The Night Off (7 page)

She spread her legs, shuddering when Nat eased back, tilted her head, and studied her obscenely wet sex with interest. “So pretty,” Nat murmured, running her fingers over her labia. “Such a pretty, pink,
wet
cunt.” She checked Emily’s face as she said the words, smiling at whatever she saw there. “Remember, slut, that you are
not
allowed to come. No matter what I do. No matter how badly you want to.”

The words elicited another shudder. That was an extremely tall order. All it would take was the slightest bit of stimulation and she would orgasm. She knew her body well enough to realize that holding off her climax would be impossible. But she also knew she couldn’t tell Nat “no” again.

“I understand, mistress. I’ll…try my best.”

Nat removed her hand from Emily’s pussy and dragged her wet fingers across Emily’s mouth. “You’ll do better than that, my darling. Or I’ll make you sorry.”

Emily would have more faith in her ability to obey if Nat would only stop being so damn
hot
—and intimidating. Despite her doubts, she said, “Yes, mistress.”

“Excellent.” Nat crawled between her thighs, lying on her belly. She used her hands to press Emily’s knees apart, then stroked her thumbs along sensitive, exposed folds. “You have such a tight little cunt…I need to prepare you for my big, hard cock.” She lowered her face and planted a gentle kiss on her labia. “You’re going to taste so fucking nice, aren’t you?”

“Oh, God,” Emily whispered at the touch of Nat’s tongue against her clit. It was too much already—she would never be able to withstand an oral assault.

Nat didn’t say anything, just pressed in farther and ran her tongue up and down the length of her sex. When Nat stopped to suck gently on her distended clit, the pleasure literally brought tears to Emily’s eyes.

“Oh.” Emily gasped. “Oh, please stop.” She cried out in relief when Nat released her clit, then keened at the sting of a soft hand slapping her aroused sex.

“You don’t tell me to stop.” Nat lowered her face, lapping at her in defiance. “You don’t
ever
tell me stop, do you understand? Your pussy is
mine
.” With one last suck of her clit, Nat trailed her tongue down to Emily’s opening, then pushed inside. Her other hand found the base of the anal plug, wiggling it gently.

The combined stimulus was almost too much. Hips bucking in pleasure, Emily fought not to give in to her wrenching need. Nat was testing her and she so badly wanted not to fail. Surely Nat would relent soon. She had to realize that everyone had her limit, and Emily was teetering right at the edge of hers. “Yes, mistress.” Emily let out a sob of relief when Nat pulled back, then wailed in despair as her hot tongue again circled her clit. “Oh, God, mistress. I…I can’t—”

“But you must.” Nat grinned up at her, looking so handsome Emily had to curl her toes to forcibly chase away her climax. She slithered her tongue through Emily’s wetness, paused long enough to raise an eyebrow, then licked her again. “You
must
be strong. Don’t come. Don’t let me do this to you.”

Emily yanked against the restraints as Nat continued to lick and suck without mercy. She wouldn’t be able to stop herself if Nat kept going like this, and there was nothing she could do about that. The harder she struggled, the stronger Nat’s grip on her hips became, the more unrelenting her tongue. Her thighs quaked uncontrollably as she fought to twist out of Nat’s steel hold.

“No, oh fuck, no, no, no,” Emily moaned. She wished her hands were free, that she could use them to grab onto Nat’s head and force her mouth away. The sight of Nat kissing her so intimately was just too much,
too much
, so she slammed her eyes closed because it was the only thing she could do. “No, no, no,” she whispered. “You need to…or I’ll…
fuck
, mistress,
stop
. Please.
Please
.”

And then Nat’s fingers were inside her, stretching her open, and she knew Nat wouldn’t stop. She was going to force her to come—force her to disobey, to fail. Emily’s eyes stung, tears burning their way to the front. Nat’s hot, wet mouth was the single most exquisite thing she’d ever felt. Sweat dripped between her breasts, down her neck, as Nat stole the last bit of her control. Orgasm was inevitable.

With a hoarse cry, Emily surrendered. Her hips jerked harshly against Nat’s face, her body’s betrayal triggering a mixture of shame and elation that shattered her. She’d never known this kind of pleasure existed, that another person could make her feel like she was dying—and loving every second of it. She was only dimly aware of how expertly Nat’s fingers were stroking her, or how loving her mouth seemed as it explored every inch of her pulsating flesh.

