Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4)

Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4) Page 14

“But I can still… I have lubricant, and anything you want…” He didn"t move. “So if I use you like a whore, all for my own benefit, that"s all right?”

“I didn"t mean it that way.” Stung, she tried to pull her hands back, but of course his grip was immovable.

“I think it"s time for you to stop talking.” A gentle note re-entered his voice, unexpected, as was the hand that cupped the back of her head, fingers diving into her hair as he changed the angle of his mouth. Now he laid his lips over one eye, which closed at his approach. She felt his tender caress there, a small touch of his tongue at the corner, absorbing her tear. Then he did it to the other side. “Keep your eyes closed and I want you to go back to your breathing, only more in-depth this time. Through the nose for three seconds, hold three seconds, out through the mouth for three seconds. Focus only on that, and I command everything else. Do it, Rachel.” Even though the idea of anything calming her down at this point seemed incredible, she knew it couldn"t do her any harm. And maybe it would block the flood of all those other distressing thoughts his far-too-sharp observation had brought surging forth. She drew in the first breath, leaving her eyes closed.

When he drew his touch away, she heard the briefcase opening. “Keep them closed and keep breathing. Three, two, one…” He counted it off slow, as she did during class.

He kept counting, so she focused, following him, wondering what he was doing.

At the beginning of her classes, she used pranayama, the yoga breathing exercises, to still other external forces. To help her students leave behind their worries, focus only on their practice and make the most of it. She knew he was likely using it for the same reason here, helping her set her fears aside to experience this. But as she kept breathing, she found he had other equally powerful ways of turning her attention only to what was happening in the here and now.

Putting a knee on the bed, he slid his arms under her knees, her back. He turned her, so her head was partly off the foot end of the mattress, and guided her hands out to either side of her. A padded cuff was wrapped around one wrist, and then tension was put on that arm as he looped some type of tether through the ring of the cuff. She heard the faint metallic ring of contact with the bedrail as he secured the tether there.

Her lashes fluttered, but before she could look, he slid an eye mask on her face, a ribbon tie securing it, his fingers lingering at her hair line. She shuddered. “Jon…”

“Keep breathing. Three, two, one…”

He restrained the other arm the same way, then he was moving down the bed.

When he cinched her ankles down, he spread them wide. He knew within an inch the limits of her flexibility, so she was incredibly vulnerable, her muscles straining. That knot in her stomach moved lower, burning.

“Since you can"t climax, I guess we don"t have to worry about this pretty comforter.” She imagined him looking at the Monet print pattern as he continued in that mild tone. “Though if you did climax on it, gushed hard, it would darken the pale pinks of Monet"s flowers. The same color your cunt looks now. You"re glistening, Rachel.” When he dipped his finger into her, she mewled, twitching her ass against the cover as he explored. Then he was back near her head, though he didn"t touch her. He was shifting, doing something, because she could feel his movements on the mattress.

Then he answered her curiosity.

“I"m looking at you, naked and bound, and rubbing your oil on my cock.”

She imagined those elegant fingers, soaked with her arousal, sliding along the broad head. Her stomach muscles contracted.

“Do you want to taste it, Rachel?”

“Yes.” She rasped it.

“You"re going to have to ask for it the right way, aren"t you?” She"d told him she couldn"t. But he"d known the blindfold might make that barrier a little less daunting. In that opaque world, she could answer the dangerous desire she"d nursed. For once in her life, she could not only speak the words but mean them.

All those years, she"d longed for the one who would coax it from her, and here he was.

But he wasn"t coaxing at all. He was demanding and she couldn"t deny him, because it was merely an echo of the truth.

Her voice shook so hard, she could barely get it out. “Y-yes, M-master. Yes, Master.

I want to taste. Please.”

Having her head tilted over the end of the bed increased the sense of exposure and vulnerability. It also put her in a perfect position to service him with her mouth. Since she was tied down, he had full control of how powerfully he thrust, how deep.

When he put his cock against her parted lips, a growl of pure hunger came from her throat. He gave her just the head, pressing it against the flat of her tongue to let her curl around him, taste and swirl along that firm, heated skin. She tasted him as well as herself, and knew the tip of his organ had already been wet, his arousal joining her slippery honey.

