House Rules (13 page)

"I imagined this all day, baby."

Silent until now, his soft voice shatters me. I buck, the muscles of my ass pushing and sucking to quickly draw the last of the probe inside me. I cry out, climaxing and trying to ride his fingers and the toy before the sensation cuts off.

"That's it, baby."

Luke waits patiently until my hips cease their wild jerks. I feel him searching for the pump. He finds it and places it in my hand -- letting me control it. I hear him squirt more lube. Anticipation cuts deep into my skin. I am more than wet enough for his cock. No lube is necessary.

Or so I think. Fingers -- not his cock -- ease into me. Three at first, then a fourth. He is knuckle deep again. His palm narrows and then it is more than just his four fingers inside me. I suck a deep breath in and a shudder rolls through my body.

"Can you handle more, Marie."

It is the same question he asked me at the bench. I whisper a shaky yes, nodding as I do so. He is pushing me toward something sensation by sensation. I don't know what it is, but I trust him.

His fingers rotate inside me. Another tremor wracks my body. I have not squeezed the pump in my hand -- not once. I don't know if I can. Another rotation and a throaty sob leaves me. I can cry all I want -- I know this. He will not stop until I say my safe word.

A final rotation and he is all the way inside me -- fingers, thumb, palm. My clit pulls tight and refuses to relax. The tension increases with each contraction.

"The pump, baby."

The pump -- fuck yes. I give it a small pump, pushing only half the air in the bulb into the probe. Pleasure contorts through me -- ass, clit, cunt, even my nipples. My breasts hang heavy and swollen, sweat drips from my flesh, gathering at the tips of my nipples before it drops to the floor. I give another pump. My stomach tenses, the tilt of my ass shifting ever so slightly higher.

Inside me, his hand pushes forward like a plunger being depressed. Deeper and deeper he goes. His knuckles brush against something and I dissolve. My climax convulses through me. Pleasure, hot and liquid, squirts from me, wetting my thighs and the chair and the floor.

I cry, laugh, squirt again until I am barely conscious.

Slowly, Luke eases from me. The probe follows. I doubt I can walk but I don't have to. He wraps an arm around my waist, lifting and moving my body until I am cradled in his impossibly strong arms.

He carries me to the bed and places me center of the mattress. He kisses and strokes my body, his touch gentle everywhere it lands.

"So beautiful, baby. So fucking beautiful."

His admiration echoing inside my head, Luke leaves the bed. I hear water running in the bathroom. When he returns, I hear him open a bottle of Perrier. He brings it to me, holding the bottle and cradling me as I drink. Where his body touches mine, it is flesh on flesh, both of us naked since he has shed the pajama bottoms.

When my tremors die down, he cuffs me. Right hand, then left, the process familiar and comforting. When his hand closes around my ankle, I tense. This is new -- my legs have always been free.

As if he can read my mind, Luke softly whispers. "Not tonight, baby."

Bound and blindfolded, a weight begins to settle on my chest. He finishes securing my ankles. I hear the drawer slide open then shut. His weight pushes at the mattress as he settles next to me. His hands stroke my labia then move down one thigh. Finding the top hem of my stocking, he pulls it away from my flesh. His hands work at something and, when he releases the fabric, I can feel two small, rubbery attachments have been clipped to them.

A second later, he secures two more clips, this time to the labia on that side of my body. He repeats the process with the other stocking. I cannot see, but I feel the constant gentle pull on the swollen folds of my sex and know that my lower lips are being held back by the clips and the fact that my legs are spread wide.

The next object to touch my skin is long, thin and metallic. Like the cuffs around my legs, this is new. The caning wand has stayed buried in the drawer until now. He had told me my first time in his bed that he would teach me these things when I was ready. My ass surrendered first to his toys, then my flesh to the flogger but not this. I am not certain I am ready.

