His Little Tart (23 page)

Bondage Ranch 4: His Little Tart

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She knew he’d be watching her. She wiggled her ass to make sure she had his attention. She was getting used to the fact that he thought she was sexy. She was even starting to believe it. He followed her, and she waited until he was halfway through the door to say, “Don’t forget your own briefcase.”

He laughed. “Um, right.”

She waited. He might like the view from behind, but she didn’t want to get too far ahead.

“Floor fourteen,” he said.

She walked to the elevator, pushed the button, and waited. It was late. Hopefully, the elevator wouldn’t take too long. She didn’t know what he had planned, but whatever it was, she was eager for it. Alone in a hotel room with Aidan could only be a good thing.

The elevator came quickly and started rising to the top. No one got on in the lobby. Aidan set down the briefcases and pulled her into his arms, her ass nestling his hard cock. He closed his fingers around her nipples, through the fabric, pinching and tugging them until they were big and hard. The built-in bra of the halter top wasn’t made to conceal such a reaction, but there was no one there to watch. She hoped that there wasn’t anyone to see on floor fourteen. He, obviously, didn’t care.

She had a giggle as she thought of what would happen if there was someone.

They’d stare, maybe. And that was it. Maybe that would even be kind of fun. It wasn’t the sort of thing she would have dared, but with Aidan by her side, she did. Especially because he didn’t ask her permission. Outside the kitchen, he was in control, and he’d made it clear he’d accept nothing less. Knowing that he might assert that control at any time made her constantly wet around him.

He let her go and picked up the briefcases again as they passed floor twelve, this time holding them both in one hand. The doors opened at fourteen, and there was no one there. He put his arm around her waist and led her to his room, with a trace of a possessive squeeze.

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Sindra van Yssel

He opened the door and flicked on the light. He patted her ass as she walked in and then let the door swing closed.

“I didn’t bring any clothes for tomorrow.”

“What make you think you’ll wear any clothes tomorrow?” He grinned at her.

“I’ve got you taken care of. Sunday you can make cupcakes, and Monday you can play delivery girl in Philadelphia and then race down to Washington to sign the lease, but tonight and tomorrow, you’re mine. Understood?”

Her heart beat faster. She’d worked her entire adult life to get to the point where she could open the bakery, and now that the details were coming together, she had to wait until Monday anyway, for the business hours of the realty she was dealing with.

And she’d discovered that she had a second dream—being as completely his as she could possibly be. Just as when she’d started her baking career, she didn’t know exactly how it would work or where it would take her, but she was determined to try.

“Understood, Master.”

“Good little tart. Now take your clothes off.”

“Right here?”

“Sure. Bathroom’s right behind you. We’re taking a shower.”

“Together?”

“Yep.”

She nodded and pulled off the halter top. Her nipples were still jutting out proudly, begging for attention. She unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor and then kicked off her shoes. She was wearing cotton panties.

He grabbed them and ripped.

“I only have five pair left, you know.” She was guessing at the number.

“Fine. You keep wearing ’em. I’ll keep taking ’em off.”

“Should I buy more?”

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“Depends on how much you like me ripping them.” He grinned. “But you needn’t own any knickers at all, as far as I’m concerned.”

She shivered. She was aware of every inch of her bare skin. She shoved the remnants of her panties off. She’d put on another pair tomorrow with the same results.

A reminder of who was in charge was never too far away with him.

He walked to a table, tossed his suit jacket on it, and then his tie on top of that. She watched as he removed his shirt. She never got tired of seeing the rippling muscles displayed. She ran her fingers along them as he unfastened his belt. Then, feeling mischievous, she reached around much as he had in the elevator and slid her hands on his chest until she felt his nipples underneath her fingers. She pinched.

He moaned. “You can do that, my love, as long as you don’t think it means you’re in control.”

“Never, Master.” She filed away his reaction. She’d see how he liked it sometime while they were making love.

He lifted one foot to take off his shoe and sock, and then did the other. She teased his nipples with her fingernails, wondering if he’d keep his balance, but despite his sharp intakes of breath, he seemed to have no trouble. In the meantime, there were parts of him she found more interesting. She slid her hands down his belly, finding his pants unzipped and his cock hard when she finally reached her goal. She held it in the firm grip he liked, enjoying the way it pulsed in her hand. They’d gotten tested together on Tuesday, and the results had come back that afternoon. They’d fucked to celebrate.

She wanted him again, skin on skin.

He squeezed her wrist, gently removed her hand, and turned around. “Shower, remember?”

“Do I smell? Was I that nervous?”

“You were nervous, but you smell lovely. Shower first anyway.” He turned her around and gave her a smack on the bottom that sounded worse than it hurt. She scampered to the bathroom, hearing his steps behind her.

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Sindra van Yssel

“So why are we taking a shower?” she asked once they were in the bathroom. She knew she ought to let it go, but she couldn’t resist asking questions.

“Because you’ll be more comfortable if you know you’re clean.” He reached past her to turn on the shower and adjusted the water.

“More comfortable for what?”

“For what I’ve wanted to do ever since I met you. I’ll make it good for you.”

Uh-oh.

“Temperature’s right. In you go.”

“What about you?” Constance asked, since he obviously wasn’t going to answer her other question. She got in before he gave her another swat. The warm water sprayed on her body, and she turned her back to it and let it beat down in an invigorating massage.

He grinned. “I’ll make it good for me too.” He ripped off the paper covering over the soap and then joined her.

“I meant do you need to be clean?”

“Not especially. You’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

She couldn’t resist. “Aren’t I always?”

