Billionaires in Paris - Page 22

Yes, until now.

It helps that my fears and worries have been eradicated, or at least long enough for me to completely give in to my urges. The ones that drive me to lavish Ian with the talents I was born with and the skills I’ve accumulated over the years. There are little differences between giving head as a Domme and as a sub. As a Domme, you always have them on edge. You are controlling their reward, their body’s reactions to how you fuck them with your throat. As a sub, you also have a lot of control. How much do you hold back? How far do you go? Do you go all the way if he hasn’t said? Do you change it? No matter what, you want him to be happy and think This woman really knows how to make me feel good.

Some would look at me and say I am debasing myself. Acting like sucking his cock is the only important thing in the world. Fuck off. Right now, it is the most important thing in the world. He’s sharing a part of himself that he doesn’t give to just anyone. My Dom trusts me to do as he says and to enjoy every minute of it. If I don’t, I find a way to tell him, and in return, I trust that he will respect what I’ve told him.

Guess what. I’m enjoying every minute of it! The feel of his hard cock in my mouth, slipping in and out of my throat the longer I relax my gag. The scent of his masculinity as he becomes more aroused and reaches the edge of climax. The fantastically pornographic sounds of what’s happening between us… not to mention the sounds of my whimpers and the groans of satisfaction falling upon my ears. The sight of him as we make eye contact, mine calling for his attention and his bestowing praise, because I don’t need him to use words. And the taste! That’s the most intoxicating of all. It doesn’t matter how good he feels in my mouth or how erotic his groans are. They mean nothing without the taste overcoming my mouth. I can taste skin, sweat, salt, and the tang of precum dripping on my tongue. It’s all happening so fast that I instinctively prepare to have him come in my throat.

I want him to. I’m working his cock as if my only goal is to get him grab my head and roar.

He does grab my head. It’s impossible to look at him now. It’s impossible to have any control. I’ve given it up. All I can control is my breathing as he slams his cock into my mouth, fucking me with thrusts that are as carefully manipulated as they are harried. He wants to completely let go, but he can’t – otherwise, he might hurt me. The best my Dom can do is hold me still and fuck me as if that’s truly the only thing I exist for.

Like he said, I have no other worries or distractions. This is it. This moment is as much my release as it is his.

Ian abandons me. With a frustrated grunt he pushes me down on the bed. “You almost made me come,” he admonishes. Was I not supposed to? He never said one way or the other. “I’d rather save myself for better things.”

I know he means me. Dear heaven do I know he means me!

He goes to his suitcase. Even though we’re here for almost a week, neither of us are the type to unpack in a hotel room. Doesn’t matter. As I roll over on the bed to watch him go through his things, I can already picture what he’s up to. It’s the same thing that happens when we play out a scene in his condo. When he’s ready to totally control me, he goes to the top drawer in his bureau and peruses.

He picks a solid black tie and a royal purple one. I’m pretty sure I bought the purple one for him some months ago. Know what I also bought for him? The sandalwood cologne he’s wearing. Turns me on every time I get a whiff.

I think he’s going to use those to tie me up, but after they land on the bed behind him, Ian pulls up a stack of shirts in his suitcase and grabs something the TSA would’ve had a field day with had we not flown on a private jet and bypassed that bullshit.

The silky ropes coil on top of me. Ian places a pair of scissors on the nightstand. His furrowed brows are so determined to get him to the next phase of our scene that I want to laugh.

I don’t, though. I pull a rope off me and finger how soft it is. Perfect condition. We’ve used them before, I swear. How could they still be in such great condition, unless he’s buying new ones all the time?

“Lie down.”

He takes his time binding me to the headboard. The softness and elasticity of these ropes allow a lot of movement while still immobilizing me. Once I’m completely at his whim, I shudder, garnering a smile out of his otherwise stoic face.

“You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” His knee parts my legs. Ian hovers above me, that sandalwood cologne stronger than the taste of his cock I still have in my mouth. “Do you want to look into my eyes as we make love?”

Tags: Cynthia Dane Billionaire Romance
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