Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
A possessive thrill shot through him. Good. He wanted to erase the memory of every other male she’d ever been with—wanted to wipe them out completely.
“Mmm, I’m glad you liked it,” he rumbled, his own voice gravelly with emotion. “Thank you for letting me be of service to you, Mistress.”
He leaned closer, unable to help himself, and the rigid length of his cock nudged against her lower belly.
She glanced down, her brow furrowing in confusion as her gaze landed on the black leather still encasing his hips.
“Oh—why are you still dressed?”
“Can’t touch myself—remember?” He held up his right wrist, nodding at the sleek, unyielding non-con manacle encircling it.
Her eyes widened in dawning horror.
“Oh, that’s right! I never should have let them make me put those on you!” she exclaimed. “Here, let me help you.”
With some effort, since her fingers slippery from soap and water, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his trousers and yanked them down his thighs. The wet leather resisted, clinging to his skin, but she persisted—peeling them down until they pooled at his ankles. Braze stepped out, and she tossed the sodden garment into a corner of the shower with a wet slap.
“Now let’s see about this,” she murmured, her voice dropping. She sank to her knees before him, warm water swirling around her.
Braze felt a visceral thrill shoot through him at the sight—his beautiful Mistress on her knees before him.
But the thrill was instantly followed by a sharp twist of wrongness. This wasn’t the dynamic he craved—he didn’t want her submitting. He burned to be the one kneeling, serving, making her feel like a queen.
His need to submit, to please, was a physical ache deeper than the one in his cock.
Her delicate fingers found the buckle of the cruel cock ring and Braze hissed in relief as the pressure finally, blessedly released. The blood rushed back, making him even harder—the head of his shaft swollen and dark, a bead of pre-cum already glistening at the slit.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hard for hours,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on him. One soft, small hand came up to stroke his shaft, her touch exploratory and gentle. “I hope it didn’t hurt you.”
Braze’s breath caught in his throat as her fingers wrapped around him, massaging and caressing. The sensation was exquisite torment.
“No, Mistress… I’m all right,” he managed to grit out. “Kindred males can remain hard indefinitely without any damage.”
It was a biological fact, but right now, it felt like a curse. The capacity for endless arousal meant endless frustration unless it was directed toward pleasing a woman.
“Mmm, that’s good.” Her thumb swiped over the leaking tip, spreading the slippery moisture. “But it still seems like you need a release. And a reward for being so brave tonight when every other man in the place was absolutely useless.”
She leaned forward, her pink tongue darting out to swirl around the aching, sensitive head of his cock.
Fire lanced through Braze’s groin at the soft, sweet wetness of her tongue. But before she could take him into her mouth, his hand shot out, landing gently but firmly on her shoulder to stop her.
She pulled back, looking up at him, her eyes wide and quizzical.
“What is it? Don’t you want me to suck you? I’ve never heard of a man turning down a blow job before.”
“The pleasure of your mouth is more than I deserve,” Braze told her hoarsely. “I was just doing my duty tonight. But if you really want to reward me…” He drew in a shaky breath, his heart hammering against his ribs. “Let me be of service to you tonight.”
“Of service?” She frowned, uncertainty clouding her features as he drew her up by her shoulders until she was standing before him, water cascading down her glorious curves. “What does that mean?”
“Let me show you,” he murmured, hoping she would agree.
She studied his face for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “All right—I trust you. You can, er, service me if you want to, Braze.”
“I do,” he said, the intensity in his voice startling even him. “So much.”
He turned off the shower, grabbed a large, plush towel and began to dry her with meticulous care, starting with her face, moving down her neck, over her shoulders and breasts—lingering just enough to draw a soft sigh—and then down the length of her body.
He knelt to dry her legs and feet, his movements slow and worshipful. This was his Mistress—his goddess. He wanted to honor her. Only when she was completely dry did he briskly towel himself off. He wrapped her in another dry towel, tucking it securely around her to ensure she was warm.
Then he lifted her into his arms, cradling her close. She was a warm, fragrant weight against his chest and he carried her out of the steamy bathing chamber and into the opulent bed chamber, laying her down gently on the edge of the massive, plush mattress so her legs hung over the side.