Rising from the bed, Luke works his hand beneath my head then removes the blindfold. I look at him, my eyes slowly adjusting. His skin glows with a thin sheen of perspiration, light from the candles flickering like gold. His cock runs thick and rigid up his lower stomach to an inch below his navel. The muscles of his torso and arms ripple as he subconsciously flexes for my benefit.

He is sculpted perfection and the ache I feel when I see him like this hasn't lessened a single degree.

Slowly, he lowers the wand until I can just feel it against my nipple. "Do you feel in control, Marie?"

I am cuffed to the bed, every limb bound until he frees me. It takes only one word, but I cannot use it. I want him too badly, want to please him and take pleasure from him. The need holds my tongue. "No," I confess.

"Are you afraid?"

"No." I answer too quickly, before the question can fully filter through my mind. When it does, when the question really sinks in and takes root, I realize the answer is the same. I am not afraid because it is Luke.

The wand, when it strikes my flesh, will bring more than just the sting of metal. Like the flogger, it will make everywhere it touches more sensitive. My muscles will heat from its bite, my nipples will constrict. Everything will draw tighter to increase my pleasure.

Meeting Luke's gaze, I offer him my absolute trust. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes drift shut. His tongue pushes between his lips to wet the bottom center. Inhaling, he slowly sucks the lip and holds it between his teeth. I look from his face to the fat head of his cock. He has been in a state of full arousal for more than half an hour, his hands and mouth consumed with his attending to my pleasure. Pre-cum oozes from the slit at top and runs down his cock like the stream of a single tear.

My chest constricts painfully at the sight. Reciprocated or not, I love this man. I will, it seems, lose him by the morning, but tonight he is mine and I am his. I look back to his face, my gaze hooked and my heart waiting for him to open his eyes.

When he does, it is my face he first looks at. He nods faintly, as if we are both agreeing to something that hasn't been discussed. I don't know what it is, but I nod back. He moves one step to his right and the wand begins to strike lightly against my thighs. Although the area struck by the wand is more confined than the flogger, my skin heats and tingles more quickly from the rapid tapping of it against my flesh.

I want to squirm and wiggle as my cunt begins to knot, but I force myself to remain still. Luke moves with precision, heating both my thighs. Not missing a beat, the first strike against my breast lands. The impact is lighter but the strikes come faster as he moves toward my areola. With his attention and the cane focused on my breasts, my hips begin to move. My ass presses hard against the mattress. My thighs flex and relax in time to the taps from the cane. I moan when he stops, moan louder when he bends at the waist and sucks one sore, swollen nipple into his mouth.

Putting the cane aside for the moment, his hand grips my pussy and begins to massage my labia. He strokes my clit as he tongues the other nipple. His fingers fuck into me fast and hard in rough contrast to the gentle licks and bits around my breast. I arch, all four limbs straining against the cuffs.

"Not yet, baby." His fingers take one last stroke against my clit before he grabs the cane again.

Moving to the foot of the bed, Luke climbs onto the mattress and kneels between my spread legs. He stares at my pussy -- the lips held back by the rubbery clamps attached to my stockings, the flesh sopping wet from my arousal and the lube he used to fist deep into my cunt.

My clit bobs with the contractions running through me. Luke lightly drags the tip of the cane down the length of my shaft until he reaches the hood. He pushes the dangle left, then right. The strike lands before I realize it has begun. I jerk, my body electrified by the contact of the thin metal strip against the highly sensitive flesh.

He strikes again, the hits targeting my thick labia and along the hard ridge of my clit. When I am moaning and bouncing against the mattress with fresh arousal, he returns to my nipples, the force a little harder than when he first brought them to swollen peaks. Caning my breasts, he fingers my pussy. My hands curl into fists. I try to draw my knees up as the tension keeps folding inward, like a star collapsing under its own density.

He brings the cane back down to my pussy in a fast dance of metal and flesh.

"Please!" I beg him to let me come, the faint, flashing pain the cane brings just enough to push me back from the edge of my release.