He held the soap under the water for a moment and then massaged her shoulders with his soapy hands. “Yes, little tart. You are always full of questions. Now let them go for a moment and feel. That’s an order.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. She almost asked him if he wanted to get under the water too, feeling she was being selfish, but she remembered and held back. His hands cleaned her arms, her breasts, and her stomach. They slipped over her smooth pussy, which she had shaved that morning at his request. She’d found that every other day was enough to keep it smooth. Having it bare made her feel sleek, sexy, and a bit perverse. And he never seemed to get tired of having his hand there. Or having his fingers on her clit.

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He made sure it was very clean, and she grabbed the steel bar on the side of the shower for balance. She suspected at home she’d have ripped the towel rod off.

He crouched down to rub her legs. Apparently it wasn’t all about getting her incredibly turned on. He soaped them down until they were as clean as could be.

“You’ve gotten every inch,” she said.

“Hush. And no, there are inches I still need to get. Let me get under the water and grab the towel rod at the other end.”

She did as directed without thinking about how that placed her, until she felt his hands on her ass. Reaching for the rod had caused her to bend over slightly, but apparently not enough. He pulled her back until she was stretching. His slick fingers massaged her backside, then slid into her crease. At least, covered with soap, she didn’t mind him touching her there. Then he pulled on her cheeks and wiggled a finger against her opening.

“Master?”

“Shh. Relax; let me in.”

She took a breath and tried to relax. He massaged and probed, rubbing the bar of soap up and down her crease. Finally, he managed to get a finger inside a little way.

Then farther. It tickled, and excited nerves she wasn’t used to having touched. It felt good, but it so shouldn’t.

“That’s so dirty,” she protested. Bent over the way she was, relying on the towel rod for balance, was almost like being bound. She didn’t feel she could move. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“It’s so clean. Squeaky clean.” His finger moved inside her, rubbing against her inner walls. Her pussy gushed anew at the crazy sensations coming from deep inside her.

What do you have in mind?
She barely stopped herself from asking it. Besides, she suspected she knew.

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Sindra van Yssel

He slid his finger out at last. Her ass clenched at the space he left. She should be glad to get rid of the invader, but instead, she felt empty.

He turned off the water and grabbed a towel. He dried her briskly, the towel rough against her already aching breasts and pussy. “Go to the bed, and wait for me on your hands and knees.”

She glanced down at his hard cock as she stepped out of the shower. A finger was one thing. Did he intend to fuck her in the ass? The protest died on her lips. He was so big. She didn’t want to ask. She wanted him to do what he wanted to do, whatever it was. And she wanted to wait, ready for his pleasure.

She went to the bed and crawled up on it. She was aware of how her pussy and her ass were exposed as she knelt on the bed. She spread her legs, wanting to be even more available to him. She could hear the soft susurrations of the towel against his body, and then his footsteps. She looked back at him. Maybe it would have been more submissive to face the wall, but she wanted to see his well-defined pecs, his rippled abs, his jutting cock.

He opened his briefcase and pulled out a jar of clear liquid. Lube.

She breathed. Was it going to hurt? Was she going to be able to take him? A mixture of fear and anticipation swirled around her and settled maddeningly in her core. She wanted it. Wanted him inside her in the worst possible way—and the worst possible way seemed to be what he had in mind. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her a few inches toward the edge of the bed. Toward his cock. Then his hand went lower, to cup her mound. His fingers dipped into the molten liquid of her pussy, and they slid, lubricated, until they came to rest on her clit. Then she felt something wet trickling in the crease of her ass. Lube. “It’s warm!” she exclaimed in surprise. She expected it to be cold.

“I’ve been keeping it wedged between two of those hand-warming packs, love.

Just for you.”

Bondage Ranch 4: His Little Tart

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He thought of every last thing. Even when he was pushing her past where she thought her limits were, he didn’t miss a detail relating to her comfort. Her heart warmed. “I love you too, Master,” she murmured. She didn’t think it was loud enough for him to hear.

“I love you, my little tart,” he said.

Her heart jumped.

“And I’m going to keep you,” he added.

It was all she could do not to turn around and throw herself into his arms, but she stayed still. She wanted what was to come. She suspected there’d be time for a long cuddle afterward and sleeping in his arms as well. His finger slid along the crease of her ass and then entered her, rubbing lube inside her walls. This time it went in much more easily.

He slid a second digit alongside the first, stretching her. He drizzled more of the warm lube onto her and smoothed it around her entrance and inside, until he slipped in and out easily. Then he stretched her some more—another finger? She couldn’t see. She found herself pushing against his hand, trying to take him in. He held her firmly with his other hand, pressing down on her clit.

“Just relax, honey.” He slipped his fingers out of her and nudged his cockhead against her anus. Easy for him to say. And yet she did. And slowly he edged inside, stretching her, pushing. He rubbed her clit softly, and she felt her womb clench, wanting more in every way. As his finger traced little circles on her clit, the tension in her grew. And he slipped farther in, filling her until she felt his pubic bone press against her cheeks. She’d never felt so full.

He pressed down on her clit and squeezed her nipple, and everything exploded at once. Her pussy and ass contracted, her tummy flipped, her arms felt weak. Her legs shivered. He hardly moved inside her as waves of pleasure rolled through her body.

And then, as they subsided, he drew back, and she moaned. She hadn’t been sure she’d wanted him there, but now that he was filling her, she didn’t want him to leave.

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Sindra van Yssel

Slowly, he slid back and then forward again. Back and forward. Not hard and rough, the way he’d taken her pussy the night before. But each fraction of an inch he moved was intense. She rocked back against him. His fingers felt rougher, somehow, on her breasts and her belly. Her skin felt more alive, tingling.