“So do you plan to touch me this weekend or not?” I blurted out.
His finger stopped and his eyes narrowed. “Ask me the question in a more respectful manner, Abigail. Just because this is your table doesn’t mean you can talk to me any way you choose.”
My face heated.
He waited.
I dropped my head. “Will you touch me this weekend, Master?”
“Look at me.”
I did. His green eyes were blazing. “I plan to do more than touch you,” he said slowly. “I plan to f**k you. Hard and repeatedly.”
His words sent an electric shock from my head to the aching spot between my legs. There was a reason he was a master—he could do more with a few simple words than most men could do with their entire body.
He pushed back from the table. “Let’s get started, shall we? I want you n**ed and on my bed in fifteen minutes.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
I was starting to see how Nathaniel worked. How he could turn me on with just a look. Make me long for his touch with a simple word or phrase.
Like now, as I waited on his bed. Driving me mad and he wasn’t even in the room. Dinner had been one long, drawn-out foreplay session. Watching him eat pasta, the way his fingers worked the wineglass. I was strung tight, ready, and nearly begging for him.
He hadn’t even touched me.
He walked into the room with slow, purposeful steps. The candlelight illuminated his bare chest and made his eyes look darker. Silently, he went to the foot of the bed and lifted a shackle.
My rational self whispered that I should be afraid. I should be shouting ‘turpentine’ at the top of my lungs. I should get out of the house and away from the man who had way too much control over my body and me.
Instead, I watched in suppressed excitement as he shackled me spread-eagle to the bed.
He spoke to me in that soft, seductive voice of his. “I wasn’t going to do this tonight, but I can see you still don’t understand completely. You are mine and you are to do and behave as I tell you. The next time you speak disrespectfully to me, I will spank you. Nod if you understand.”
I nodded and tried not to show how much the idea turned me on.
“My last submissive could make me cl**ax three times a night,” he said, and I wondered briefly if he was talking about the blonde. “I want to try for four.”
Four? Was that even possible?
From his pocket he drew out a black scarf. “And I want you totally at my mercy.”
I took a deep breath. I could do this. I wanted this. I stared into his dark green eyes and then he put the scarf in place and I couldn’t see anything.
I heard the slow metallic sound of a zipper and I knew he was taking his pants off. He was as n**ed as I was now. My heart raced.
Two large hands started at my shoulders and ran gently down my sides. He moved past my br**sts without touching them and circled my bellybutton. One finger dipped lower and skimmed my entrance. I groaned.
“How long has it been, Abigail?” he asked. “Answer me.”
The last time I’d had sex? “Three years.”
I hoped he wouldn’t ask me any questions about why. We were both finally n**ed and on his bed—I didn’t want to think about how none of my past boyfriends could satisfy me.
His finger dipped in again. I felt the bed shift as he leaned closer to me. “You’re not ready yet. You need to be ready, or else I won’t be able to ride you as hard as I want.”
I felt him pull back and then his mouth was at my neck, slowly kissing his way lower until he was at my breast. He circled his tongue around my nipple, blowing gently. Then his mouth closed over it and he sucked, rolling his tongue around the tip. I gasped when he scraped me with his teeth.
He moved to the other side, starting gently, but gradually increasing his force until it became too much. I lifted my chest toward him without shame. If he kept up, I’d cl**ax from his mouth alone. He continued his assault on my ni**les while dipping a hand lower. Roughly his fingers pressed against me, working their way down my body to where my legs were spread, open and waiting for him. His fingers rubbed harshly and I pushed against him, needing friction, needing something.
His fingers and mouth left, and I groaned as the cool air rushed in against my body. The bed shifted again and I felt him straddle me. His hard, thick length touched the valley between my br**sts.
He thrust against me. “Do you think you’re ready, Abigail? Because I’m tired of waiting. Are you ready?” He thrust again. “Answer me!”
“Yes, Master. Please. Yes.”
He lifted his h*ps and I felt his tip at my mouth. “Kiss my cock. Kiss it before it f**ks you.”
I pressed my closed lips against him and that’s all I meant to do. Really. But I felt a drop of liquid at his tip and I couldn’t help it—I stuck my tongue out and licked it off.
Nathaniel drew in a sharp breath through his teeth and lightly slapped my cheek. “I didn’t tell you to do that.”
Some part of me rejoiced that I’d made a slight crack in his carefully controlled demeanor, but then he moved down my body and lifted my h*ps with one hand and I didn’t care about anything except what he was about to do. Every nerve ending I had tingled.
Slowly, he pressed into me and I groaned.
Yes!
He pushed more and I was stretched and filled. More than I’d ever been. He moved slowly, inching his way inside, until it got uncomfortable.
He wasn’t going to fit.
“Damn,” he said.
I sensed him move up. He took my h*ps in both hands and rocked back and forth, working his way in deeper.
“Move with me.”
I lifted my h*ps and felt him slide in another inch. We both moaned. He gave a rough push and thrust in completely.
Beneath the blindfold, my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
He pulled out a bit and slid back in. Testing. Teasing. But I was finished with teasing. I needed more. I lifted my h*ps when he pushed in again.
