Reaching out with my right hand, I traced his handsome face. His skin was warm beneath my touch, familiar and grounding. My fingers danced along the edge of his jaw, feeling the light beard he always sported. I let my thumb rest just below his cheekbone, waiting.
He didn’t speak, didn’t rush me—just held my gaze and gave me a minute to get it together. I waited for him to give me permission to talk, a silent understanding passing between us. His hand came up and mimicked the gesture I had on his face.
Finally, he gave me the smallest nod. “You may speak. I can see you have something to say.”
For a moment, I remained quiet. It was as if the entire world outside this room didn’t exist. Just us. Just this connection. My voice was barely above a whisper when I spoke.
“Will you promise to always look at me as you are right now?”
His gaze never wavered, full of that quiet devotion of his. It sent something fluttering through my chest. He didn’t rush to answer. Instead, he exhaled, his thumb brushing over my nipple as he held my hand to his face.
“I can,” he murmured, his voice a quiet vow.
Emotion thickened in my throat, a swell of gratitude, of love so fierce it nearly stole my breath. My lips parted, and the words came without hesitation, without fear.
“Thank you, Sir.”
His dimple flashed again, softer this time, like he understood everything I wasn’t saying. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss into the center of my palm, sealing the moment in the way only he could.
Then, with a click of the button on the remote in his hand, he spoke. “Next level.” He smirked as he set it back into position. I swore off knickers right then and there, forever. I’d burn the bitches tomorrow.
I arched my back and cried out loudly, unable to keep it in. I then remembered he’d said I could make sounds. The relief of that knowledge had my body responding wildly. I thrashed and my head jerked as I strained against not only the restraints, but against the urge to come.
“Just two more to go. If you are a good girl and I really hope you are and make it through, I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name, and your body gives out on you,” he crooned.
His words set me on fire. I wanted nothing more than to feel him stretch me, fill me. I was desperate for it. I rocked and arched, wishing he would have chosen an internal toy.
“You have something else you want to say. What is it?”
“Sir, I want to feel my pussy pulse around your cock,” I confessed.
“Do you really? That makes me happy to hear. You’re so fucking wet, my dirty little angel,” he moaned as his hand pushed my panties to the side and his finger ran between my folds.
I pushed my hips up and against his finger, hoping he would slip two of them inside me.
“Please, Sir, please?” I begged.
“Please what? You want my fingers inside you?” he asked as he ran them once more slowly between my lips.
When I shifted my hips to angle them so he’d slip inside, he pulled his fingers away.
“I don’t think I like this game,” I grumbled.
“Little liar, you do so. Now, if you want my fingers, you’re going to have to earn them.”
“How do I do that, Sir?”
“Let’s see. First, you can clean them off. Your pussy is dripping so much I didn’t even have to put them inside you to get your juices on them. Open,” he commanded.
My lips parted. “Now suck like a good girl.”
I closed my eyes as I tasted myself on him and felt dirty, but in the best way. Knowing how much he loved the way I tasted and remembering his mouth on me from earlier wasn’t the best thing to focus on because, as he pushed the second finger in almost down my throat, I bucked against the sensation between my legs. The orgasm hummed right beneath the surface, and I approached the edge. My eyes went wide.
“Andrew—” I mumbled around his fingers.
“What did you call me?” He raised his brows. “In this room I am Sir and only Sir. Address me properly.”
How silly of me! It was the first rule he’d taught me and ensured I followed without fail. Any other man I would have been afraid, but not with him. He removed his fingers for me to answer properly.