her like this before, yet he knew exactly where, how to touch her. The pleasure built as he stroked her with one, then two fingers, occasionally licking her hard, throbbing clit with the rasp of his tongue.

“You’re going to come for me, girl. I want to see you squirt all over my fingers.” The mattress dipped to one side, his forearm against her rib cage. His lips took hers then, at first softly tasting, exploring, then hard, his tongue driving deep, claiming. “So helpless, girl. Mine.” His lips brushed against her cheek, breath warm on her skin. “Are you mine, my little thief?”

The words were on her tongue, confusion, fear, and a new unsettling elation warring within her. What did it mean that she wanted him to take her, that she wanted to feel those soft possessive lips upon hers once more? To kiss him forever, until she could forget what she’d done, could accept what he’d done, what had led them to this day.

“I need…” This was more than she could cope with, these emotions welling up within her, the power of them so unexpected, so shattering. This was much more than survival, than penance, than duty, more even than lust.

His fingers slipped inside her once more, his thumb circling her clit as he worked that spot within her until she moaned.

“Come for me, girl. Show me. You’ve got no choice.” His lips sucked her clit into his mouth, her moans vibrating through her whole body as she arched up. Fingers worked her harder, her hips writhing as he thrust within her drenched sex, the coppery smell of his semen mixing with the thick scent of her own arousal.

“Oh fuck.”

“That’s it. Be a good girl. Surrender to it. Surrender to me.”

Another devastating curl of his fingers and she was panting, pulling at the tight bonds holding her wrists, her heels beating upon the mattress.

“Please, sir! Please…”