Page 13 of Going Deep (Odyssey #3)

Straining against the straps holding her down, she didn’t know either—and didn’t much care.

The light, almost delicate touch on her clit was a tease, a torment, pushing her closer and closer to orgasm, but not hard enough or fast enough to take her over the edge.

She tried to push her hips back, desperate, and couldn’t move an inch.

He chuckled again. “ No , darling. You don’t get to decide.

” His fingers left her clit, and her broken wail echoed through the room.

He pressed a finger to the opening of her cunt, barely breaching the entrance, before pulling back to circle gently.

Press and circle, press and circle, over and over until she thought she’d cry if he didn’t make her come.

“This is torture,” she gasped.

His answer was a smug, “ I know.”

Her body felt heavy, her blood thick. Her aching, empty pussy was pulsing, little spasms that felt so good, so frustrating.

Her breasts ached where they pressed into the padded leather beneath her, her muscles strained against the straps holding her down.

Her breath came in pants, her heart thundered in her ears.

She hadn’t known her body was capable of feeling so much.

“You’re beautiful, Ginger .” His voice rang in her ear, so close, and she forced her eyes open to find his face all but pressed to hers, watching her as his fingers continued to circle and press, circle and press.

“ Your face is flushed, your eyes are bright. Ass practically glowing, and your pussy…” He pressed harder for a brief, wonderful moment, and her needy flesh clenched hard around the tip of his finger before he drew it back.

“Your pussy wants so badly to come,” he whispered, his eyes glowing with satisfaction and lust and what she thought might have been joy. “ Doesn’t it?”

She licked her lips. “ Yes .”

“Yes what, Ginger ?” he asked, his voice so low, so rough she barely heard him through the ringing in her ears.

“Yes, Sir .” She couldn’t look away. “ Please , Sir .”

“If I give you what you need, what will you give me?”

“Everything,” she answered, not caring what she was promising, heedless of what she was offering. “ Everything .”

His eyes flared, going a bright, glittering green at her words. One finger suddenly penetrated, driving deep into slick, swollen tissues, setting off a riot of sensation. Her hips tried to arch and couldn’t move, driving her higher, and her eyes started to slide closed.

“No, you don’t,” he warned, pulling his finger almost all the way out. “ Eyes on me, darling.”

She struggled to open them again, struggled to focus on his face.

“Good girl,” he praised, pushing his finger back in. “ I’ll stop if you close your eyes or look away. I want to watch you when you come.”

That made her blush, but the lure of the orgasm overrode embarrassment. She fought to keep her eyes open as his finger thrust in, then out. Slowly , steadily, never picking up speed or pressing harder, pushing her only so high and not letting her go any higher.

Oh, she just needed a little bit more. More pressure, more speed, more something , but she couldn’t get it.

Her body strained against the straps, wanting to push back, push hard, but no matter how much she tried she couldn’t move.

With a frustrated moan she went limp, collapsing against the bench.

He’d give her what he wanted her to have and no more, and she would take it.

Like the bondage, the knowledge that she had no say in the matter was oddly freeing.

His eyes went bright when she stopped fighting the restraints.

“ That’s a good girl,” he growled and suddenly one finger became two, stretching and widening her clutching sheath, and slow and steady became fast and hard.

The slap of his hand hitting her pussy was an obscene echo, the small pain adding to the heat and the tension and the need until everything inside her gathered, waiting, waiting…

Then it burst, need and pressure and tension exploding into exquisite pleasure.

Her body shuddered and jerked against the straps, her cunt pulsed and clenched around his invading fingers, her clit throbbing and tingling.

He didn’t stop, driving her through the spasms, and unbelievably she felt it gather fast and hard and burst again, and the room went white as she came and came and came.

Ginger lay in Michael’s lap, cuddled in a soft and fuzzy blanket, a soft warm weight against his thighs. Her eyes were closed, her lips soft. Her cheeks still held a flush, were still dewy from her orgasm, and his dick was hard enough to drive nails.

Which, under the circumstances, wasn’t the most comfortable sensation.

He shifted slightly, grimacing when her soft, round ass rubbed against his dick.

He was hard as a rock. She’d responded so beautifully to the bondage, starting the slide into subspace almost as soon as he had her in the straps, and the spanking had only pushed her deeper.

Then watching her orgasm, holding her gaze with his while her body convulsed and her pussy spasmed around his thrusting fingers?

