A Dance for Him (15 page)

“How could I not stay,” she murmurs.

I squeeze her hand as I retake my place across from her.

“I was worried I’d scare you. That you might decide I wasn’t good for you or something. That I might have been too rough with you last week - that I’d be too rough with you this week.”

Her eyes widen. “Is that why you weren’t that rough with me just now?”

I kiss her hand in reply.

“W-what if I say I’d like to try that out?” she stammers. “Because I do. I haven’t been able to get what you said last week out of my head. Or the memory of how you just … took what you wanted. I’ve been thinking of it all week when going to bed.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

He’s staring at me, a dark glimmer in his eyes, his cheeks flushed - his right hand trembling slightly as he sets his fork down.

It’s almost as if I’ve activated some primal, predatory instinct in him, just by saying what I did - I can almost
feel
his desire, even though all he’s doing is holding my hand at the moment.

I can’t help but briefly drop my gaze, as though in submission, before I look back up at him.

“You mean, when I was fucking your sweet mouth,” he says, holding my gaze, his voice measured, deliberate. “Because,” he continues, “you’re going to have to call things by their names if you want me to do them to you.”

“When you were fucking my mouth, yes,” I repeat softly after him, as I feel my juices escape me, soaking the seat I’m in.

“So you’re saying you would like more of that, Paige? You’d like me to dominate you? With all that that entails? You’ll trust me to take care of you even as I call you filthy names and teach you the pleasure of submission?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “I’d like you to teach me how to submit to you … I want to be a good little slut for you. I like not being in control.”

His eyes widen for a moment before a smile overspreads his face.

It’s a smile that is at once roguish and imperious, with little hint of the Sebastian Morland who’d said he was holding off on being rough because he was worried he’d scare me.

It’s like he’s come alive - more alive, even, than I’ve ever seen him, which is saying a lot, given the last few weeks…

“Well then, Paige, I want a safeword from you by the time you’ve finished your dessert. And know that, once you’ve crossed the threshold of my bedroom, you’ll be mine to do with as I please, unless you use the safe word in question.”

After I’m done with dessert and have given him the requested safeword, I ask him if I can go and freshen up before we go upstairs.

It’s strange asking for permission like this, as though I were back to being a schoolgirl and he my teacher (ha!), and yet there’s something oddly exciting about it - although maybe that’s because of the way he looks at me when he smiles and tells me to go ahead, then meet him upstairs in his bedroom.

I’ve always loved the way he looked at me but this is something new - not just lust or longing, but a certain wicked, erotic knowingness, as though he were already planning what to do with me afterwards …

His door is ajar when I get to his room, but I knock nevertheless.

“Come in,” I hear him say.

The moment I step into the room he grabs me, pushes me up against the wall, and stifles my cry of surprise with a fierce, fervent kiss.

With a shudder of excitement I remember his words earlier, that I’d be his to do with as he pleased with once I crossed the threshold of his bedroom …

“You’re mine now, Paige,” he growls in my ear as his hands wander hungrily over my body, manhandling my breasts and butt.

Or, perhaps, as he might prefer me to say, my tits and ass …

“Do you know what that means?” he continues. “It means I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight that you still won’t be walking right when you next see me in class. And everyone who sees you will know that sweet, deceptively innocent little Paige Lytton has gotten what she deserves, a good hard reaming from a big hard cock. I want you to look at me in class and think:
there’s my master, the only man who can give my insatiable pussy the ruthless fucking it needs
. Because you’re going to be addicted to my cock by the time I’m done with you. I intend to ruin you for all other men, do you understand, Paige?”

“Yes, Sebastian,” I breathe.

He taps my cheek lightly, as if in stylized approximation of a slap.

“You don’t address your master by his name, Paige, not when you’re being his pet.”

“Yes, Sir,” I murmur, as I feel his fingers slide into my mouth, his lustful gaze searing my flesh.

He smiles approvingly and withdraws his fingers. “Good. Now that we understand how this is going to work … I want you to take off that shirt and give it to me. And then you’re going to go over to the bed, kneel down beside it, and offer me your wrists for restraining.”

I obey, my hands trembling as I unbutton the shirt, my heart pounding so violently that I feel almost light-headed.

Perhaps in response to my nervousness, he strokes my cheek after he takes the shirt from me, in a tender, reassuring gesture, then gently pats me on the ass, as though dispatching me to my assigned position.

A roguish smile crosses his face when he sees me get on my knees beside the bed and look at him, wide-eyed, expectant, submissive, dripping with anticipation.

He’s not in any hurry, though.

Quite on the contrary - as he maintains eye contact with me, he slowly, deliberately unbuckles his belt and takes it off.

Without quite intending to, my gaze shifts briefly to the bulge in his trousers, making him smirk, but he doesn’t unzip his pants just yet.

