Page 90 of Deadly Obsession
“Someone’s excited,” she teases, likely seeing my cock harden.Because I hope she’s going to use that whipped cream on me.“Get up. Sit at the end of the bed.”
Everything inside me wants to fight her for control, but I’ve made it this far, I can’t go back.
I’m not only doing this for her, but I’m also doing it for me. This is my chance to let go of the horrible things that have happened to me. To let someone else carry those burdens.
After setting the riding crop and whipped cream down on my dresser, she stands before me and holds up a blindfold.
“I’m going to put this on you now, okay?”
“Yes, Madam Manilow,” I say, stifling a moan.
“You’ve been so patient, Elias,” she says while putting the blindfold on me. Her warm breath on my lips makes me shiver. “And patient men get rewarded.”
The bed beside me dips, and I feel Sage at my back. She reaches for my arms, and I let her bring them behind where she binds them.
“I for sure thought you would give up,” she says, crawling back off the bed. “You’re a reactive man. You don’t take orders well, and I know that’s because of how you grew up.”
I hold my breath, realizing the lesson she gave me.
It wasn’t punishment. It was a test.
“You don’t let people get close to you, and you hold in your feelings. I understand that. I do. But you’ve grown so much since we’ve met. You’ve shared your life with me, and I’m honored.”
The woosh of the whipped cream sounds, followed by a cold sensation on my chest… right over one of my scars.
“But you have to accept that you can’t always be in control. That you don’t always have to be the hero. Sometimes you can let other people take care of you. That’s exactly what I’m going to do tonight,” Sage says.
Her tongue laps up the dollop of whipped cream and I shudder, tugging at my bound hands. Precum leaks from my cock, and I can’t help the moan that slips past my lips.
“Oh, Boss,” Sage purrs. “Be loud for me. Don’t hold back. Let me hear how well I fuck you tonight.”
Sage’s mouth closes over the tip of my dick, and I whimper for her. She wraps her hands around the shaft and massages while her tongue lashes over me. She takes me deeper, her hands moving to cup my balls. She grips them roughly while sucking me down to the back of her throat.
“Fuck, Sage,” I moan.
She immediately slips my cock from her mouth and stands.
“Now, Elias, you know that’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” she scolds.
Seconds later, the riding crop crashes down on my thighs—again, she’s careful to avoid my injury.
I’ve never been into BDSM, even if what Sage is doing is just a sample of it. Being spankedor whippednever appealed to me because I endured too many beatings as a child.
But this is different. Sage is giving me pleasure with my pain.
She’s taking away the horrible memories of being cut and bruised and replacing them with her mouth, her hands, her beautiful cunt.
Sage shakes the can of whipped cream and places dollops of the cool sweet topping on my neck, my pec, my stomach, andmy cock.
Slowly, she flattens her tongue and laps up each spot.
When she gets to the one on my cock, I’m ready to burst.
“Please,” I whimper.
“Please, what, Elias?”
“Please, I need to come.”
