Page 10 of For the Sub

Driving her on, he tongue-fucked her cunt as he worked his finger in and out of her anus.

Sobbing, she continued to press her pelvis forward, while he relentlessly tormented her.

Her body suddenly went still. Then she moved again in short, desperate little motions as she fought off her orgasm.

“Sir… Sir!” She cried his name. “Please.”

Brandy raised herself onto her tiptoes, and the slight shift forced his tongue deeper.

“Master Niles!”

Knowing she was at her limit, he finally gave permission. “You may come.”

As she screamed, her juices flowed onto his tongue.

Her joy was pure, feeding a flame of desire inside him.

As her waves of pleasure subsided, she swayed back and forth.

Eventually, he withdrew his finger and his mouth.

“Thank you, Sir.” The words were expected, but the wonderment in them was not. “That was”—she forced a soft breath through her lips—“just sensational, Sir.”

Lust for her became a clawing need.

At one time, making subs shatter had ignited him, but in recent years, it had been nothing more than a job. Instead of being fully engaged, he’d held himself and his emotions at a distance. After all, his intent was to focus his critical and artistic eye on making the scene sizzle so that viewers downloaded the video.

With Brandy, though, their time together was for no other purpose than getting her off. Even though he had, he didn’t want to let her go. “I think that’s enough of an appetizer.”

“An…?” She blinked.

“Are you comfortable enough?”

“A little chilled. But yes. Thank you, Sir.”

After washing his hands, he returned to her.

How had he never appreciated just how gorgeous she was?

Her blonde hair was a cascading waterfall, and her womanly curves were designed to accommodate a man’s body.

Gently, he skimmed a forefinger across her cheekbone before moving in to cradle her body against his, offering his warmth.

After a few moments, she dropped her head forward onto his shoulder.

Pleased, he held her even tighter. “You’re an amazing sub.”

“You bring it out in me, Sir.”

He stroked her back, keeping her close until the tiny dots of perspiration dried, and her body temperature stabilized.

They stayed there, lost in each other, for long moments.

Though sounds of the Den reached them, cries, conversation, the crack of leather, it was as if nothing existed outside of their connection.

When she finally tipped her head back, he asked if she’d like to continue.

Instead of the usual, submissive response where she would defer to his decision, she whispered, “Yes, please.”

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