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“Oh god!” I shouted, my hipsbucking against his face despite his best efforts to immobilize me.Every nerve drank in sensation, drowned in it. The humid air on mycool, wet skin became a caress, the void of black sky above usenveloped my vision and met with the starbursts of red at itsedges. Every bit of information my brain took in dove straight tothat tiny piece of flesh beneath his mouth, and it became theagonizing center of my world before I broke with a loud, gutturalmoan.
And he didn’t stop.
I could only lay there,helpless and pleading, as he drove his tongue into my pussy, fuckedme with it while my body burned. He nudged my clit with his nose,and I thrashed at the overstimulation, which only seemed toencourage him. He released my hips and reached for my hands,gripping my wrists and further immobilizing me as he forced me intothat breathless moment of suspension, the second before I wouldcome again, so close—
He stopped and let me go.
Dizzy and confused, I pushed myself up.Did he think I’d finished, and he couldn’t tell?
“Go to the couch,” he said,moving toward the shallow end of the pool.
I rose on trembling legs that barelysupported me as I made my way to the seating area. Every stepthreatened to make me come while I walked.
“We need condoms,” heexplained. “Touch yourself. But don’t come until I get back. Infact, don’t come again until I give you permission.”
A stuttering laugh burst fromme.
He strode up the steps from the pooland didn’t look at me as he headed toward the door. “I’m serious.Be a good girl.”
My jaw dropped. Had he guessed I wasinto being bossed around, or was he bossy? And why, despite severalvery fun encounters where I’d played a meek and submissive partner,did I want to be a very bad girl because he asked for theopposite?
I went to the couch andlaid down as he’d instructed, spreading my legs to feel the aching,dripping flesh between them. I mimicked his earlier tongue trickwith my finger, circling around my clit slowly rather than usingthe strong, fast touch I’d employ to get myself off. Still, lyingfully naked outside, knowing the people on their balconies haddefinitely overheard me having possibly the best orgasm of my life,was enough to make every touch treacherous. He wanted me to wait?That was fine. I could wait.
I pushed two fingers into my cunt,gripping down on them at the thought of his cock entering me. Itwould be so much better than my fingers, so much bigger and deeper.When I returned my fingers to my clit, I felt even emptier thanbefore. I’d never been so turned on, so ready and willing to doanything to get fucked.
I got closer, closer to the edge,almost there, when I remembered what I wasn’t supposed to do. Ijerked my hand away and huffed in frustration, gripping the sofacushion to stop myself from reaching for my orgasm.
“Did you do what you weretold?”
Matthew’s voice startledme, and I sat up. He tossed a box onto the coffee table and droppedinto the armchair, making no move to touch me. He watched me as Ilay there, panting.
“I did.” My voice wassuddenly hoarse, and I badly needed a drink of water.
I didn’t need to ask. He stood and wentto the bar, retrieving a glass bottle of mineral water. Itimmediately began to sweat in the heat, condensation rolling offit.
“You sound parched,” hemused. “Don’t get up.”
“I can’t drink laying down,”I rasped.
“I know you can’t.” Heknelt beside the couch, and I reached for the bottle, but he drewit back, out of my reach. “Patience.”
Patience? I was thirsty and hot andmiserably turned on, and now I was supposed to be patient? The manwas a—
Sadist.
He pressed the cold glass to one of mytaut nipples, and my body reacted like I’d been shocked with acattle prod.
“You know you can tell me ifyou don’t like something,” he said casually, lifting the bottle andrepeating the action on my other breast. “You don’t have to goalong with anything you don’t like.”
“I wouldn’t go along withanything I don’t like, anyway.” My clit strained and throbbed forattention, but when I moved my hand, he pushed it away.
“I like to give orders,” hewent on, dragging the bottle down my stomach. “I like to playgames.”
“Lucky you,” I whispered,fully aware of the path the bottle was taking. “I like takingorders and being played with.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. Heparted my labia and pressed the neck of the gently sloped bottleagainst my clit. “Do you like to pretend to struggle? Do you liketo beg someone to stop when you don’t mean it?”
“No.” That part always hadmade me a little nervous. It took a lot more trust than I had in meto make someone think I was in distress, and they should keepgoing.