When Emily came down from her peak, she tried to pull away from Nat, who clung to her insistently and continued to feast. Now it really was too much—
just too goddamn much
—and she knew that she could utter one word and end the exquisite torment, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She didn’t want this to end.

Finally Nat released her, leaving her with one last, lingering lick. Emily’s stomach muscles twitched and she shuddered as the tension finally eased. Hot tears snaked over her temples and disappeared into her sweat-soaked hair. Her entire body buzzed with the rush of long-absent endorphins.

Thoroughly wrecked, she didn’t have the presence of mind to wonder what would happen next until Nat climbed on top of her body and settled between her still-spread thighs. The hard length of the dildo slid against her oversensitive folds, nudging her back into awareness. Nat grabbed hold of her cuffed wrists, still tethered to the bed, and held them against the mattress.

“You are a
very
,
very
naughty girl.” Nat shifted her hips, dragging the dildo through Emily’s wetness. Then she released one of Emily’s wrists, reached between their bodies, and guided the bulbous head to her opening. “I told you not to come.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily whispered, then cried out as Nat thrust inside her—slowly at first, driving the cock home in one torturous motion. Breathless, Emily arched beneath her and whimpered, “Mistress.”

“How should I punish you?” Nat seized Emily’s wrist again, pinning her to the bed. She rocked her hips, withdrawing the cock, then forcing it in deeper. “Like this? Fucking you? Should I make you beg me to stop?” Her thrusts increased in strength and tempo, bringing fresh tears to Emily’s eyes. “I could fuck you like this all night.”

Oh, it was wonderful. Being filled by Nat, taken, used like the horny slut she often fantasized playacting—miles away from the responsible adult she’d had to be for most of her life. Wishing she could wrap her arms around Nat’s back, Emily had to content herself with pressing her lips to Nat’s shoulder instead. “Yes, mistress.
Fuck
, mistress.”

And then Nat stopped moving. Emily cried out in alarm, rocking against her in a futile attempt to keep their rhythm going. Nat simply held her down more firmly. Exhausted, she gave up, accepting that she was at Nat’s mercy.

Nat brought her mouth to Emily’s ear. “But you
like
being fucked, don’t you? The way you’re squirming beneath me, this seems less like discipline and more like giving you
exactly
what you want.”

Emily’s heart thundered at the implication of Nat’s words. Was she going to
stop
? Not knowing how to respond, Emily stayed quiet. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing, to lose this contact. The thought of having Nat pull out and leave made her want to burst into tears.

Lifting her head, Nat took deep, slow breaths and allowed the silence to stretch out between them. She seemed to search Emily’s eyes as Emily searched hers, and Emily’s chest swelled, because this was the closest she had felt to another human being, ever. The realization stunned her into silence.

“Should I stop?” Nat murmured.

Emily shook her head, trying not to look as panicked as the question made her feel. She never wanted this closeness to end. “Please, no.”

Nat raised an eyebrow.

“No, mistress.” She corrected herself in a whisper.

“Why?”

Emily bit her lip hard, fighting back her emotion. Trying to explain how Nat was giving her something so much bigger than physical pleasure would make her sound crazy. Or pathetic. Struggling to articulate, she said, “Because…I don’t want you to, mistress.”

“Because you like this?” Pulling back with her hips, Nat retreated, then slowly filled her up again. “You like that?” When Emily nodded, Nat murmured, “Then say it.”

“I like it, mistress, when you fuck me.”

Nat stilled. “With my cock.”

With no pride left, Emily said, “I like it when you fuck me with your cock.”

“So ask me for it.”

Earlier Nat had said she’d make her beg. Clearly she knew what she was doing. Lowering her gaze, Emily said, “Fuck me, mistress. Please,
please
fuck me.” More than being fucked, she needed this close human connection, the heavy weight of Nat’s body on hers. If she had to grovel to prolong this moment, she would do so gladly. “Don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop.”

Nat’s expression softened, and Emily sensed that Nat had recognized the sincere desperation in her words. Rather than be embarrassed, she felt dizzy with relief. All at once, she was sure of at least one thing—Nat wouldn’t stop. Over the course of the evening, she had developed a deep trust that this handsome stranger always did the right thing. And now Nat knew that stopping wasn’t the right thing, right now.

