Chapter 82: Chapter Eighty-Two

“Shouldn’t it be me seducing you? I thought you were upset.”

“Sauce for the goose, Master…” I open another button, working my way down… “Sauce for the gander. We were both upset. We can seduce each other.” The shirt falls open and, my gaze lifting to his, smiling now, I tug it free of his belt… “Not that either of us needs much seducing.”

His lips curve as, in his turn, he works down the buttons of my blouse. “Mrs Haswell,” he murmurs. “I would like you to undress and get into our bed.”

“What would you like me to wear, Master?”

“Nothing. I simply want you to myself, naked…” He aims a finger… “... in that bed over there.”

Regardless of his words, I undress slowly, taking my time, letting his gaze follow me as he, in businesslike fashion, simply strips off then, throwing back the blankets, climbs into bed. Sitting up against the headboard, he watches as I unhook my bra and step out of my panties.

Unclothed, I face my Master, smoothing hands over myself as I give him a few seconds to take me in before, eyes creasing, he flips back the blanket beside him, patting at the sheet. As I slide in, he shifts down and onto his side, rolling me into  his embrace as his mouth opens over mine. Accepting his kiss, returning it, I revel in the taste of him, the scent of him, the press of his burgeoning erection against my thigh.

He teases at my tongue with his, tracing the line of my teeth. The sensation skitters south, a wave of warmth over my belly that sets my tantalised pussy onto Heat.

My Master too, is warming. A fine sheen gleams over his forehead and cheeks, smoothing the scrape of a day’s stubble over my chin. His breathing deepens and as he pulls away from me for a moment, pupils like great dark eclipses have all but swallowed the steel-blue irises.

His movement grows more urgent, more ardent. Not merely embracing me now, but grasping me, my own fragrance surges, pungent with arousal and my sheer need for the man I accepted as, first my Master, then my husband.

His breathing rasps, his colour growing high, matching the flush flooding my breasts, blushing over my neck and face. Inside too, heat ripples my core, liquefying to lave my unfurling pussy and my swelling folds.

He glides a hand over my belly. One of us is slick with sweat. Him? Me? More likely both. The palm slides smoothly, massaging over my waist, my hips, my outer thighs, then cupping my mound…

“Open for me,” breathes my Master, easing a foot between my ankles, supporting my leg as I slide it over his. The palm lifts, and now fingertips continue their tender trail over delicate skin, drawing lines of fire in the crease of thigh to loin.

Pussy pulses and the air snatches in my lungs, catching in my throat to emerge as, first a gasp, then a groan.

“That's it, my Love. I want you ready for me. When I take you, I want your body to swallow mine.”

It will. I know it will. Inside, I'm increasingly fluid, increasingly liquid. The fingertips graze my clit, then pinch, and I yelp, jolt, and pulse, hot juices spilling to scald over my twitching entrance.

“Master…”

A gentle tug of my lower lip, drawing out the flesh. “Soon, my Love. But for now, I want to enjoy you. And for you to enjoy me.” Something flicks at my stiffened bud and again, I yelp. Another flick and electricity dances a rumba through my clit, spiking through to my clutching pussy.

“That’s good,” he murmurs. “You’re making my hand quite wet…” His chest rumbles with suppressed laughter... “… And that means I’m primed for this.”

Paired fingers jiggle through my vulva, waggling as they go, before dipping inside me. At my entrance, they pause, not penetrating any more deeply, but instead winding circles inside my flesh. Spiralling wider, the fingers stretch me, drawing honey from my pumping cunt and gasping air from my throat.

My pelvis takes on a life of its own, twitching and jerking, juddering against my Master’s hand as, chuckling, he continues his erotic teasing.

Pussy snatches, protesting this non-penetrating penetration.

I want something inside me.

I want a man inside me.

I want my Master inside me.

