Page 39 of Seven Nights

“I think I'll put a plug in that pretty little ass when I wake you at midnight,” he warns. “You're very snug there, pet. It will take some training before I can give it a proper fucking.”

Does he mean to fuck me at midnight, perhaps with the plug nestled in my anus to tighten my pussy at the same time? The mere idea leaves me ready to burst. I swallow against the cloth inside my mouth, air blowing and sucking sharp and fast through my nose.

“Ass down, pet,” he orders when my hips rise too high with need. “No stress on that ankle or you'll sleep alone tonight and Harriet can check on you.”

My ankle is more than fine, but he has taken away my means of arguing with him.

I slam my lower body onto the mattress.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans as I land trembling on my ass.

Griffin resumes teasing me. There is very little touching between my body and his, but he flexes when I flex, pushes when I retreat. The air coming out of him is just as hot and ragged as my jittery breathing.

His fingers expertly working inside me, he kisses along the top edge of my mouth, runs his lips up the side of my nose, then back down to my cheek before he gently bites at the top lip. With the gag on, I cannot bite or kiss back.

Whipping me toward the quaking edge of my release, Griffin growls in my ear.

“I love touching you, bringing you right to this point.”

He draws my clit taut, pushes my climax a little further out of reach before his thumb waltzes along the swollen, aching line once more.

“Keeping you there,” he groans.

His thumb presses roughly down on my clit. The two fingers inside me are gentle but firm, stroking a spot just opposite his thumb over and over and over until I vibrate with need as he withholds his permission.

One heartbeat.

Two.

I scream through the gag, pleasure mixing with the pain that stabs at my skull.

“Come for me,” he orders.

On cue, I release against his hand, little jets of pleasure squirting from me to wet his palm. He rubs it back onto my flesh, coaxing another squirt and then another.

As I melt at last into the mattress, my body spent from the multiple climaxes he has ripped from me, Griffin rubs his cheek against mine, whispering as I drift to sleep, still gagged and blindfolded.

Thank you, love.

* * *

Midnight rolls around.I wake in darkness, but the blindfold and gag are gone. The pillow is still between us, but his hand is across my mound, squeezing and fondling the flesh. This time he brings me to a soft climax, whispering in my ear to follow my own course. I orgasm then drift back to sleep high on endorphins and the heat of his body beneath the covers.

It isn’t until the four a.m. wakeup that Griffin carries through on his threat to tease a plug into my tight bottom.

He must have beat the alarm on his iPad because I hear him re-locking the bedroom door a few minutes before four. He brings the lights on low. He wears brick red pajama bottoms and carries a small satchel in one hand.

In the low light, his eyes have a devilish glow to them.

Griffin puts the satchel down and pulls the covers off me. He spends a few minutes coaxing me toward the center of the bed, two-thirds onto my stomach with my “bad” ankle propped on pillows. The position leaves my pussy and ass exposed.

He dips into the bathroom, returns with a warm, moist cloth and begins an intimate cleaning of my flesh. I bury my face against the pillow, trying to hide the riot of emotions surging through me at his tender touch. He corrects me with a not so tender tug on my hair.

“No hiding, pet.”

Right. No hiding.

Apparently that rule only applies to pets.

---