Page 45 of His Toy

In control of me.

“You are not my slave yet, Heather,” he said.

“I know, sir.”

“Tell me what you want.”

I licked my lips. “I want to please you, sir.”

“Be more specific,” he snapped.

“I want you to teach me to make you moan, like you made me crazy the other night.” I breathed deeply. I could flirt still, couldn’t I? Zaid hadn’t agreed to my proposal yet, but being a slave didn’t mean I was a compliant zombie. “I want to go down on you exactly the way you like it. It’s only fair, sir.”

He smiled, the warmth of his lips making me melt. He approved, then. I smiled too. He motioned for me with two fingers, then pointed at the ground. I kneeled in front of him.

“Undress me.”

I undid his belt, the button loop, the zipper. His boxer briefs were warm from his body heat, his cock bulging beneath the fabric. I bit my lip.

“Take my cock in your hands.”

I removed his shaft from the hole in the front, and it sprang forward, full of girth and length, a subtle shade darker than the rest of him. A drop of come was on the tip of his head, and I wanted so badly to lick it off, to taste the salty sweetness of his desire. His desire for me.

“In your mouth,” he growled.

I took the head of his shaft in my mouth, holding back a groan of pleasure. The warmth, the smoothness of his skin, his shaft flexed, for me—it was so hot. “Slow. Like that.” It was hard, stupidly fucking hard, to stay slow like he asked. I wanted to work him back and forth and rock him into orgasm, but this? This slowness was teasingme, and I wasn’t even the one receiving pleasure. “Work your tongue. Your hand.” I moved my tongue back and forth, feeling the veins, relishing in them, their strength,Zaid’s power, and I used one hand on his shaft, moving it up and down with my lips.

“Touch yourself, Heather,” he breathed. “I want you to come sucking me off.”

Keeping one hand on his shaft, I moved the other hand down, weaving my hand under my panties. I was already wet.

“That’s it, toy,” he breathed, and I could feel him relaxing into bliss. I let myself sink into the pleasure too. “You’re my toy. My slave. My little toy.”

As I worked him in my mouth, he held the back of my head, his fingers laced in my hair, moving me up and down, adjusting my speed to his liking. I couldn’t help it; I got off on hearing him say that:You’re my toy, my slave, my little toy.I washis. Even if we had a long road ahead of us, the challenges from Eric and my sister, to Zaid answering whether he actually wanted a master-slave relationship with me beyond his design, to figuring out what that actually looked like for us—even with all of that, for these few moments, we could forget everything and just be. I savored the abandon, and when he came, he demanded that I come too.

And I did.