As though reading her mind, Nat released her grip on Emily’s wrists and undid one cuff, then the other. Surprised by the sudden turn of events, Emily didn’t dare move, unsure what Nat expected from her. Nat slipped an arm beneath her shoulders, pulled her closer, and said, “Put your hands on me.”

Finally given permission to do the very thing she’d been burning to do, Emily wasted no time. She wrapped her arms around Nat’s strong back and clutched her shoulders, hanging on tight. Her hands acted as an anchor, keeping her tethered safely in the moment. The fear of losing this feeling vanished, replaced by the unbelievable joy of savoring every second of it.

Nat kissed her gently, then whispered, “I’m not going to stop. Not until we both come.”

The quiet promise made Emily’s pussy contract, sending waves of pleasure deep into her womb. The small toy buried in her ass only intensified the sensations. Whether Nat began to move or not, Emily knew she wouldn’t last long. Aware she was probably pushing her luck, Emily lifted her head and sought another kiss.

Nat returned the kiss immediately, gathering Emily in her arms and rocking her hips to work the thick toy against ever-increasing resistance. Emily slid one hand from Nat’s sweat-slicked back to cradle her head, no longer worried about playing her part. They had obviously deviated from the script, but she didn’t care. She was acting from her gut now.

Nat broke their kiss. “You feel so good,” she rasped. Her hips sped up, each and every hard thrust pushing Emily closer to the edge. “I’m going to come inside you, sweet Emily. Sweet, sweet girl.”

The desire in Nat’s voice brought Emily to sudden, screaming climax. The internal contractions, the embarrassing rush of hot juices, the way her entire body quaked—the strength of all those things surprised her, even though she’d known orgasm was coming. But what shocked her the most were the
noises
she made: uninhibited, full-throated, and distinctly feminine. She’d never heard anything like it from her own mouth. It was as though she was truly someone else tonight.

Nat came up on her hands, biceps flexing, and pumped twice more into her, then stiffened and groaned her own release. Vision blurring, Emily stroked her hand over Nat’s shaved hair and enjoyed the sight of pure satisfaction playing across her face. If she’d felt a connection with Nat before, it was nothing compared to now. Seeing Nat unguarded and lost in pleasure felt so uniquely special, it left her breathless.

As Nat’s body relaxed, a grim reality swept over Emily. Nat felt nothing uniquely special about this encounter. It was just another business transaction. She was just another client. And even if tonight had seemed somehow transformative, allowing her a glimpse of what it meant to truly surrender, none of this was real. Nat was a prostitute, not her lover. The single most intimate experience of her life, and she’d had to pay for it.

Emily’s throat tightened as she choked back a sob. Her stomach churned at the thought of breaking down in front of Nat, but as hard as she tried to hold back the tears, the night had shattered her normally iron hold on her control. Turning her head to the side, she closed her eyes and tried not to let Nat see just how weak she really was.

“Hey.” Nat’s husky voice, tinged with worry, unleashed a renewed flood of tears. She ran her hand across Emily’s cheek, coaxing her to face forward. “Emily, hey. Don’t cry.”

Emily shook her head and tried to laugh but it came out all wrong, and she just sounded so pathetically sad. Fresh humiliation washed over her, and this time there was nothing arousing about it. “I’m sorry.” In a desperate attempt to swing the evening back toward normal, she opened her eyes and whispered, “I’m so sorry, mistress.”

Nat blinked. “Unicorn.”

The confusion on Emily’s face mirrored what Nat was feeling inside. She’d never used the safe word with a client before. Ever. Not only had she never stopped a scene, but she’d only ever had one woman make that choice with her. Usually Nat did an excellent job of staying safely within individual limits, which allowed the safe word to remain a mere formality. The idea of breaking scene had rarely crossed her mind in the past, and she’d never even come close to succumbing to the notion. To say she was shocked didn’t begin to describe her state of mind—especially because she’d chosen to disrupt her client’s fantasy when Emily had been making a valiant effort to stay in character.

But Emily was different. That was the only way to explain why she kept upsetting years of routine for this woman. This wasn’t the first time she had reduced a woman to tears, but watching a stranger’s emotional release had never before elicited such an intense answering reaction. When she saw real sadness in Emily’s eyes—and not just the usual post-euphoric explosion of emotion—Nat’s immediate impulse was to protect her. To comfort her. Maybe even make her smile.