Pleasure and Danger (2 page)

“Good girl, you’re learning, and yes, since you asked so nicely you may masturbate while you give me head, but as long as it doesn’t disturb your rhythm.”

“It won’t, Sir, I promise.”

He frowned.

“What?” I asked.

“I’ve just given you permission to have an orgasm, there is something you must say.”

Was there? Shit. I couldn’t think. I racked my brains and it came to me. “Thank you, Sir, thank you for allowing me to come.”

He nodded, seriously, then pushed me down the bed, spreading his legs as I went so I could kneel between them. He kept hold of my hair, effectively using that to position me.

Excitement swirled up inside me, from my clit to the top of my head. My mouth was watering. My pussy hammering.

“Open up,” he said, tensing his abs as he stared down at me. “Open up and take me.”

I did as he’d asked, stretching my jaw wide and not removing my attention from his eyes.

He pushed my head closer to his cock, slowly, agonizingly slowly. I stuck out my tongue, waiting to welcome his glans.

“Ah, yeah, dirty slut,” he groaned, touching the tip of his cock to my bottom lip. “Give me a lick, get your first taste of your Master.”

I didn’t need asking twice. His slit was hot and wet, glossy with a first dot of pre-cum that I scooped up to let the salty, thick taste of him spread over my tongue.

“Open,” he said again, sharper this time. “Now.”

I did as he’d instructed then shot my hand to my pussy.

Fiddling to set up a good pressure on my clit, I was aware of him locking his knees around my ribs, holding me tight within the cradle of his legs.

“You’re going to take me all, okay, and I’m going to fuck your mouth the way I’d fuck my own hand. I don’t wank like a fairy, you know. I like it hard, firm, rough, so if you hate it you must slap my stomach three times, okay?”

I nodded but I knew I wouldn’t have to slap him. The idea of Gabriel fucking my mouth with the same furious determination he fisted himself to completion was a complete turn on. I knew I could cope with it. I could handle whatever he gave me.

“Deep breath,” he said, his abs like a row of cobbles now. He was so tense holding himself at such a strained, half abdominal-crunch angle.

I pulled in air through my wide mouth and, as my lungs expanded, he pushed me onto his cock. The rigid shaft smoothed over my tongue, the soft glans hit the back of my throat and his pubic hair touched my chin.

Hurriedly I shunted three fingers into my pussy and caught my clit with the hard swell of my palm. He tasted divine and his cock was the perfect shape for my mouth.

He pulled my head back, still using the firm grip he had on my bunched-up hair. Mouth empty, I stared up at him. His eyes were wide, as if he were taking in everything he was seeing and storing it in some special place.

I was certainly feeling a nice heat building in my special place.

“Again,” he said, nostrils flaring. “Fucking hell, again.”

He shifted me onto his cock once more, deeper this time, and I had to battle with my gag reflex, and shut my eyes tight to cope.

“Ah, yeah, you love it, submitting to me, don’t you?”

I couldn’t answer. But yes, I did love it—but that didn’t make me his sub.

“Get yourself off, quickly, we have jobs to do,” he said, rushing to pull me almost off his cock then sliding me back down it.

I groaned in pleasure, climbing the first steps to an orgasm. It wouldn’t take me long. Being held so firmly by Gabriel, and having given up my control over what we did and how we did it, was making me light. I felt as though I had not a care in the world and satisfaction, his and mine, was all that mattered.

“Oh, yeah, ripple your tongue around my cock. Like that, yeah, like that… Jesus, sub, you’ve got the knack. Damn, you’re so good at that…and…and you’re taking it, doing it…oh, fuck…”

It thrilled me to please him. I increased the tension of my tongue and accepted each thrust of his cock into my mouth. I timed the pounding of my pussy to his pistoning movements of my head. I was getting dizzy, high on life, high on belonging to Gabriel so utterly.

“Fuck it, I’m coming, sub. Swallow me, swallow me and come too…ah, yeah…I order you to come, now.”

The pressure was explosive in my pelvis, and as the first slew of cum hit the back of my throat I allowed ecstasy to burst free.

