Page 75 of Ward

“I love pleasing you,” she says, her voice all breath. She strokes my shaft. “I love making you feel so good that you lose control and fuck my mouth.”

I slide my thumb over her bottom lip.

“You want me to fuck your mouth, little one?”

She nods. “Please.”

I groan softly as she wraps her lips around me again. With my hand on the back of her head, I thrust into her mouth with as much control as I can marshal, encouraging her to suck me harder, faster. The head of my cock meets the back of her throat more times than I can count. She gags, drool and precum running down her chin.

I could claim her mouth every day for the rest of my life and never get enough. But as much as I’m dying to unload at the back of her throat, I’ve only just begun toying with my little one.

Grace whimpers as I ease her off me, gazing up at me with tearful eyes that beg for more. I feel the same way; there’s no way I could ever drink my fill of her. No matter how many times or ways I’ve had her, I’ll always crave more of Grace.

I catch her nipples between my first and middle fingers, then strum the hardened tips with my thumbs. She whines, pressing her thighs together.

“You want me to make it hurt, little one?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.”

I pinch her nipples hard. She gasps, thrusting her chest toward me, even as her features scrunch with pain. I alternate between strumming and pinching, then give her sweet little tits a good, hard slap. I push her down on the bed, looming over her so I can take one stiff, swollen nipple into my mouth.

My hand slides up her thigh to rest against her mound. She’s already slick. I dip between her pussy lips and touch the pad of my middle finger to her clit. She spreads her legs wider and rocks herself against me. I draw firmly on her nipple, hard enough to discolor the skin, all while tracing tiny circles over her clit.

This is how it’s supposed to be: pain and pleasure woven together, doled out at my mercy. I thought I was protecting her by trying to keep the two separate, but all I was doing was putting a ceiling on both. Now, more than ever, I see how they amplify and match each other. The pleasure I give enables her to handle more pain, while the pain intensifies her pleasure. And mine.

I torture her other nipple for a while, then step back to appreciate my handiwork. She’s blushing from her navel to her nose, and so turned on that she’s dripping arousal.

“Your desperation is beautiful.” I run my hands up her thighs and across her stomach and chest, avoiding the typical pleasure spots in favor of areas that are so often overlooked. Her tender sides, the sensitive skin directly below her navel, the shallow plane between her breasts.

The next time we’re out in public, and I run my fingers along her forearm, I want her to remember this moment. How I made her delirious with nothing but a gentle massage.

“I’m going to cuff you to the bed before I flog you,” I tell her.

It’s been months since she was kidnapped, but I still make a point to gauge her reaction to the concept of being restrained. My cuffs are much nicer than the ones Liam put on her, made of Italian leather and lined with faux-fur. This won’t be the first time I’ve bound her since the fire, but anxiety has a habit of lying-in wait. You think you’re out of the woods, and then suddenly, it rears its head.

Grace offers me her wrists, palms up, her gaze resolute.

“I’m ready, Sir.”

I attach the cuffs, then tell her to lie face-down further up the bed. She’s perfectly capable of moving into position on her own, but I can never resist an opportunity to touch her. She gasps as I skim my fingertips between her thighs, petting her mound and continuing my ascent along the cleft of her ass. I fasten the cuffs she’s wearing to a set of chains that are already hooked to the headboard.

Stepping back, I move around to the side of the bed take a moment to admire the perfection laid out before me.

My cock aches to be inside her. I stroke myself, knowing she can see me and that the sight of it will make her all the more desperate. I had planned on stoking my sadistic impulses with some orgasm denial, but now that I have her at my mercy, I want to watch her come.

I open the dresser that houses our toy collection and pick out the flogger I intend to use, as well as her favorite wand vibrator. Back at her bedside, I press the on button, filling the room with a low, resonant hum.

Grace wiggles her ass eagerly.

“Spread your legs for me, little one.”

She does as she’s told. I position the vibrator between her thighs, ensuring that the rounded head is touching her clit. She humps the wand and moans.

“You have my permission to come when you’re ready,” I say.

“Thank you, Sir,” she says with a sigh.

I smile to myself. Grace thinks she’s getting off easy, but the upside of knowing what she enjoys is that I also know how to overwhelm her with too much of a good thing. I gather her hair to the side, exposing her back. She trembles as I brush the leather tips of the flogger along her spine.

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