Instead, he saunters over to where I am, sits down on the bed, takes my wrists, and wraps the belt around them in such a way that it’s as though I’m cuffed, before tilting my face up and bending over to kiss me, this time hungrily, brutally, as though to give me a foretaste of what’s to come.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs as he strokes my face afterwards, his gentleness a strangely arousing contrast to his roughness earlier. “You have no idea how beautiful you look when you’re naked and submissive and helpless. I’d almost like to just claim your tight wet pussy right away but that would be too easy. Besides, you’ve been checking out my package since you got on your knees, and your lips part slightly every time you look at my crotch, don’t think I haven’t noticed …”

I blush, but he continues, undeterred. “There’s no need to blush, Paige. You said just now that you wanted to be my good little slut. In which case there’s no shame in wanting your master’s cock. The more shameless, the better - you understand that, when we’re playing, your only desire should be to service your master, and as well as possible, because good little sluts get fucked to orgasm, but if they don’t please their master they’ll have to go to bed without coming. And don’t think that you’ll simply touch yourself after I fall asleep, because your hands will be kept bound to prevent that. I don’t imagine that’s a situation you would find ideal, is it now, Paige, my beautiful pet?”

“No,” I breathe. There’s something about his voice, so elegant, so measured, that sends chills of anticipation down my back, not to mention that there’s now almost certainly a wet spot on the carpet in the area between my legs - I feel like I’d surely die of horniness if he didn’t fuck me tonight.

It’s almost as though he’s so in control that I can give in to my own desires instead of keeping them in check - as though
he had enough control for the two of us
, so that I can abandon all inhibition and be a good little slut for him
…

“So you want to be fucked tonight, is that right, baby girl?”

“I want to be fucked tonight, Sir. I need to have my pussy stretched out by your huge cock.”

He raises an eyebrow and smiles, clearly pleased that I’m not just echoing him, but being dirtier than he asked.

“Well then, Paige,” he says, finally unzipping and removing his pants to reveal his delicious erection, “I’m going to play with your mouth first, and if you please me, I’ll have a little surprise for you afterwards.”

A little surprise?
I think, wondering what that could possibly be, but there isn’t time to think for long, because before I know it, he’s wrapped his hand in my hair, pulled my head backwards, and shoved his massive cock into my mouth.

But not all the way - just enough to fill my mouth, just enough to tease me, as though to say:
Want more of my cock? Then suck it
.

Just enough, so that when he pulls back slightly, I reflexively follow, not wanting to lose his cock, which makes him smile, even as his breath catches audibly.

“You
are
a sweet little cock whore, aren’t you? And you look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around my cock it’s like you were made to service me … My hot little fuckdoll.”

In reply I can only look up at him, my eyes half-closed with desire - if it weren’t for the fact that my mouth is currently jammed full of cock, I would smile at his compliment, so filthy and yet so oddly tender in tone.

He seems to understand my response.

“Very good, Paige,” he growls. “Did I tell you how much I like it when you look at me when I’m using your mouth? Keep doing that, and you’ll get your reward, because every good pet deserves a treat.”

He pauses a moment to see my reaction, and looks pleased when I obediently maintain eye contact.

And then he starts slowly thrusting into my mouth. He’s not too rough at first, preparing me for his cock like he did the first time, but soon the intensity and speed of his strokes increase, although occasionally he pushes my head all the way onto his shaft and keeps it there, as if to train my throat to accept his cock.

I can hardly breathe when he does that, but when I do catch a breath (he’s careful to allow me what I need) it feels like all I can smell is sex - not just his manly musk, but my juices that have practically been gushing out of me ever since he began fucking my face - it’s strange how being helpless and bound just seems to magnify the erotic impact of being used for his pleasure.

Sebastian Morland’s pleasure. My professor’s pleasure.

My master’s pleasure
.

Despite the superficial discomfort, the occasional gagging and tearing up, it’s bizarrely intoxicating yielding myself up to be used by him, becoming accustomed to the hypnotic rhythm of his thrusting - I feel almost empty when he pulls out of me and strokes my cheek tenderly.

“Fuck, baby girl, that was beautiful. Now get up onto my bed and spread those gorgeous legs of yours for me.”

I obey.

At first, when he pushes my bound hands back so that they’re over my head, then gets on top of me and kisses me while getting between my legs, I think he’s going to fuck me, especially since I can feel his hard cock pressing against me, and besides it must be obvious to him that my pussy’s sopping wet and practically aching to be filled up by him.

But things are clearly never quite as simple with Sebastian Morland.

Instead, after a hoarsely whispered “Keep your hands where they are”, he moves down with his kisses, first brushing his lips over my neck before settling on my breasts, kneading them as he sucks on my already stiff nipples, making me moan as sparks of pleasure travel through me. When he’s had his fill of my nipples, he looks up at me with a devilish grin, then trails his mouth further down, past my tummy.