I hit a wild new level of sensation, black and white, cold and hot. I knew I didn’t have enough air in my body but that seemed to just make it all the more intense. My scalp was on fire with pain, my mouth owned and possessed, and my pussy throbbing through a blissful release.

Suddenly Gabriel pulled out.

I dragged in oxygen and watched as his slit stretched and another two eruptions of cum were released.

Quickly, with my free hand I clutched his cock and spread the cum over it like warm lube.

“Good girl,” he panted, “good girl. That’s it, touch me.”

The ringing in my ears quieted and I ceased the assault on my pussy, having hammered through my orgasm. It was fading now, becoming a memory.

Suddenly he released my hair, hooked beneath my arms and slid me up his body.

He cupped my arse and kissed me hungrily.

I fed him his own flavor, tangling my tongue with his, and pushed my hands through his hair.

“Ah yeah, you taste of me,” he said breathlessly. “Exactly how a sub should taste, of their Master.”

I was going to argue, reply with a snipe about not being a sub. But actually, if being Gabriel’s sub made me feel as wonderful as I did at this moment, then why the fuck was I arguing?

He twitched his eyebrows, as though surprised there’d been no comeback. “You did well,” he said then pulled in a deep breath. “You pleased me and you looked seriously hot down there, between my legs, frigging yourself off and your mouth all wide and eager for me.”

“You looked hot, too, all serious about satisfaction and…”

Should I say it?

“And what?” He frowned.

“Dominant.” It was the best word to describe the sullen, focused look on his face as he’d stared at me taking his cock into his mouth. It was the expression of a man who was taking exactly what he wanted, what he was due, what was his.

Me.

“Ah, you’re seeing it.” He licked his bottom lip.

“Seeing what?”

“Seeing what’s inside you.”

“And what’s that?”

He flipped me over, trapping me between his body and the bed. My breath huffed out as he pressed his chest down on mine.

“That you like to be controlled. Not just when it comes to satisfying the pain-whore in you, but also when it comes to satisfying the sexual woman in you. You like not having to think about anything and just feel.”

I pondered on his words for a moment. One thing was certain, I couldn’t deny the thrill I’d gotten from letting Gabriel fuck my mouth exactly how he’d wanted to. “Perhaps I do, for some things.”

“I think you do for more than you know, and what’s more, soon you’ll see the truth.”

“I will?”

“Yeah, because dirty sluts that like to be screwed in back alleys get exactly what their Master wants from them.”

He could have anything I had to give as far as I was concerned. He was rapidly wheedling his way into my soul.

I hooked my legs over the backs of his and kissed him again.

In a swift movement that yanked my hip, he pulled my left leg up high, almost to his shoulder, then swept his hand over my buttock to my pussy.

“Oh… Sir!” I gasped onto his lips when he slid his fingers through my slit. Was I going to get more? I wouldn’t complain. I could always handle more.

“And,” he said. “Since I’ve fucked your pussy and your mouth, maybe there is something else I want. And if you are really mine, you will give it to me.” He slipped his finger lower, until it rested over my anus. “And it will hurt, sub, but of course, in the best possible way.”

Chapter Two

I didn’t get more. Gabriel insisted we’d had enough, and if we were going to go for it in the alley, we’d be better off abstaining until then. Although I could have done with staying in his bed all day, exploring his body as he explored mine, I also saw the sense in what he’d said. Anticipation would be high, growing taller by the minute as our alley encounter drew closer. That would mean I’d get an earth-shattering orgasm as opposed to a pleasing mind-blower.

Showered and dressed in my new white knickers and yesterday’s tarty clothes—sans makeup, hair in disarray—I stood in the town center beside the clock that resembled a grandfather, albeit made of stone instead of shiny mahogany. The hands pointed to eleven and two, and our appointed meeting was destined for eleven-thirty. I had to find something to do to make the minutes tick by faster.

I drew my jacket fronts together then zipped them up, the wind rather ripe this morning and intent on scaring any lingering cobwebs away. I felt refreshed, invigorated and more than ready to play out my third fantasy. It was like all my birthdays and Christmases had come along at once, each present more spectacular than the last. At this rate I’d have to think up some new scenarios, and tonight would be the perfect opportunity before I drifted off to sleep.

