A soft rope touched my lips. “This is for your right leg,” he said.
I kissed the rope. “Tie my right leg, Master.”
He pulled my right leg and tied the rope around it. Another rope touched my mouth. “Left leg,” he said.
I pressed my lips against it. “Please bind my left leg, Master.”
Like before, he used the rope to bind my leg. He repeated the action two more times—first with my right arm and then with my left. Each time, he put the rope to my lips for me to kiss. Each time, I asked him to tie me.
When he was finished, I lay spread-eagle on the table.
His hands ran from my shoulders, down my breasts, across my belly, and came to rest between my legs.
A long finger slipped inside. He added a second. I forced my hips to remain still.
“Your body recognizes me,” he said, feeling the evidence of my need. “It knows its master.”
I was nearly panting for him; there was no point in arguing.
Besides, I learned that lesson the hard way.
“Close your eyes, Abigail. We’re going to try something again.”
I had a good idea of what he was going to do.
“No vocalizing until I say,” he said.
I sucked in a breath at the first pass of the Wartenberg wheel. Like before, he used one to start with—running it lightly across my chest, avoiding my nipples entirely. Then he added a second and worked them in unison, running opposite each other. They crossed my body, each a perfect mirror of the other, each coming close to a nipple and then rolling away again. I realized immediately when I’d moaned, and after a week of punishment, I wasn’t about to mess up again. My body shook as the wheels rolled over my nipples, but I remained silent.
“Very good, Abigail. Shall I continue?”
I caught myself seconds before I answered. He gave a short laugh. “I do believe one time is all it will ever take for you. Be still.”
The wheels rolled down my body lightly. The sensation was odd—when he ran them both in parallel, it almost felt as if I were being unzipped. Then they separated and ran over my pelvic bones, and I caught my breath and held completely still. The spiked wheels came right to my sensitive flesh before rolling away.
I was going to go mad while tied to his table, and I hoped he didn’t touch me there at all. My senses were so heightened, so on edge, a mere touch would send me into an earth-shattering release.
I panicked for a second. What if he wanted me to climax without permission? What if he decided to test me to see how long I could hold out? I couldn’t do it, not after almost six days of denial.
Oh, fuck. I am going to fail. Again.
Should I use my yellow safe word?
He must have sensed my worry because the wheels stopped. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes, Master, I think so.”
“You think so? Think so isn’t good enough. Open your eyes. What’s wrong?”
His hands were at my feet and ankles, checking the ropes.
“It’s not the ropes,” I said. “It’s me.”
“Are you in pain?” he asked, worry clouding his expression as his hands reached my arms.
“No, Master. I’m just afraid.”
He quickly untied the ropes binding me to the table, and I felt silly for causing him undue alarm.
“It’s nothing, really,” I said.
“Sit up. Tell me.”
I sighed and pulled myself up, swung my legs over the edge of the table. “I thought for a moment I was going to orgasm, and while I was working on holding it back, I thought maybe you wanted me to fail. Wanted me to come without permission.”
“And you panicked?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t want you to fail,” he said slowly. “I wanted to show you how much you’d grown from the last time we tried something similar. I know you’re on edge. I feel that.” He stroked my cheek. “I told you. I know your body.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“Don’t ever apologize for being honest.”
He stood for a minute, thinking. Both his hands were on either side of my legs as he stared at the wall behind me. What I wouldn’t give to live inside his brain for a second.
Finally he looked up, his expression intense. “Your punishment has ended. Come when you wish.”
With that, he pulled himself up on the table, took my face in his hands, and kissed me. Pushing me back down, he came up over my body, pressing his weight on me.
Yes. Yes.
Relief swept over me, and I felt almost giddy. Then his hands were on me and the giddiness left as quickly as it came. Longing, desire, and need took over, and it didn’t take long for me to get right back to the spot I’d been seconds before. I imagined he felt the same—his erection was hard against my belly.
He pulled back, and I saw my answer in his dark eyes. He pushed my knees up and out so I was spread before him. Then he lifted my legs and put them around his waist, drawing me closer to him.
Neither of us moved. His cock barely brushed my entrance, and I resisted the urge to raise my hips to him. Instead, I enjoyed the delicious anticipation of almost having him inside me and knowing he soon would be.
Almost.
Almost.
He moved a fraction of an inch, pushing the head of his cock slightly into me.
Ah, yes.
The feel of him taking me was one I never grew tired of—how he stretched me and possessed me.
With one hard thrust, he pushed the rest of the way inside, and just like that, I came undone, climaxing around him.
He smiled wickedly. “All better now?”
“Oh, God,” I said, still awash in sensation. “Yes, Master.”
It was all he needed. He started a hard rhythm, thrusting into me repeatedly. Driving himself toward his own release. I’d been right—the week had been just as long for him—because it didn’t take long before he was twitching inside me, nearing orgasm.
His hand came between our bodies, and he ran a thumb around my clit. “Can you come again?” he asked, breathing heavily. “For me?”
He had been right earlier; my body knew its master. This time was no different. My swollen flesh responded at once, sending a new wave of pleasure through my body.
He groaned and released inside me.
We lay on the table for a few minutes, and I rejoiced once more in how it felt to have his pleasure-spent body on top of me. How my own release left me weak and rubbery. He trailed kisses up my body, coming to rest fully on me. When he made it to my mouth, he kissed me long and passionately.
“You need to go on to bed,” he finally said, and kissed me again briefly.
It was an odd request. I knew it couldn’t be after nine. Why did he want me to go to bed so early?
Maybe he planned on waking me in the middle of the night. After five days of no sex at all, it wouldn’t surprise me. Or maybe he had plans for a really long and intense day tomorrow.
Maybe both?
However, it wasn’t my place to guess, and whatever he had planned, I wanted to be ready.
“Good night, Master,” I said, slipping from the table and making my way to the door so I could go to my room.
“Good night, my lovely.”
Chapter Seventeen
—ABBY—
He didn’t wake me up.
I had thought he would—expected it, even. I lay awake for some time, listening for either the piano or his footfalls outside my door. Even when I finally closed my eyes, I told myself it was just for a brief rest. Surely he would take me at some point during the night.
I certainly hoped he would.
Instead, the alarm clock woke me up at six o’clock. Unless I was told differently, I needed to have breakfast ready and in the dining room at eight every Saturday and Sunday morning. Since I wanted to work out before cooking, I had set my alarm for six.