Master Cullen moved her knees outward, and the night air touched her wet pussy. “I don't want you to move. Not at all.” His fingers wrapped around her thighs, and the feeling of his strong hands sent heat straight to her clit. “Do you understand me, Andrea?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Yes, Señor.”

He smiled into her eyes and deliberately ran his finger down through her folds, the feeling so exquisite that she gasped. And her legs trembled with the need to move. His eyes stared into hers. When he touched her clit, the sensation raised her heels as the wave of arousal rushed through her. Don't move. She forced her feet back flat.

“That's a good girl,” he said softly. As his gaze dropped to her pussy, she felt very, very exposed. Her whole body shook with anticipation, with needing him, and he wasn't doing anything. Anything.

She clamped her jaw against the rising demands. Touch me.

His eyes glinted as if she'd spoken, and then he smiled slowly. “I've wanted to put you in chains since the moment I saw you, and, sweetie, I intend to take my time and enjoy myself.”

His words sent a tremor of excitement through her, and his smile increased. He moved to sit on the lounge beside her. With one finger, he toyed with her breast jewelry. The tiny shocks zipped through her nipples and downward until she squirmed.

“These have been on long enough, and I've been looking forward to sucking on your pretty breasts.” He removed the first one.

Blood surged back into her nipple, and pain blossomed so suddenly she squeaked. Her hands jerked in the restraints as she tried to move and couldn't. She gritted her teeth against the whine trying to escape.

Cullen's smile flashed before he licked over her throbbing peak, increasing the erotic burn.

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“Unh.” She gasped when his lips closed over her nipple. His mouth was hot. Wet. He sucked and tongued the sensitive nub until she arched up uncontrollably, the pain and pleasure so mixed she couldn't tell where one started and the other finished.

He pulled back slightly.

Her breathing had turned ragged. As the air brushed her wet, aching areola with coolness, her breast felt tight and swollen. When he sat up, she gave a sigh and relaxed against the lounge, the exquisite torture over.

His eyes crinkled. “You might not have noticed,” he said as if having a conversation in a coffee shop or something, “but last time I looked, women possess two breasts.”

What did that mean? She frowned.

“Which means you have two clamps.”

Before she could yell no, he unfastened the other.

“Oh, Dios!” The rush of returning blood hurt even worse this time, and her hands jerked uncontrollably, trying to get to the pain. When his mouth closed over the burn, she whined.

His tongue, wet and hot and unrelenting, lashed across the throbbing sensitive tip. But as the pain diminished, the sensation kept getting more and more erotic, and her swollen pussy started to pulse in time with her heartbeat.

He curved his big hands under her breasts and pushed up, tightening them, as he sucked one nipple, long and hard, and then the other.

Her head tilted back, and her toes curled. She needed to move, to touch, and her arms tightened, the chains clanking against the metal frame of the lounge chair. Nothing gave and heat raced through her.

“Like those chains, do you?” He smiled into her eyes and clasped her elbows, leaning his weight down, adding to her feeling of being restrained. Held in place. He took her lips, sucking on her tongue as he had on her breasts, and she could almost feel his mouth on her nipples with each pull.

His control removed her ability to do anything, leaving her only sensation. And he was deliberately overloading her senses.

Abandoning her mouth, he moved down. He nipped her waist, circled her belly button with his tongue, and kissed the top of her mound. Each touch of his lips zinged straight to her pussy. When he knelt at the end of the lounge, she tensed. The V between her legs ached with need.

He ran warm hands over her ankles, squeezing calves, her thighs. One finger traced up, over increasingly sensitive skin and finally paused at the crease between her pussy and her leg.

She started to strain upward, and barely remembered he'd told her not to move. A shudder ran through her.

“Such soft thighs,” he murmured, “with all those muscles hidden beneath.”

He bent, and his lips touched her inner thigh. His shaggy hair brushed against her labia for a tantalizing second before he nipped the tender skin just below the crease. She yelped, then moaned as the sting ran straight to her pussy.

“I can see you're not going to last long,” he murmured and licked her clit. A buzz filled her head as her whole body tensed. When her hips lifted, he curled his hands over her legs, pressing her into the pad, adding one more restraint, keeping her right where he wanted while he did whatever he wanted. And everything he did made her need worse.

