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I clenched my teeth against the pain, and tears began to roll down my cheeks. “I love you, too!”
“Who’s your Master? Who do you belong to, boy?” Nicolas rocked forward and back while he asked questions that landed on my ears in the form of demands.
I bellowed. “I’m yours, Sir. I belong to you.” My elbows fell to the sand, and I leaned downward with my ass pushing high into the air. The movement maximized the availability of my ass for the assault from my Master. The throbbing pain slowly subsided while he continued grinding forward and back, sending waves of pleasure surging throughout my body.
Nicolas shouted over the sound of the waves. “My boy!”
I raised my head and followed with a shout that cut through my raspy moan. “My Master!”
A tight grip slammed my ass back hard against Nicolas, and he held me in place while his cock erupted. Spent from the fierce fuck, he pulled out, and we both collapsed onto the sand.
The tide was coming in, and ripples of water washed over our arms and legs as we lay side by side, staring up at the nearly dark sky. “Is this heaven, Sir?” I asked.
Nicolas’ chiseled, masculine mouth curved upward into a smile. He pointed up at the sky. “No, they say heaven is somewhere up there, my boy, and it’s better than here. So now you know how absolutely amazing it must be.”
I rolled over, threw my arm across Nicolas’ broad chest, and nestled my face against the slick, wet curls of black hair that spread across his pecs. I whispered, “I’m yours forever, Sir.”
* * *
Every dizzying peak of emotion with Nicolas inched higher than the one before. We were mountain climbers who planted our flag on a new pinnacle every time we made love. It was that way nearly nonstop since the moment we met at a charity art event almost two months earlier.
Nicolas was a rising star in the art world. He returned home after gaining acclaim in Chicago galleries. I purchased one of his pieces for the tidy sum of $35,000, and before long, we were in bed. A short time after that, we fell helplessly in love.
I was Ryan Rowley, the only child and heir to the Rowley family fortune. My father passed on unexpectedly when I was only fifteen, and he left the bulk of his fortune to my mother. I received enough of the estate in a personal trust fund to officially earn the title of billionaire. All of those assets reverted to my control at age 21.
For a billionaire, I was frugal and earnest in my efforts to support my community. I did my best to manage the wealth responsibly and use the bulk of proceeds from my investments to improve my home city.
Despite the reputation of billionaires being ruthless egomaniacs, I was a quiet man at public events and preferred the company of a small circle of loyal, devoted friends. Not long after I met Nicolas, he suspected I was missing something else in my life beyond the standard definition of a boyfriend. I needed control, structure, and a leader to follow. In short, I needed a Master. I didn’t yet wear a collar, but my commitment to Nicolas was not only one of love but also one of service.
I joined Nicolas in the shower inside our small rented cottage when we finally stumbled back up the steps of the deck after our hot-blooded roll in the ocean. Fine-grained sand coated our legs and backs. I loved the ritual of showering with my Master and looked forward to the blend of soap, warm water, and long fiery kisses to bring our evening to a close.
With loving strokes, I coated Nicolas’ sturdy six-foot frame in foamy soap, and he pinned me to the shower wall, closing his sensuous lips over a nipple. It was one of my most sensitive spots. I threw my head back and moan to the ceiling. I clenched Nicolas’ bald head in my hands while his tongue made long lazy circles around the stiff little nub.
When my Master raised his head again, I kissed him with a new level of ferocity and did my best to rinse the soap from his hard body. By the time we exited the shower, I was exhausted. We left trails of water across the bathroom floor, and I rubbed a big, thirsty towel over every inch of our bodies. I wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and drift off into sound sleep with my Master’s arms wrapped tight around me and my head nestled against his shoulder.
Nicolas had one more surprise in mind. While I lay flat on my back on the bed, breathing slow and fighting the urge to drift off into dreamland, I heard him rustle around in our luggage.
My ears perked up at the unmistakable sound I’d heard so many times in the past two months. It was the creak of leather and the clink of chrome hardware on the cuffs I wore to bed almost every other night. My response to them was fully conditioned. I heard the leather, and I was instantly hard. I rolled over onto my side to bury my erection in the bedsheets.
“Something special for you.” Master’s voice was full of mischief.
I opened one eye. He dangled both cuffs from his right hand. I said, “I didn’t know you brought them. Didn’t you worry they’d catch them in the security line?”
“I always put them in checked baggage, and no, they’ve never stopped me. I brought a few more toys along, but these will do for tonight.” Nicolas patted the side of the bed. “Now come sit here so I can put them on you.”
I didn’t know what Nicolas had in mind. Sometimes I slept with the cuffs on but no other bondage. I loved the smell of the leather when I woke up in the morning with my hand tucked under my pillow and my cuffed wrist near my face.
I’ve also slept with the cuffs on and my wrists bound loosely behind. I hauled myself to a sitting position and smirked when I looked down to see myself fully erect.
Nicolas laughed and said, “It looks like part of you can’t wait.”
I blushed. “You have me conditioned, Sir.”
Nicolas lovingly wrapped the cuffs firmly around each wrist and then drew the straps tight through the buckles. “Now lie back in the center of the bed, and raise those arms above your head.”
I followed my Master’s commands and shivered slightly out of fear that he might leave me bound spreadeagle through the night. Nicolas always kept safety as a first concern, but I didn’t know if sleeping in that fashion would be safe. I didn’t even know if I could sleep.
Within minutes I understood that my concerns were unfounded. “And now an orgasm for you, my boy.”
With my mind focused on service to my Master, I’d forgotten that I didn’t come on the beach when he did. I was learning the art of ignoring my sexual desire to focus solely on my Master’s needs. Fortunately, I was a very lucky boy. My Master was going to make sure I slept in the afterglow of carnal ecstasy.
Nicolas possesses a phenomenal sense of touch. He can bring me to the edge and over in only a few minutes, or he can draw the process out for hours. For our first special night in North Carolina, he took me to a space somewhere in between.
I squirmed and rode the edge of arousal from one peak to another. Each time, Nicolas took me one step closer to coming before he let go and stared into my eyes as I slipped back down into the valley.
Finally, without warning, Nicolas ordered me over the edge. I nearly blacked out, and my arms thrashed in the cuffs when I exploded, shooting my sticky load all over my chest and belly. My eyes glazed over as I stared into my Master’s eyes. He barely gave me time to gasp for breath before smothering me with another sizzling hot kiss.
Nicolas released my wrists from the bed frame but left the cuffs locked on throughout the night. Before turning out the lights, I rolled to my side in the bed, and Nicolas slid up behind me. A satiated smile spread across my face when his still hard cock nestled itself between my ass cheeks.
