The Professional: Part 3 (The Game Maker 1.30) - Page 3

Never take this away. Boneless, hanging from my restraints, I soared--just as my release ripped through me in raw, shattering shock waves. Through clenched teeth, I keened my pleasure.

Tears streaked from my eyes as my sheath milked the dildo again and again. . . .

"Natalya?" I dimly heard Sevastyan calling. "Natalya!"

Calling for me? Where have I gone? Want to go there again.

Once the last of those shock waves had passed, I blinked, turning to him with a dreamy smile.

For some reason, my response made his eyes glint.

Then he rested his forehead on my shoulder, as if overwhelmed by what he'd discovered, as if this was more than he could believe. "Ty sozdana dlya menya." You were made for me. He licked sweat from my neck, nipping my skin as he ground his erection against me. At my ear, he said, "You were right--I've never seen anything more glorious."

He tossed the flogger aside and began running his hands all over me. The roughness of his calloused palms over my abused flesh made my toes curl.

When he unfastened the strap around my waist to remove the dildo, my inner muscles tightened around it, didn't seem to want to let go. He insistently tugged until it slipped out. Behind me, it too vanished.

"You like to display yourself, moya plohaya devchonka." My wicked girl. "Do you want to reveal more to them?"

I frowned--how much more could I possibly show them?--but nodded anyway.

I heard him rustling through items on the tool table. When he returned, he unfastened my left ankle restraint.

Had our audience eased the pace of their pleasures? Wondering what he had in store for me next?

Around my free leg, he wrapped a leather strap, using it like a sling to hoist my knee, until it was level with my waist. He fastened the strap to the same chain that secured my wrists above.

I was balanced on one foot, even more exposed and vulnerable to him, to others.

I heard his zipper descending. Now would he fuck me? Against the fiery skin of my thighs, I felt his length pulsing.

"Do you want them to see you?" He ran the damp head against the cleft of my battered ass. "Really see you. Inside?"

He reached around me to spread my lips. Even after all that had happened, blushes painted my skin. I could feel cool air on my entrance--could feel their desirous eyes centering on me there.

That didn't stop me from growing even wetter, from my lips swelling against his fingers.

He cupped me wholly. "Offer this to me," he commanded. "Present it."

I arched back as far as I could, jutting my ass against him.

"Very good." He pinched the tips of my nipples in reward, making me light-headed. "Do you want them to see you come again?" Before I could answer, he'd grabbed me, one hand below my raised knee, the other clutching my hip. With one sure thrust, he entered me from behind.

I moaned around the chain, already on the verge. I felt as if I'd never come at all, as if my arousal had been stoked for days with no release.

He gave me long, hard plunges that jostled my body. My breasts bounced, my trapped nipples screaming each time the chain tightened.

As he drove into me, he grated, "You thought I was going out to find another woman that day you spurned me." He moved in closer, tongue flicking out to taste my sweat. "How could I replace you? Even then I knew it was impossible."

Can't think. He'd already felt that strongly for me?

"Am I irreplaceable to you? Drop the chain if I am."

Irreplaceable? Right now he was everything. A giver of pain and ecstasy, with a godlike body he used to pleasure mine.

With effort, I slackened my jaw, pushing the chain out with my tongue. It fell with a soft tinkling sound.

I licked my lips and worked my jaw, wondering what he would do next, craving it.

He covered one side of my face with his big hand, pulling me back to accept his kiss. Even as he plowed between my legs, his lips were tender on mine. The combination of brutal thrusts with the reverent caress of his tongue was as mind-blowing as anything else from this night--

I heard a sudden snap of leather, felt its sting across my mound. I whimpered into his mouth. Was that a dogging bat? Like the one I'd shown him in the magazine?

I couldn't look down to see because he still cupped my face. He continued kissing me--letting me know that it wasn't for me to see what he struck me with. It was for me to feel, to accept his lover's kiss, to come as he tormented me and fucked me from behind.

Another strike paddled my mons and clit, smacking against my sodden curls; there was a bite, but it wasn't pain, just friction and pressure where I so feverishly needed it.