He was lucky he hadn’t come in his pants.

She shifted in his arms, her eyelashes fluttering gently against her cheeks. Her eyes opened finally, soft blue eyes blurry as she looked up at him. She blinked once, twice, then she smiled so serenely his heart clutched.

“There you are,” he murmured and ruthlessly tamped down on lust. His turn would come—for now, he needed to make sure she was all right. “ How do you feel?”

“Mmm.” She leaned her head back against his arm. “ Floaty , a little drunk.” She shifted on his lap and winced. “ Sore .”

He didn’t bother to hide his satisfied smile.

She looked around. “ I don’t remember moving. Did I pass out?”

He reached up to stroke her hair away from her face. “ Not really. You went away for a little while, that’s all. It’s not uncommon.”

“Oh.” Bemused , befuddled, she could only nod.

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “ Ready for some water?”

“Yes, please,” she said and moved to sit up.

“Stay,” he said sharply, and added a hard look to the order before reaching for the bottle of water he’d already retrieved from the small refrigerator in the corner of the room. He handed it to her, lips quirking at her frown.

“I’m not a dog,” she muttered.

He laughed, unoffended. “ No , darling, that you aren’t.”

She sipped the water. “ Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. How’d you like your first scene?”

“Well,” she mused thoughtfully, “the orgasm was pretty awesome.”

“Agreed. What else?”

“The bondage.” She sipped again, her eyes on his over the bottle. “ The straps. That was…”

“Take your time,” he encouraged when she trailed off, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Comforting?” She lowered the water bottle with a frown. “ That doesn’t make sense, though.”

“It does,” he countered. “ You started sliding into subspace almost right away.”

“Subspace?” she repeated.

“It’s a state of mind a lot of submissives reach during play when they surrender fully to their Dom , and to what’s happening. It’s not rare, but it is rare to find it so quickly, and with so little work.”

He skimmed a gentle finger down her nose. “ I think we can safely say that you really like bondage.”

“I felt really mellow at first,” she explained. “ Almost meditative. Then , not so much.”

“How would you describe how it felt later?”

“Frustrating,” she said and shot him a reproachful look from under her lashes. “ Very frustrating.”

“You still liked it.”

“That doesn’t seem right. Why would I like something that’s frustrating?”

“Because by enduring it, suffering through it, you got a very nice reward.”

“You were teasing me,” she accused.

He shook his head. “ I was waiting for you to surrender. And you did, beautifully.”

That brought a deeper flush to the delicate pink of her cheeks. “ Oh .”

He could get addicted to making her blush. Ordering himself to keep his mind on the task at hand, he asked, “ What about the spanking?”

Her gaze softened and went dreamy. “ That was amazing. It hurt, but it didn’t?”

“Mmm.” His eyes twinkled at her. “ Then we can say sensual pain is something you enjoy as well. All in all, a very successful first scene.”

“I guess it was,” she agreed, then frowned. “ Except …”

“Except?”

“We didn’t have sex.”

“We didn’t fuck,” he corrected. “ We definitely had sex.”

She frowned. “ But we were supposed to fuck.”

“Were we? Well , if you insist.”

He stood in a fluid rush, making her gasp and clutch at his shoulders. She gasped again when he yanked the blanket away, leaving her naked in his arms. She wriggled and writhed against him as he strode across the room to the bondage table. “ Hey , where are you?—”

“Silence,” he ordered, barely biting back a grin when her mouth dropped open in shock.

“Listen—”

“I will gag you,” he warned, and she shut her mouth with a snap.

Too bad . “ Smart move,” he told her and set her bare butt down on the edge of the table. The table’s height was adjustable, and he’d taken the time earlier to make sure it stood at just the right height for him. “ What’s your safeword, Ginger ?”

“Red. Sir .”

She was breathing hard, the pretty nipples that had softened after her orgasm hardening again. Her eyes were wide, shock and heat lighting up the soft blue, but he read no anxiety there, no fear.

He’d been gentle with her thus far, easing her into the sensual play. Now he’d see how she reacted to a different kind of touch.

He grabbed her hair, twisting the short cap of it tight in his fist, the beast inside him awakening at the stunned heat in her eyes. Taking advantage of her open-mouthed shock, he yanked her head back. The kiss wasn’t a seduction this time—it was a taking, and to his delight, she gave.