Page 23 of First Time

My nerve endings shattered, and I cried out as my first-ever climax swept me into bursting lights and pulsing, blinding pleasure. Warmth and wetness rushed through me, every contraction in my core pulling noises of euphoria from my lungs.

Cocooned in Sir’s ropes—his hold—my tingling body floated into peaceful nothing.

Chapter 11

Daniel

Becky’s cries of release echoed in my ears. I’d never heard—or seen—anything so goddamned beautiful in my life.

“The fuck?” Stephen cursed, his hiss radiating through the suddenly quiet classroom.

From the corner of my eye, I made note of him rising to his feet, and the two bouncers Chantelle had standing just inside the door tensed, but I couldn’t tear my gaze from Becky as she swung in front of me, free and floating in subspace.

“The fuck?” Stephen’s voice raised, and I finally turned toward him, uncaring of my raging hard-on. Murder lit his gaze, his open guppy mouth sputtering and spitting, but no sound came out. He lunged forward, but the bouncers reacted faster than his skinny ass could move. They grabbed hold of both his arms.

“Get the fuck off me!” He thrashed, but the bouncers dragged him away.

The door closed and shut out his heightening rant. Fully soundproofed, the room didn’t allow a single muffled holler to reach my ears.

I glanced at Becky.

She still hung suspended, relaxed and quiet, her dark curls hanging toward the dais beneath her.

“I apologize for the interruption,” I stated quietly, turning toward the other couples on the floor in front of me, wanting them gone. Most subs sat in various stages of the harnessing I’d tied onto Becky. “I believe that does it for the evening. Thank you for attending.”

Murmurs broke out as I returned my attention to Becky, soothing my hands over her one straight leg, up along her soft stomach, and over to her other leg I had bound ankle to thigh with a frog tie. Wetness coated her thick pussy lips and dripped into her ass crack.

My mouth watered.

Two steps brought me to her torso, and I gazed at her bound breasts, the crisscrossing ropes squeezing both plump nipples. Her head hung back, silken hair falling away from her peaceful face.

A half-smile curved her lips, and pink stained her cheeks.

Becky will be mine, I vowed to myself. Mine to defend. Mine to worship. Soon.

I ran the back of my hand down her neck, and she shuddered a sigh. “I’m going to lower you now,” I whispered.

Taking my time, I untied the rope holding her suspended her in the air and gently lowered her to the mat. She rested as though sleeping and didn’t move as I unknotted and unbound her legs.

The room slowly emptied, and once Becky lay naked, my rope indents marring her petal-soft skin, we were alone as I’d wished for.

I sat on the floor beside her and gathered her onto my lap, smoothing her hair from her forehead. My cock throbbed inside of my leather pants, pressing against her lush backside for long, agonizing minutes. I wanted nothing more than to slide between her thick-as-honey thighs and sink deep into her until her cream coated my drawn-up balls.

“You were so beautiful, sweetness,” I murmured while trailing my knuckles over the tops of her breasts. Her nipples contracted, and she finally started to rouse, shifting in my arms with a sigh. “Becky?”

“Hmm?” Her eyelids fluttered open, and I drowned in her sated, trusting gaze. Like the strongest coffee, her dark-chocolate eyes were framed by long, black lashes.

“Welcome back.” I smiled and continued running my hand over her body, the swells and dips of pure perfection, careful to avoid erogenous zones.

The corners of her lips rose again.

“How do you feel?”

“Amazing,” she murmured, turning her face into my chest. “You smell so good.”

I chuckled and squeezed her tight with one arm while resting the other on her hip.

We sat in silence for a few moments as I gave her time to come down. I knew the moment reality settled back over her brain—she stiffened in my arms.

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