He shifts, re-angling, and abruptly I find his thumb has joined the party, kneading my bud as the fingers continue their devil’s jig at my quivering entrance. More than quivering…

Deep inside me, the sensation blooms. The liquid, electric throb, the pleasure that crosses the barrier to unbearable ecstasy-pain with its intensity.

I think he feels it, withdrawing his hand. “Ready for me?”

“Oh, God, yes. I want you inside me, Master. All the way inside.”

“Easily achieved.” I can hear the smile in his words. He rolls, topping me, hitching me up at the hips as I part willing thighs for him, the heavy press of his body only brief as he lifts to perch up on his elbows. His hips, toned and tight, lie between the softer vee of my own, firm muscles now eclipsed by the hardness of the erection measuring a furrow against my flesh.

Hands cupping behind me, he lifts, positioning me to his liking as I angle to swing my legs. Catching him by the waist, I latch my ankles together and, in the same act, lock our two bodies as one.

My breasts rise and fall with my breathing, trembling with my heartbeat to brush against his chest, the hair tickling my nipples. My cunt dances and skips then, as he moves to anchor himself against my gaping entrance, tensions.

His expression is intense, but his touch tender, fingers lacing into my hair.

“Master?”

“Now, my Love. Now…” And gradually, he enters me.

There's no effort. No need for him to open me. He eases in and, my body sheathing his more easily than slipping on a glove, in a slow languorous movement, he fills me.

Exhaling, he holds there, his head drooping to my breasts, a stray lock of hair stroking my skin as he places a soft kiss on a nipple, then opens his mouth to suckle.

It’s so beautiful…

So heady…

So sweet. And I revel in our closeness and my surrender to my Master. More than submission. My total surrender. No music. No distractions. Just the two of us, and the only sound, our mingled sighs.

Master and submissive… A part of me I never fully understood before we met, craves his Dominance. My right to be taken. His right to take me.

Arching, he shifts his hips and I press my heels into the small of his back, canting to draw him deeper within, to draw the taut plane of muscle that is his belly more firmly against my own.

His lips graze my chest, drifting over the hollow of my collarbone, roaming the curve of my neck, before settling back over my mouth. Not quite kissing, not quite touching, the warmth of his breath washes my cheek. “God… You feel so good,” he whispers.

“And you, Master.”

His hold on me tightens and he rolls, taking me with him and I follow…

“Kneel up…”

… unravelling from around him until he lies on his back, his shaft still buried deep inside me as I straddle him.

With a groan, gripping my hips, he lifts, drawing me to kneel upright. “Hold yourself, there. And reach.” 

Gasping, I raise my arms, linking fingers behind my head, stretching upward to display myself. Levering my pelvis to impale myself further, I sweep under my hair, letting it spill in a great red cloud over my shoulders and down.

My Master’s gaze follows me. Down, over my breasts and the taut peaks of my nipples. The pale curve of my belly. The smoothness of my mound and thighs, now shiny and slick. “My God, but you’re beautiful,” he rasps.

His body tightens, flexing. Inside me, he swells and hardens. His breath hitches and he shudders before, with a soft grunt, he moves.

It's slow and deep, a gradual rise and fall, barely thrusting. In a soft undulation, with each lift, his grasp on my hips tight, he penetrates me, then withdraws. Penetrates and withdraws…

… Until my mind is awash with him, the sight of him, his smell and his touch, and the taste of him, lingering on my lips.

As he lifts and lowers, all I can do is feel. The slide and the pressure of him inside me, his skin and the slight roughness of coarse hair against mine, the way he moves his body and moves mine against his.

And the pleasure. The pure, utter pleasure that he is in me and that we are together.

His thrusting grows stronger. Harder. Faster.

The pressure builds inside me, until I'm gasping and panting, my body tensing, my legs and arms straining.

And then I'm falling over the edge.

Crashing.

Exploding.

The wave of pulsing, ecstatic pleasure washes over me, engulfing my entire body in an exquisite ecstasy, snatching my breath away.