Stockholm Syndrome (13 page)

She undid the zipper of her shorts and peeled them down her
body. Then she eased off her thong and stepped out of both, quickly retrieving
them and putting them on the chair with her vest. She turned awkwardly to Mason,
fighting the urge to cover herself with her hands.

He was sprawled in the chair, his turgid cock tenting the
front of his shorts. She stepped toward him, thinking that if he would just
touch her, she’d feel less self-conscious, but he waved her away.

“No. Get up on the table. Lie on your back.”

She gaped at him.

“Are you going to question everything I say to you?”

“If I think you’re insane, yes!”

“I’m many things, Evelyn, but I’m not insane. I know exactly
what we both want. Now. Get. Up. On. The. Table.”

She retreated until her ass brushed against the white
tablecloth, then hoisted herself up so that she was sitting on it, her legs
dangling.

“Wiggle back and lie down. Move that bowl of ice cream to
the side.”

Flushing crimson, she did as he said, feeling awkward and
exposed as she maneuvered herself. When she was far back enough to rest her
feet on the snowy linen, she lay back, crossing her arms over her breasts and
pressing her legs together. The table was hard against her back, and she stared
up at the ceiling in a resentful fume, aroused, embarrassed, and annoyed. Mason
didn’t speak or move, but she imagined that she could feel him studying her
body, and the thought made her squirm.

“Well, what now?” she demanded. “This isn’t exactly the most
comfortable surface to lie on, so I’d appreciate it if you’d get on with
whatever you intend to do!”

He chuckled. “Very well. I’ll get on with it then.”

He rose to his feet and came to stand next to the table, at
her side, and looked her over. He didn’t comment on how she’d folded her arms,
but he seemed amused. He propped his elbows on the table next to her head and
leaned over to capture her mouth with his, probing her lips open with his
tongue. It was their only point of contact, but fire burned along her veins as
the smell and taste of him flooded her senses. Her eyelids closed as he rubbed
his tongue over hers, so intimately, and her awareness of the hard table
beneath her faded.

A few minutes later he lifted his head and smiled, his
beautiful pale-green eyes darkening as his pupils dilated with lust.

“See, Evvy? There are much better uses for your mouth than
arguing and questioning.”

Before she could think of a suitably scathing reply, he
straightened and gently lifted her arms away from her breasts, stretching them
out above her head.

“You must leave your arms up like this now. Don’t thrash
around or you’ll knock our ice creams off the table.” He returned to his
position at her side.

She craned her head around, trying to see where the second
bowl of ice cream was, then jerked it back when his lips closed around her
nipple. Sensation tore from her breast to her cunt as he suckled the rucked
peak. She arched her back helplessly, pushing up her breasts, and he opened his
mouth wide, drawing in as much of her flesh as he could, rubbing the puckered
tip with his tongue. While he captured her attention with his sucking, he
reached for her hair, wrapping strands of the luxurious silk around his hand,
pulling lightly and securing her in position for his delectation.

With his other hand, he cupped the neglected breast,
pinching the tip with his fingers. The double stimulation racked her body, and
her legs strained open involuntarily.

He released her breast and swept his hand in a long caress
down her torso to her cunt where he parted her sopping curls and fingered the
length of her cleft. Her desire had overtaken her rapidly—hot, urgent, and
intense—coating her thickly with slick cream. Without ceremony, he plunged two
fingers into her hot channel. She jerked frantically against his hand. Her
orgasm was so close…

But he was determined to torture her.

“Oh, little drama queen,” he rasped, “you’re so ready for me
to fuck you.”

Even his voice made her quiver. It was gravelly and low,
strained with sexual tension, an unadorned expression of male lust.

“But it’s too soon,” he went on, parting his fingers inside
her, stretching her channel. “You’re supposed to be my dessert. Dessert has to
be savored slowly, not gobbled up in one bite. We have to make the sweetness
last.”

She moaned. Oh, she
wished
he’d gobble her up. He
could be as quick and greedy as he liked as long as she could come!

But he withdrew his fingers and trailed them up her body
again, leaving cool streaks of her own juices across her stomach.

