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Authors: A. E. Murphy

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BOOK: Masked Definitions
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“Thank you.” I reward him by trailing the narrow end of his tie down his chest to his navel and back up again.

“Do you like teasing me?” He bites when I lean into him, trapping his head against the chair as I breathe in the scent of his hair. I drop to my knees and blow warm air across the top of his trousers. “Does it make you wet?”

“All I can think about is releasing your cock and taking you so deeply into my mouth.” I catch the zipper with my teeth and pull the top of his trousers tight with my fingers. Then I slowly pull it down using my mouth after lifting the lace above my lips a fraction. This kind of touching is also against the rules but Rick allows it. It’s part of my game. My seduction. My dance.

He groans, covering the audible zip of his fly.

“I bet you’re as hard as steel for me.”

“I am.” He closes his eyes for a long moment when I gently blow into the gap his fly created. “I’ll pay you ten thousand just to take me in your mouth. If only for a second.”

The thought of having that kind of money makes me almost forget my morals. “I can’t be bought.”

“Then let me hire your mouth.”

“Keep begging,” I say quietly, circling my thumbs either side of his groin. I’m impressed with his ability to keep still.

“Release my hands!” He half yells and thrusts his hips towards me.

“No.” I grin again and stand. His eyes follow as I move to the pole and start circling it slowly. “Have you ever fucked somebody as flexible as me?” He shakes his head in response, watching as I lift my legs and wrap them around the pole. “Do you want me, my Lord Duke?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to taste me?”

“Yes.”

“What am I to you?”

“A whore,” he calls me and I drop back onto my heels and charge towards him. He grunts when I raise my hand and bring it across his cheek. It’s only hard enough to surprise him and sting a little.

“I’m the whore?” I hiss in his ear, wrapping his hair around my fingers and tugging his head back painfully, baring his throat. “How is it that I’m the whore when you’re the one strapped to a chair begging for me to wrap my pussy around that beautiful cock of yours?”

I release him and drop to my knees, only to tug his trousers down his legs. His tight boxers pull even tighter against his abnormally large dick. I wonder if he used a dick extender before coming. I’ve not seen one this big in anything other than a pornographic movie. It isn’t too big to fit; it’s just a lot bigger than average.

He catches me staring and smiles. “Maybe I won’t have to pay you to fuck me after all.”

“Is that what you want?” I place my foot on his trapped arm and slide my hand back down to my sex. He watches closely as I sink a finger into myself. I moan without shame and imagine that it’s his large, calloused hand touching me, that his tongue is working over my clit. “Do you want to be touching me this way, my Lord Duke?” He grunts but says nothing. “How much would you pay me? How much am I worth?”

“Twenty thousand. I’ll bend you over that bench and fuck you until we’re both raw.”

I pull my hand away, hating myself for the loss of the burning tingles that were slowly engulfing my body from my own ministrations. “Just twenty?”

“Thirty,” he grits, struggling angrily against the wraps. “Fucking release me.”

Lying back on the soft carpet, I arch my spine and bring my heels in so that my legs are bent at the knees.

“At least release one of my hands so I can relieve myself,” he asks almost kindly. “You’ve got to know how tortured I feel.”

“Please,” I prompt, sinking my fingers into myself one more time for his viewing pleasure.

He doesn’t repeat it, too proud to use good manners on a whore, it seems.

Stopping again, I lean up on my elbows and look at him. His startling, hooded eyes peer at my very soul as I lie here before him, naked and vulnerable. “If you say please, I’ll let you keep my thong.”

Those hooded eyes widen and instantly the word falls from his mouth. “Please.”

“Of course, my Lord Duke.” Rising to my feet before him, I carefully slot one leg between the arm and the seat before slotting the other on the other side of him so that I am straddling him. His head is level with my sternum. I can hear his heavy breathing and feel his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. “Though I can’t allow you to relieve yourself. That will ruin my fun.”

He growls and lunges forward face first, eager to sink his teeth into my breast.

I lean back and place a hand at his throat. “Follow the rules, my Lord Duke or I’ll leave.”

“Your arousal is toying with my head.” He thrusts his hips up to try and meet mine. We both groan when he clashes with the apex of my thighs for a brief second. “I want you. Why won’t you let me have you? I’ll give you anything.”

“You’ll give me nothing.” My fingers tease the skin of his neck and chest, drawing delicate patterns in the hair there. “Nothing but stillness and I’ll give you everything.”

He blows out a breath and closes his eyes as I finally begin to dance once more. My hands dance gently across his body, my fingertips lightly grazing over his skin, his throat, his abdomen. He moans quietly and shuffles in his seat as I lower myself onto him until finally I feel the length of his steel cock trapped between the cheeks of my arse.

He groans like a man starved of sex. I groan like the female equivalent.

My hips move of their own accord, circling, pressing, skimming and dancing across his legs. I don’t grind against his cock; that’s not part of the game. I give him my eyes and barely touch him yet slightly knock the head of him against my wet and ready entrance. Those little knocks are simple promises of what he wants but can’t have. My nipples brushing his lips as I grip his hair to keep him in place send him wild.

I burn and ache. My core clenches over and over again, wanting his thick, long cock to spear me and fuck me raw as he promised.

“Fuck yes, that’s it.” His forehead glistens with perspiration, as does my own skin. “Let me in.” He thrusts upwards, banging the covered, bulbous head of his length against my entrance. Nothing but two thin pieces of fabric separate us. “Let me fuck you!” He starts thrusting wildly, hitting my clit with each pound, sending waves of euphoric bliss burning through me. My stomach begins to clench, my orgasm inevitable, so I rip myself away, pushing him down as I climb from his body.