She moaned as his tongue rubbed one side of her clit, then the other, until the nub felt too tight. Engorged and throbbing. Oh, please… She was going to explode in a second, and nothing would stop that. The nerves in her pussy seemed to bunch together in preparation as his tongue slid over the top of her clit, so slick, so hot.

He moved one hand so his finger could tease the outside of her labia, circling her entrance. She quivered, trying to press up, to urge him inside what was becoming an aching emptiness.

His tongue flicked over her clit, and his fingers circled until both sensations merged into one exquisitely sensitive whole, and anywhere—anywhere—he touched drove her nearer to the verge. The pressure became unbearable. She couldn't suppress the long whines that escaped her.

When he stopped, she moaned. More. Oh, please. She felt him move. A crinkling noise—a condom? He tongued her again, right over her clit, until she rose, closer and closer, hovering on the peak, waiting just for…

He clasped her waist and slid her up on the lounge. And then he came down on her, his body heavy and so hard. Her hands jerked at the chains, wanting, needing to touch him. “Let me go. Please, Señor.”

He studied her for a long moment. Then his cheek creased as he set his hand on her breast, moving his fingers deliberately over her, rolling the nipple until her back arched.

“No.” He moved fully on top of her, his size startling, adding to her sense of being controlled. His erection pressed against her opening. He swirled the head of his cock in her wetness, then pushed a bit inside, just enough to tighten the skin around her clit, wakening new nerves with the fullness at the entrance. He teased her, sliding in and out through her sensitive labia.

Then his finger touched her clit, lightly. A tiny stroke, two. Her hips raised as everything tightened again, her vagina trying to close around his cock. Dios, just a little…

“Come for me now, Andrea,” he murmured, and rubbed a firm finger right over her slick clit—that one touch she'd needed to shove her over the cliff—and at the same time, he pushed farther inside her, huge and hard.

“Oh, oh, oh!” An indescribable explosion of pleasure burst through her, raging outward until even her fingers jerked. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against the startling thickness pushing into her entrance.

As the aftershocks died, Cullen kissed her. “Good girl. God, you're gorgeous when you come.” He'd braced his forearms on each side of her head, and now he pressed his erection in, easing her open, inch by inch.

“Slow?” she asked, not even sure what she meant, and gasped as his cock went deeper into her.

“You haven't done this in a while, pet. Fast can wait.” But his cock hadn't stopped advancing, and now she was starting to feel impaled. She wanted to retreat, but his legs between hers kept her open. His weight didn't let her budge.

His eyes had never left her face. “Right now, Andrea, you should be saying 'Yellow.'”

She could take it. She could. She panted. He's too big.

“Say it, Andrea.” His gaze captured hers as he slid in farther, painfully. “Now.”

“Y-yellow.”

And he stopped. “There now. The world didn't end because you told your Dom you were getting overwhelmed.” He braced himself on one arm and cupped her face. “I need to know, sweetie, and you need to be able to tell me. Do you understand?”

She swallowed and whispered, “Yes, Señor.”

“Very nice.” Now he pulled back slightly, and she shuddered in relief. His cock moved inside her, in and out in small thrusts, until she relaxed, and then he pressed forward again. She moaned, the fullness and sense of complete possession shocking in a way it had never before.

The little sub had definitely not made love in a long time, Cullen thought, his hands clenching the metal frame as he held himself back. She felt so fucking tight that the urge to shove into her grew almost unbearable. He felt her vaginal walls stretch to accommodate his size, and he slowed further, but continued in small increments until he was buried deep in her. His balls thudded against her poor bottom which was undoubtedly a bit tender from the anal plug.

She gave a muted squeak.

God, he loved the sounds she made. What would she sound like when he took her ass?

He studied her for a long, slow moment. Her breath came in tiny pants; her eyes were wide, her arm muscles taut and still pulling on the restraints. She needed more time.

So he leaned on one arm and diverted himself with a breast. Full and solid, it filled his big hand perfectly. The nipple jutted hard into his palm, and when he pinched it, her pussy clenched.




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