“Hmm, let’s see.” He teased her nipple, and she wriggled. He
was being much too gentle. “I really like homemade ice cream.” He released his
grip on her hair and picked up the nearest bowl, scooping a large dollop of the
treat onto the spoon. Her eyes widened and she forgot to breathe as he held it
against her nipple until her body’s warmth eased it from the utensil. The
sensitive tip contracted so tightly that the resulting spasm in her pussy made
her sob. He let the vanilla cream run slowly down her skin before bending his
head and licking it off. When his lips closed over her areola, the heat and
suction set off another wave of contractions in her core. He added more ice cream,
and still more, until the pleasure-pain became so intense that she begged him
for mercy with wordless sounds. He finished by licking her whole breast clean
with long sweeps of his tongue.

When he was satisfied with her state of abject, whimpering
arousal, he paced slowly around the table, giving her plenty of time to
anticipate what he was planning for her other breast.

But he stopped between her splayed legs and looked at her
dripping pussy.

“We need something…” He glanced around then picked up a
thick white candle. He blew out the flame and pulled it from its candlestick.
The base was smooth with slightly rounded edges.

He spread her labia and eased the end of the candle into her
channel. She bucked and jerked her hips at the unexpected invasion of the rigid
length of wax.

“Shh, just relax, Evvy,” he whispered. “This will hold you
nicely open, and keep you stretched until I’m ready to fuck you.”

She felt the unbending hardness penetrate her cunt, deeper
and deeper, reshaping her inner walls. Her muscles bore down on it, resisting,
but he pushed it inexorably inward until it reached her limit. He slowly
twisted it from side to side, screwing her with it, causing a strange hollow,
pulling sensation deep inside, and she flung her legs open, writhing and
gyrating helplessly, vaguely aware of his smile as he toyed with her.

She didn’t care. At that moment, he could do
anything
to her pussy, and she wouldn’t mind as long as he kept driving her toward
climax. She was open to him, exposed, waiting for him to fill her in any way he
chose.

He left the candle embedded in her cunt and completed his
circuit around the table, to spoon ice cream onto her other nipple. The cool
rivulets of vanilla trickled over her skin, and his nimble tongue pursued each
one and mopped it clean, leaving tingling trails in its wake. Then he raised
the jug of hot chocolate sauce and held it high above her breast, letting it
drip, drip, drip onto her puckered flesh. She cried out at the contrast of hot
and cold, and cried again as he sucked, sometimes softly, sometimes powerfully,
until she thought she could stand no more.

But he understood her limits better than she did. He filled
her belly button, alternating between the sweet treats, and slurped it out.
Then he overfilled it with ice cream.

“Now keep very still, Evvy. You are not allowed to spill. I
will punish you if you do.”

His words sent a frisson down her spine. What would he do?
What more
could
he possibly do?

***

Mason left her belly button brimming with rapidly melting
ice cream, and moved between her legs, spooning ice cream into his mouth and
smiling to himself. Of course she was going to spill it, he’d made sure of it.
But the punishment would just be playful. He hadn’t intended to fuck her
tonight, hadn’t scripted a scene for her, but her heated stares throughout
dinner had been too blatant. And there was no incentive to resist, in this game
they were playing.

Spreading her labia wide, he set his mouth to her clit, and
she shrieked at the icy touch of his lips. He sucked the sensitive bud of
nerves into his mouth and oscillated it rapidly with the tip of his tongue. Her
back bowed, and he saw the trickles of ice cream running down her sides. She’d
messed already.

He changed his hold on her labia so that he was spreading
her open with one hand and licking at her between the vee of his fingers. He
used the other hand to manipulate the candle, sliding it slowly in and out with
twisting strokes as he flicked and sucked her clit. Her body primed itself for
orgasm and she lifted her knees, spreading her legs as wide as she could,
straining open. But he lifted his head seconds before she could reach
completion.