He roars loudly at the loss and angry eyes glare at me. “Get the fuck back here.” I can see his cock twitching and throbbing through the tight grey fabric of his boxers. A wet spot forms where the head of his dick rests against his thigh. “Bring me to release or let me relieve myself!”

“No.” I grin again and rest back against the pole.

“Release me now!” He bellows, tugging against the restraints. It’s futile. The cuffs are leather, the strongest kind. He has no chance of escape. “I’ll have you fired. This is torture. I will own you.”

“That’s a lot of threats for a helpless man with his pants around his ankles.” I laugh a breathy laugh and press my foot against his groin. “You have no power here, my Lord Duke.”

“I have all of the power here,” he spits, relaxing back into his seat and inhaling a breath. “Because it’s me who pays you at the end of it.” His eyes narrow. “And if you don’t get that sexy round arse back here and sit on my cock until I come, you will regret it.”

“Please,” I prompt and grin when he growls with frustration. “Fine. I’ll let you come, but on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t ever call me a whore again.” I don’t know why hearing that word from his mouth had such a negative effect on me. I’ve heard it a hundred times from many different men and it didn’t hurt, but from this man, this man I don’t even know, it hurt my feelings. It felt personal. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Those icy eyes soften for only a chaste moment. “You have my word,” he promises and I turn and lower myself onto his thighs. “I want to wrap your hair around my hand. Allow me the pleasure.”

“You know the rules, my Lord.” I grin wickedly and step away from him once more, dancing against the pole with my eyes shut. “No touching.”

“Why do you cover your face?” He asks as his eyes gaze hungrily at my body.

I keep moving around the pole, my body slow and sultry, my movements as smooth as a flutter of silk in a breeze. “The same reason a builder wears a hard-hat.”

“To protect yourself?”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you have some kind of disfigurement that would lose you custom?”

I laugh a little and reward him by bending low and wriggling my rear at him. “Perhaps.”

“I’d like to see your face.”

“Maybe one day you will.” I clap my hands loudly twice and the colour of the light changes from red to purple.

My Lord Duke blinks rapidly as he adjusts to it. “Your skin is glowing…”

I dangle upside down from the middle of the pole. “Have you ever fucked a woman’s mouth in this position?”

His ragged inhale tells me he hasn’t.

“Would you like to?”

His nod tells me he would. He shifts in his seat and flexes his hands. “You like to tease me.”

“I
love
to tease you.” This is also another truth. It excites me when he shows his frustration. I bet that in the real world he doesn’t lose it often. “And you love it too.”

A groan rips through his chest when I drop to my knees and crawl towards him, picking the tie up with my mouth from the ground as I go. I drop it onto his lap. “Is this how you like your women, my Lord Duke?” Then I grin. “No, you get this type of behaviour too easily out there, I bet. That’s why you’ve come here, to me. It’s different; it isn’t free.”

“You think you know me simply because I’ve paid for you to dance for me?”

“I think my assumptions are a little more than mere assumptions.” Using the tie, I circle one of his tight nipples and then the other. I dangle the fabric and pull it down his sides, stroking his skin as softly as possible. “But I’m not here to judge; I’m simply learning how to make you tick.”

The fabric skims over the top of his cock, which is standing proud again beneath the tight fabric of his boxers.

“What are you doing?” He demands as I roughly tug his boxers down, freeing him to the cool air.

“I’ve never in my life, wanted a man to fuck me so badly.” I dip my fingers into myself to try and gain some small semblance of control over my own body. It only worsens the desperate burning I feel inside at the sight of his pulsing shaft. It’s thicker in the middle but definitely not narrow at the top. It’s so long and the way the veins stand out under the purple light make it almost look angry.

“I thought you don’t touch.”

“I don’t,” I circle the bulbous head with the wide part of his tie. He groans and it twitches.

I blow on him through the lace drop of my mask and run my fingers over his quivering thighs.

He begins to pant when I stand and lean backward over his lap, using the arms of the chair to steady myself. My hair dangles, tickling his skin. Then I curve slowly upwards, allowing his cock to lightly touch my bare back. I feel his pre-come on my skin and my sex begins to pulse rapidly.

My body moves, dipping and swaying in a delicate, graceful and sexy way. My skin kisses against his, careful not to prolong any touching.

“Do you do this with every man?”

My eyes snap to his and I turn towards him before I dip my face into his neck and barely brush my breasts against his chest. “No. Just you.”

“You’re lying.”

“I am not.”

He shudders when I climb onto the chair and slowly bring my legs over his. His thighs close quickly, leaving his cock to rest upwards against his stomach. I smile and bring myself down. He shudders and curses when the apex of my thigh and the edge of my thong touch him ever so slightly.

“I’m breaking all of the rules for you,” I admit honestly and tug his head back by his hair.

“Let me fuck you,” he pleads, his eyes on my breasts. “I know you want it.”

“You don’t need me to fuck you for you to enjoy yourself,” I whisper and rest back on his knees. His eyes stare at where the head of his cock points only inches from my thong clad sex. “Just imagine it.” I stroke the tie over his length in a petting motion. I ache to orgasm so badly that my hands are trembling, but this isn’t about me, it’s about him. “You get to tie my hands the same way I’ve bound yours.”

“I pull you to the edge of the seat…”

“And kiss my breasts as you rub yourself between my thighs, smearing the wetness that you created.” I lift the lace up for a moment and bite the lobe of his ear while my hands loop the tie around his cock.

“Fuck!” He thrusts into the air between us, desperate to be touched. “Play with yourself.”

Normally I won’t take orders but I’m desperate. The ache burns and not in a good way. My frustration is making me irritable and if I don’t release, there’s a chance I’ll dry.

“With pleasure.” I lift myself higher, balancing on my knees as I tease and roll my fingers over that sensitive nub. The burning spreads down my legs to my knees and my head falls back.

BOOK: Masked Definitions
11.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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