“You think you’re ready?” he asked. Before I could answer, he pulled almost all the way out, leaving me empty and wanting. He took a deep breath and slammed back into me, pulling out immediately.
I pulled against the restraints, frustrated, when he didn’t return. And then he did. Again and again and again. Pushing me deeper into the bed with each thrust. I answered each one by lifting my h*ps to get more of him inside, wanting him even deeper. Wanting it even harder.
I felt my cl**ax building with each slam of his body into mine. He moved above me, his hands holding my h*ps in an iron grasp.“Come when you want,” he panted, thrusting again, and I came apart in a million pieces.
He thrust deeper inside and held still, muscles shaking as he released into me. A few more quick thrusts and I came again.
Slowly, his breathing returned to normal.
Slowly, I came back to earth.
Hungry hands moved up my body. He pushed my hair aside and whispered in my ear.
“One.”
He unbound my legs for our second time, though he left the blindfold on. He said he could go even deeper with my legs wrapped around him, and even though I knew he had lots more experience than I did, I wanted to tell him going deeper was physically impossible.
Good thing I kept that to myself, because when he entered me a second time and wrapped my legs around his waist, he did go deeper. He hit spots I didn’t even know I had.
I was breathless when he moved off the bed. He rustled beside me. I still couldn’t see anything, but I turned my head in his direction.
He unbound my arms and took off the scarf. “You’ll sleep in my room tonight, Abigail. I’ll take you again at some point during the night and I don’t want to be troubled with walking down the hall.” He waved at the floor. “I made you a pallet.”
Was he insane? He wanted me to sleep on the floor? I cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Do you have a problem with my order?”
I shook my head and, minutes later, fell asleep in between the cool sheets he’d laid out for me beside his bed.
“Wake up, Abigail.”
It could have been hours or minutes later. I wasn’t sure. It was still dark—only one candle lit the room.
“Hands and knees on the bed. Quickly.”
I scurried on top of the bed, still half-asleep, and positioned myself.
“Lean on your elbows.”
I dropped to my elbows.
Two strong hands rubbed my backside and pushed my legs further apart. “You were tight the other way, but you’ll be even tighter like this.”
Damn him and his sensual mouth. I was wide awake within seconds.
His hands moved to my back, up to my shoulders and around my chest to roll my nipples. He gave each one a hard tug. His hands traveled back down to the spot where I pulsed for him and he dipped a finger in lightly. The finger traveled to my backside and ran around my smaller hole.
I gasped.
He pushed against it. “Has anyone ever taken you here before?”
He knew the answer. It was on my checklist. I shook my head anyway, though, unable to speak. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.
“I will,” he promised.
Every muscle I had tensed.
“Soon,” he said, dropping his finger, and I let out a shaky breath. Soon, maybe, but not immediately.
He guided himself to where I was wet and ready. His hands made their way to my head and he wrapped my hair around his wrists. His length pushed inside me as he pulled back on my hair. The delicious feel of him filling me was too much, paired with the sharp tug on my head. I let out a sigh of pleasure.
He pulled out and slammed back inside with a hard thrust of his h*ps and a quick jerk of my hair. Over and over, and he was right, I was tighter. I felt every inch of him. Every thrust forced him deeper inside and pushed my knees into the mattress. I grabbed on to the sheets and rocked my h*ps up and back to meet him. He groaned.
The familiar tingle of impending release built up and my body screamed with the intensity of it. Or it might have been me. I couldn’t tell. Didn’t care.
Nathaniel gave one last thrust and I yelled with the force of my cl**ax. He quickly followed, releasing into me with a grunt.
I fell on top of the bed, panting. I might have dozed.
I came fully awake when he flipped me over and pushed his h*ps in my face. “Round four, Abigail.”
He was already half-hard. It shouldn’t have been possible. Damn. What time was it? I turned my head to see if there was a clock beside the bed.
“Look at me.” He turned my head back to his cock.
“I’m your concern right now. Me and what I tell you. And right now I want you to serve me with your mouth.”
I opened my mouth, showing my willingness. And later, when he’d released into me for the fourth time and lay on top of me gasping, I smiled.
I knew I’d served him well.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I woke to the feel of sunlight on my skin and blinked a few times in confusion. Where was I? I glanced to my right and saw the massive bed above me. Right. On the floor. By Nathaniel’s bed.
I stretched my legs and groaned. I ached in places I didn’t know I had and a few I’d long ago forgotten. I tentatively got to my feet and took a few steps. I’d give my right arm and part of my left for a bathtub, but it looked as though I’d have to make do with a hot shower.
After a long, thorough shower, I hobbled into the kitchen. Nathaniel sat at the table, my table, glued to his phone, texting or emailing, I supposed. He looked perfectly fine.
Biology totally screwed women.
Literally.
“Rough night?” he asked, not even bothering to look at me.
What the hell, he was at my table, I could speak honestly. “You could say that again.”
“Rough night?” he asked again, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
I poured my coffee and stared at him.
He was teasing me. I could barely walk, my back ached from sleeping on the damn floor, it was all his fault, and he was teasing me?