Maybe I was desensitized, because I was rocking my hips for more as his cock continued to plunder.

Against my lips, he commanded, "Surrender everything to me, milaya." Another strike.

And another. I was so close. "Sevastyan," I whispered. "More."

He thrust--"I want to hear you scream your surrender"--and slapped.

Lost to him, I did surrender everything. To the beat of my whipping, I threw back my head and screamed. Thrashing helplessly in my bonds, I came for him, drenching him with cream. With each core-deep tremor, my sheath clenched his thickened shaft.

"I feel you milking me," he growled at my ear. "Give you what you want!" He fucked with all his might--

Scorching cum erupted inside me; my steely-willed, controlled Sevastyan roared uncontrollably for all to hear . . . over and over . . .

Abandoned, shuddering, he emptied the last of his semen into me.

With a ragged groan, he continued softly thrusting through our mixed orgasms, while I was left dazed.

All my senses zeroed in on him, only him: his pounding heartbeat, the cool fan of his breaths on my skin, the warmth of his cock still joining us.

When my head lolled back against his shoulder, he pressed kisses to my neck.

I roused somewhat when applause broke out, peppered with catcalls and whistles. I expected a blistering wave of embarrassment, but I was still too overwhelmed to react. A quick scan of the ring showed out-of-breath lovers, silks and velvets wetted from releases, glistening mouths and chins.

As we stared at the glass, Sevastyan wrapped one muscular arm around my neck, another around my waist, squeezing me close to show his claim.

Sensing his fury blazing out at the others, I peeked up at him.

No, he hadn't liked displaying me; now that the heat of the moment had passed, he was baring his teeth. "Given them far too much of you." He reached over to the table and pressed a button on the remote.

We were concealed once more.

Chapter 36

The thunderous applause continued, even after the glass was blacked out.

Yet I couldn't regret anything once I heard Sevastyan's voice suffused with pride: "My fantasy made flesh. I should never have doubted you to know your own mind." He gingerly pulled out of me, zipping himself back up as he moved to face me.

He brushed damp hair from my brow, his expression alternately possessive and . . . awed.

But when I shivered, he turned all businesslike. With swift, efficient movements, he released my raised knee and removed my ankle cuffs, then reached for my breasts, for the clamps.

He unscrewed a bolt, loosening the metal at one end. "This will hurt, love," he murmured as he eased it off my left nipple.

Blood rushed into it. I had to choke back a cry.

He took the throbbing peak into his mouth, stroking with his tongue to help with the pain. The right one was worse because I knew what to expect. The instant the clamp was off, he moved to that nipple. "Shh, love," he soothed against the tip, "there, it's almost over. . . ."

With my next shiver, he broke away, returning with a white, fluffy robe over his arm. He held it at the ready as he freed my cuffs from the ceiling chain. I collapsed into his waiting arms, cocooned by the pillow of the robe.

I trembled against him as he removed one wrist cuff and kissed the damp skin beneath it. He repeated his kiss with the other. "You're free now."

Such loaded words; I'd already been freed. He'd described this kind of behavior as a descent. It was just the opposite. With this man, I had flown. I'd soared. In a way, to submit . . . was to ascend.

Maybe I was still flying. Everything seemed muted and soft, the lights dimmer.

"How do you feel?"

"Little dizzy," I said in a scratchy voice. "What happens now?" There would be time enough to disbelieve what I'd just done. But tonight I was just going to roll with it.

"I'm taking you home." He guided my limp arms into the robe sleeves. "I expect you to relax and worry about nothing while I cosset you."

I could deal with that.

He bundled me up, cradling me against his chest, then carried me from our room.

Would we have to see those people? Go through the ballroom? When I stiffened, he said, "We're going out a private exit, love. The car's waiting."

Even when we were ensconced in the back of the limo and under way, Sevastyan didn't release me, keeping me on his lap. He removed my mask and his own, then reached into the cooler for a bottle of orange juice. "Drink." He held it up to my lips.

Tags: Kresley Cole The Game Maker Erotic
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