He paused for a moment, assessing her arousal, then trailed
his fingers lower, spreading her natural lubricants from her pussy to her ass,
pushing one leg up so that he could caress the little puckered hole. He circled
it three times, and she made no protest, so he pressed the tip of his
forefinger against the tight sphincter until it gave under the pressure, and
his finger slid inside to the first joint.

As he’d expected, she jumped as if scalded and then froze.

“Mason, don’t… I can’t… I… I’ve never…”

“Shhh, it’s okay, Evvy. It’s just the tip of my finger,
nothing more. Let me leave it there for a minute.”

He was patient. Her anal virginity would be his, but he’d
have to prepare her, and now was not the time. He returned his mouth to her
clit, using all his skill to bring her to the peak of desperation. When she was
undulating on the table like a wave, mindless with need, he stepped away.

“Look how you’ve messed the ice cream. This is your
punishment, Evvy. Now you’re not allowed to come until I do. I’m going to fuck
you, and you have to wait for me.”

Already stripping off his clothes, he ignored her
inarticulate protests. In a matter of moments, he stood naked, his cock huge
and throbbing, desperate to sink into her cunt.

He removed the candle, and it came out coated in her cream.
He stared at her passion-flushed face and ran it slowly, deliberately across
his tongue, from end to end, savoring her sweet, tangy taste and enjoying the
way her eyes widened in shock at the blatant carnality of his action.

He tossed it aside, grabbed her ankles, and pulled her down
the table toward him, tablecloth and all. Glass shattered as the remaining
tableware scattered, and she brought her arms down from above her head but he
didn’t care. He lined up her ass with the edge of the table and propped her legs
up against his shoulders, granting himself unrestricted access to her succulent
pussy. Thinking what a beautiful sight she was, arranged for his indulgence, he
positioned his cock against her opening. She squirmed, trying to sink onto his
flesh, but he grasped her hips and held her firmly, restraining her movements.
She grasped his wrists, slim fingers wrapping ’round, nails sinking into his
skin.

“Tell me what you want, Evvy,” he gritted out between
clenched teeth. “Ask me for it.”

Her mouth gaped for a moment, but she was too far gone to
resist his command, and she gasped the sweet words.

“I want your cock, Mason. Please fuck me. Please make me
come!”

The last word ended on rising moan as he drove himself into
her, squeezing his eyes shut and arching his back as he fought the urge to
climax on the very first stroke. She was so tight and hot, and he was so
aroused, it took every ounce of self-control to hold himself in check. As
always, he marveled that she had the capacity to take him all, right up to the
root, since she was so small and he so large. The fact that she could do so
excited the hell out of him, pandering to his primitive urge to fill her and
possess every inch of her.

He worked himself in and out, anointing his flesh with her
juices until he was slithering easily within her constricting grip. Her
abundant tits jiggled in time with his thrusts, and he had the overwhelming
urge to suckle them deeply as he rode her. He bent forward, pleased to discover
she was flexible enough for him to lean over between her legs and capture her
bobbing nipples, one by one, with his mouth while she lay folded in half under
him, helpless and unresisting. Melted ice cream slicked their skin together. He
felt his orgasm approaching, unstoppable this time, and arched his body so that
his cock pushed against the front wall of her vagina, stimulating her G-spot.

Her panting became a frenzied whine, and he knew she was
very close. Pistoning his hips, feeling the heat gathering in his pelvis, he
held on as long as he could.

“Now, Evvy. Come now! Give it to me, baby!”

Disjointed spasms tightened her channel convulsively around
his bursting cock, and he exploded into her with a guttural shout of triumph.
On and on he spurted, coming harder and longer than he could ever remember.

***

He carried Evelyn out of the dining room so that she wouldn’t
cut her feet on the glass they’d broken then returned to sweep up the mess.
When it was clear, they carried the last dishes to the kitchen, threw away the
candle, and put the stained and crumpled tablecloth into the laundry. They did
all this naked, laughing, too sticky to put their clothes on. Then he walked
her to her bedroom door.

“Go take a shower then get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a
busy day.”

She nodded. “Thanks for dinner, Mason. I’ve never done
anything so kinky, but I liked it.” She blushed.