Though she hadn"t done this in quite a while, she"d once been good at it. Since most men enjoyed oral sex, this was a part of her subservience Cole had embraced, at least at first. She didn"t want to mix the memories though. She banished those images and instead imagined what Jon looked like standing over her. The columns of his thighs pressing against the crown of her head, the heavy testicles brushing her forehead. His intimate, musky smell made her nostrils flare, trying to take in even more of the erotic scent. Her mouth wanted more as well.

For a blissful moment, he obliged, sinking even deeper. She relaxed her throat to accommodate him. As she"d seen in the shower, he was an impressive size and girth, and she sucked on him, wanting more, more and more. When he let out a quiet oath, she moaned against him, and his hands closed over her breasts. Arching up to him when his thumbs flicked over the nipples, she made a plea against his cock, squirming against her restraints.

“You have gorgeous breasts, Rachel, all heavy and ripe. They"d look beautiful in rope bondage and clamps. The curves all swollen, your nipples stiff. When I took off the clamps and ropes, you"d cry out from the surge of blood, the pain. But you"d love it too, and I"d put my mouth on your nipples and soothe them, suckle on them until you"d be begging me to bite them, to give them more pain. But there are so many parts of you I want to pleasure, I might need some help.”

She was making helpless noises against his heated shaft. God, he was getting bigger. She wanted him to shoot down her throat, wanted him to pull out and spurt over the nipples he was taunting now. But he had other ways he wanted to torment her.

“Peter loves breasts. While I took care of other things, he"d suckle away all the pain, yet make them even stiffer, needier. Your cunt would get even wetter, but Lucas would take care of that. He"s spent a great deal of time studying the way to pleasure a woman with his mouth. He"d thrust his tongue deep into your pussy, do things that would make you mindless. My slave in every way, lost in every desire you"ve ever had.” Whether or not he was merely painting pictures for her fantasies, her body was responding. She remembered their photos, and now she thought of Lucas, the handsome and athletic CFO, with his mouth between her legs. The brawny Peter, that Don’t Tread on Me tattoo on his biceps rippling as he cupped her breasts in both large hands. Jon, her Master, calling the shots.

What did it say about her, that she was imagining it? She should be appalled. Both of those men were married. What are you, some kind of slut? Cole"s voice, an unwelcome intrusion. She stiffened under Jon"s touch. Was she one of those cautionary tales, the sex addict who got so lost in her pathetic needs that all of a sudden she was servicing total strangers at her boyfriend"s behest? Had her experience at Club More taught her nothing? Though Jon knew the right words, was more civilized about it, was it any different?

Yes, yes it is. Her soul wailed at her, begging her not to fuck this up with her head games. For a moment, pretend it is, because you’ve never felt anything like this.

“You"re thinking too much again.” He withdrew, and the loss of that heat and strain on her mouth was enough to cause a noise of petulant protest. “It"s time to take this up a notch. I wanted to make sure you could handle something the size of my cock and fucking hell, but you can. You"ve got a devil-blessed mouth, Rachel.” Before she could think of what to say to that, since a polite thank you seemed inappropriate, a broad head was nudging at her lips again. Only this time, it wasn"t Jon.

It was a thick rubber phallus, it had to be, but it felt…real. Like a hard cock with the velvet give of flesh over it. In fact, she could swear the organ was warm. She started in surprise as he took the thick shaft in slow but deep, giving her that tantalizing terror of having the wide head pushed right against the back of her throat. He stopped there and secured it with straps around her skull, cinching it in until they bit against the corners of her mouth.

“When I finally take that off, you"ll have strap marks there for about an hour.

Whenever you look in the mirror, you"ll be reminded of your submission to me.” The gag was warm, pulsing like a man"s organ, and it had some kind of scent that reminded her of Jon"s cock, his pre-cum. It wasn"t anything like the lifeless, rigid sex toys she"d tried. Having it strapped in her mouth like this made her feel even more helpless…and wetter.

He slid his hip on the bed, and from the prop of his thigh against hers, he was facing toward her spread legs. She wished she could see him there, his tempting ass pressed into her covers, the curve of his back and flex of muscle as he braced a hand on the opposite side of her hip and laid a palm high on the inside of one of her thighs.

“If you"re wondering, yes, that gag is designed to be as much like a cock as possible.

A chamber inside can hold semen, be ejected down your throat when a Master desires to do so. So he can release his seed in more than one orifice at a time. Or it can be programmed to release moisture at the tip periodically. Like my cock did from the tease of that fuckable mouth of yours.”

She made a strangled noise of pleasure as, right on cue, it did just that. The taste, while not Jon"s semen, had a stimulating similarity to it.