Page 65 of Masked in Deception
Satisfied that I’ve thoroughly made my point, I look down at my phone only to see that Marco must have turned it on do not disturb when he had it earlier. Which means my alarms didn’t go off. Which means we’ve been sitting here talking for hours. Which means I’malready ten minutes late to meet my masked man, and I’m a fifteen-minute cab ride from the club.
“Fuck!” I yell, jolting Jack out of his reverie and earning me a few concerned glances from the rest of the bar. I don’t say bye or thanks as I waste no time getting outside to hail a cab.
I don’t care how rude I am. All I can think about is how late I am. And how muchfucking troubleI’m in with my own Phantom.
Chapter fifty
When I walk into the room, my girl is kneeling on her cushions, wearing nothing but her collar like a good pet. Like she wasn’t thirty minutes late. Technically, I’m late too, and technically, I’m the reason we’rebothlate in the first place, but I’ve been fantasizing about this particular punishment from the moment we established thispet and Sirdynamic.
I watch her chest rise and fall dramatically, no doubt from the adrenaline rush of making it here before me. She thinks she’s off the hook.Oh, do I have news for you, Princess.
“You were late,” I say, stalking over to stand in front of her.
Her posture slacks but only for a fraction of a second, and if you didn’t have a graduate degree in her tells, you would never know. Lucky for me, I’ve spent my life studying Margot Sinclair, so I know she’s already accepted her defeat. She doesn’t say anything, though. No, my good girlkeeps that perfect little mouth closed as she stares down in front of her like she was instructed to do.
I crouch down in front of her and take her chin in my hand, gently pulling her face up to look at me. “Did you think I wouldn’t know you were late?”
She stares up at me but doesn’t make a move.God, she’s so perfect. I almost hate to do this to her.“You may answer, pet.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. I thought when I got here before you that you were late too, and it wouldn’t matter—”
“It always matters.” I cut her off and squeeze her jaw for emphasis. “You do understand that the punishment for being dishonest is going to be much worse than the punishment for being late?”
“Yes, Sir.”
She’s probably imagining a series of spanks and a rough fuck. The anticipation in her eyes alone is enough to have me fully erect. I could give her that. I could spank her ass raw, then sink into her perfect fucking pussy. My little pain slut would be so wet from her punishment, I could sink to the hilt with one thrust. Or I could finally take her ass. I could tie her so that she couldn’t squirm away from me as I fed her tight hole inch after long inch.
Deciding to go with my original plan, I use my thumb to gently rub her lips before standing up to go get the supplies for the night, laying one of her cushions down in front of my desk, and sitting in my chair.
“Do I need to walk you over here on your leash, or can you crawl to me by yourself?”
My good girl slowly crawls over to her cushion and sits up on her knees between my spread legs, waiting for my next command.
“That’s a good girl,” I say, petting her hair back from her eyes before gently taking her arms and pulling them behind her body, using a satin rope to tie her wrists behind her back. “Color?”
“Green, Sir.”
When I look into her eyes again, her pupils are blown with lust.I forget how much my dirty girl loves bondage.
“Good. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”
She obeys my command beautifully, pulling her red painted lips into an O and sticking her tongue out, just the way I imagined. It takes everything in me not to take out my cock and slide it so far down her throat she can’t breathe. But I fight the temptation, pulling my balaclava up to above my mouth and leaning down close enough to spit onto her tongue. My good little whore doesn’t even flinch, just hollows her tongue to hold what I gave her and waits for her next order.
“Now, I’m going to set a timer for three minutes. Hold that there until the timer goes off, then you can swallow. Since you were thirty minutes late, we’re going to do that ten times. That’s your first punishment.”
Between each round, I spend my time typing like a madman to make her think I’m really working, when, in reality, I’m just pouring my heart out to her in a confession she’ll probably never see.
She takes her first sentence like a champ, just as I expected. I’m the one who's struggling to keep it together. Each time I pull my mask up to reveal my mouth, it’s harder and harder not to claim hers with my own, and when she licks her lips before my last spit, my resolve is gone. I crash our lips together with a force that steals her breath. She can’t reach around to touch me with her hands bound together, but mine are free, and they latch on her waist with a bruising grip as I explore every inch of her mouth. I allow myself a moment to indulge in the fantasy where this is real Jack and real Margot alone in the house we share, before pulling away, leaving a mouth full of my spit behind in the process.
“You did so well taking your punishment for being late,” I say as she swallows for the last time. “Color?”
Her bright blue eyes are almost entirely black as she looks up at me. “Green, Sir.”
“Good, now place your head on my thigh and keep it there, pet. Are you ready for the punishment for not being honest with me?” I ask as I begin petting her hair back from her face.
“Yes, Sir.”
The longer I run my fingers through her hair, the more she relaxes on my leg.