But would I be in my bed or his?

Receiving more than one or two glances from passers-by, all staring at me as though I were the filthiest woman on the planet, I smiled back at them with the saucy knowledge that they had no clue what I was about to experience. And what I’d just been thinking about.

There they were, struggling along with their heavy shopping bags, wearing clean, pressed clothes and proper shoes, and probably smelling of roses. The term ‘Their shit don’t stink!’ came to mind, and I knew that many of these people would turn their noses up at my thoughts. No doubt they’d proclaim me to be a dirty, nasty little whore who lived for nothing but sex when there were other, more important things going on in the world. I wasn’t unaware of what was on the news, just that I preferred to spend my life filling it with goodness—the kind of goodness that had me coming hard and fast.

Each to their own.

What a stark contrast we made while I stood there in my slutty outfit—Gabriel had been insistent about that—knowing within half an hour I’d be being getting fucked against a grimy, mildew-ridden wall. What did these women have to look forward to? I hoped for their sakes it was more than going home to put their shopping away then doing the housework. Had any of them tapped into their desires or had they hidden them away? Did they reserve sex for high days and holidays?

I couldn’t imagine a life like that, not now that I’d found Gabriel.

I moved away from the clock and headed toward the jewelry shop. I wasn’t going there to browse the rings—I didn’t want marriage or anything like that—not yet anyway—but I’d grown fond of those bracelets that were all the rage, the ones with tiny trinkets hanging off them. Only I didn’t think the kind of trinkets I’d want were readily available. A whip, a flogger, Gabriel’s mean little stick, a mini cage and a depiction of a filthy alley. And if they were, wouldn’t that just set up a whole new level of conversation at work beside the coffeemaker in the kitchen?

“What on earth is
that
, Isabella?”
That would be Patty, the elderly receptionist.

“What?”
That would be me, feigning nonchalance while knowing exactly what had been referred to—and with horror, I’d bet.

“Is that a…a whip on there?”
And that would be Bernice, the middle-aged accountant who was shocked by a door closing more loudly than usual, let alone seeing a silver whip dangling from a bracelet. She’d have her hand slapped to her chest, her mouth hanging open and a violent red flush to her cheeks.

I smiled at the idea of freaking my work colleagues out then explaining that I liked a goodly dose of pain mixed in with my pleasure. That I’d met a man who seemed to want everything I did and knew how to administer it, how to get me off. How often did people meet their absolute perfect partner? How many people were truly lucky to find everything they’d dreamed of? How many people
hadn’t
found it?

At the jewelry shop window, I stared at rings and watches that didn’t particularly attract. My attention was drawn to the necklaces, except they weren’t quite what I’d wear either. The chains were too dainty, with heart pendants or keys—although the latter would be significant for me. Like I held the key to what I wanted, no one else.

That brought me up short. Wasn’t that way of thinking something a sub would entertain? Subs were the real ones in control, or so I’d heard. And where
had
I heard that? I must have read it somewhere—and why would I have been reading something like that if I wasn’t what Gabriel had said I was?

A sub deep inside.

I frowned, not wanting to go down that road, yet at the same time it beckoned, as though I’d been traveling through the desert all this time and at last there was an oasis at the end of a long road, in the form of Gabriel. He’d slake my thirst and keep me as wet as I wanted to be. Or shaded from others under cooling—or stinging—palms, keeping me safe and feeling wanted, attending to my every need.

That’s what he’d said he was prepared to give, wasn’t it?

The only thing left was for me to either accept what he’d offered or reject it. Already I couldn’t imagine not having his hands on me, not hearing his commands, not having him giving me everything I’d ever wished for. I’d become addicted to him long before the moment he’d swept my hair from my face at the train station. Had it been just three days? Really? Had I been fucked in ways I’d never imagined I would be, all in such a short space of time?

I wouldn’t be rejecting his offer, and if it meant learning how to be a sub, I’d do it. Just to be with him—and, I lightly acknowledged, because it
was
deep inside me.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

I’d need to learn so much, but this morning was a lesson I’d caught on to very quickly. Lose the belligerence. Express my needs in a way that showed I was grateful, not expectant.

I could do that.