Luke tosses the cane aside. He palms my mound, his thumb pressing and wiggling against my clit as he fucks three fingers from the other hand deep into my pussy. I am close, so close that I am screaming my need when he withdraws his fingers.

He covers me, his chest pushing against my breasts as he holds his cock steady with one hand and sinks its full length into my cunt. I am swollen inside, the tissue and muscles battered from his earlier invasion. Thrusting into me a second time, he buries his face against my throat. He kisses, bite and licks from shoulder to ear as he uses his entire body to fuck in and out of my cunt.

The fat head drags through me, hitting new pleasure centers. With my labia still held open by the clips, I can feel the hard rub of his lower abdominals against my clit. I want to wrap my arms around him and dig my nails into his flesh, securing him to me until we are both locked in the spasm of release. But I am bound and at his mercy.

I come first, jerking and crying. No words, just guttural polysyllables twisted and bent by my orgasm. I squirt, making my already sopping pussy wetter so that his cock thrusts in and out of me with thick squelching noises.

Luke moans, grinds, and then his teeth are denting the skin along my jawline as he freezes. His cock jerks inside me, hard upward recoils as semen shoots through his shaft. Only when the last spurt releases does the bite turn to a kiss.

Panting, he pushes up on his elbows. Not meeting my questioning gaze, he rests his forehead against the center of my chest, just below where the clavicles end. His legs shift so that his weight is on his knees and his torso is off me. His hands caress my sides as a he slowly backs off the bed. He kisses me as he goes, a breast, the swell of my stomach, the top of my mound.

He pauses to remove the clips then he is off the bed. The ankle cuffs come off. Still looking anywhere but at my face, he massages them until he is certain that the blood flow is fully restored. He climbs back onto the bed and straddles me, his cock and balls heavy as they rest against my chest so he can lean forward and free my hands.

He moves until he is straddling my hips, then massages each arm.

I close my eyes. There is no point keeping them open -- he won't look at me.

"Luke…" I whisper his name, but my pain is audible.

His weight pushes down at me again. His hands roam my body. He strokes a shoulder, nuzzles my neck, kisses just below my ear. Each gesture hurts more than the cane ever could.

This is good-bye. I know it.

I do not consciously move a muscle but every inch of me is moving. I am shaking as I try to hold the tears back. My mind searches for the moment I wrongly convinced myself this was more than a good-bye fuck. I remember the intimacy of his tongue and lips, the domination of his fist inside me. Yes, those two points had fooled me.

"Baby, you're not listening."

He is right. Yet again, my thoughts are drowning out the rich timbre of his voice. I suck a sobbing breath in and hold it until I can shape the words without my emotions jackhammering them into something incomprehensible. "What did you say?"

He rubs his nose against mine. "I love you."

He loves me?

Several long seconds pass while I repeat the phrase inside my head. It is slippery, elusive, and I'm not sure I have it correct.

Luke Masters loves me…

"Don't be rude, love." He admonishes me with a light chuckle but I can hear the tension in his laugh.

I ponder the new information. I am being rude, but how? Right -- he said he loved me. He meant it. I haven't said anything in return. I wrap my arms around his head and kiss him. I kiss him again, more than once -- the words and the kisses colliding against one another.

"I love you," I say, my lips against his cheek, his temple, and finally his mouth. "I love you."

When I am all kissed out, Luke cups my face. His gaze and expression are solemn, hurt even. "You weren't really going to leave me tomorrow, were you?"

Crying, I nod. "You didn't ask me to stay."

His bottom lip bobs, almost a quiver, and then he shakes it off. For a long minute, he says nothing. I realize he is hard again. Reaching down, he grabs my leg and tugs until I am open. His mouth presses against my neck, sucking above the line of a vein, and he slowly pushes into me. When he is fully embedded, he braces his hands against the sides of my face and looks at me.

"Stay with me, love."