to tear through your pants. Must hurt pressing against that zipper.”
He rubbed his lips together, the pressure in his dick near unbearable. But that only made his blood pump harder. “I’m managing.”
“You a pain slut, Gib?”
The fact that she kept using his name instead of one of the standard submissive terms—pet, sub, boy—made the whole thing feel more intense. In his sessions with dommes, he could slip into a role, be nameless, faceless. Sam wasn’t going to let him get away with that. She was going to make him own it. Admit what he never said aloud to anyone. “Yes, mistress.”
“Yes, what?”
He swallowed past his tight throat, the shame that tried to steal the words. “I’m a pain slut.”
“Take off your shirt.”
He’d done this for her before. He’d gone shirtless in trainings, had taken the kiss of her whip. But this somehow felt altogether different. He grabbed the back of his T-shirt and tugged it over his head. When he tossed it aside, he found Sam’s gaze hot on him. The obvious appreciation in her eyes was its own reward.
“Very nice.” Her gaze fell to his waistband. “Unzip your pants and take out your cock. I want to see what you’ve been keeping from me all this time.”
Gibson had never had a problem shedding his clothes in front of a woman, but the way Sam was looking at him had adrenaline coursing through him. He unzipped his fly and moved to shove his pants and underwear down.
But before he could, the belt swung out and hit his thigh through his jeans with a
thwack
. He stilled, the sting of it like sweet fire.
“I didn’t say take them off. I said take your cock out,” Sam said, that cool impatience like an aphrodisiac.
“I’m sorry, mistress.”
She huffed a beleaguered sigh and flicked her hand at him. “Link your hands behind your head and stay still. I can’t trust you to do it right.”
Slowly, he lifted his arms and laced his hands behind his head. Sam didn’t take her eyes off him. She was gauging his reaction, pushing at borders and seeing what she got. A little sting here. A little shaming thrown around. The girl was relatively new to dominance, but she was a natural at reading people. And he had no doubt what she saw in his face.
Sam reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulled it back, and dipped her hand inside. Her soft skin against his cock made the arches of his feet bow up. But she didn’t offer any more relief than a brief squeeze. Instead she cupped him, dipped his waistband low, and tucked it beneath his scrotum, putting all of him on lewd display within the open fly of his jeans. The head of his cock was glossy with arousal, the skin flushed and ruddy. He was dying for her to touch him, to put her mouth on him, something to alleviate the ache. But she left him in the cold.
She stepped back as if to examine her work, but he was preoccupied with drinking in the view. Sam’s nipples were pressing hard against her T-shirt, her breath quick, and her pupils dilated. She was turned the hell on and liking what she saw. He imagined he could scent her arousal in the air, which only made his cock harder. She wanted him. It was all over her.
But all she offered him was a shrug. “Yep. You’ll do.”
That earned her a choked laugh from him, made something loosen inside of him, made him want to play. “Don’t lie, beautiful. You like what you see. You’re imagining my cock in you right now, how good it’s going to feel.”
“Back talk will get you nowhere good.” Her grin was wicked as she raised her arm to wield the belt, her fierce beauty absolute. And he knew he was fucking done.
He’d agreed to a week.
He may not survive it.
But he’d die with a smile on his face.
Chapter 5
Sam was going to lose her ever-loving mind. She was usually a pro at keeping her cool, but the man before her was so beautifully built, so blindingly sexy, that she could barely keep her arm steady as she striped his chest with the belt.
She’d
He rubbed his lips together, the pressure in his dick near unbearable. But that only made his blood pump harder. “I’m managing.”
“You a pain slut, Gib?”
The fact that she kept using his name instead of one of the standard submissive terms—pet, sub, boy—made the whole thing feel more intense. In his sessions with dommes, he could slip into a role, be nameless, faceless. Sam wasn’t going to let him get away with that. She was going to make him own it. Admit what he never said aloud to anyone. “Yes, mistress.”
“Yes, what?”
He swallowed past his tight throat, the shame that tried to steal the words. “I’m a pain slut.”
“Take off your shirt.”
He’d done this for her before. He’d gone shirtless in trainings, had taken the kiss of her whip. But this somehow felt altogether different. He grabbed the back of his T-shirt and tugged it over his head. When he tossed it aside, he found Sam’s gaze hot on him. The obvious appreciation in her eyes was its own reward.
“Very nice.” Her gaze fell to his waistband. “Unzip your pants and take out your cock. I want to see what you’ve been keeping from me all this time.”
Gibson had never had a problem shedding his clothes in front of a woman, but the way Sam was looking at him had adrenaline coursing through him. He unzipped his fly and moved to shove his pants and underwear down.
But before he could, the belt swung out and hit his thigh through his jeans with a
thwack
. He stilled, the sting of it like sweet fire.
“I didn’t say take them off. I said take your cock out,” Sam said, that cool impatience like an aphrodisiac.
“I’m sorry, mistress.”
She huffed a beleaguered sigh and flicked her hand at him. “Link your hands behind your head and stay still. I can’t trust you to do it right.”
Slowly, he lifted his arms and laced his hands behind his head. Sam didn’t take her eyes off him. She was gauging his reaction, pushing at borders and seeing what she got. A little sting here. A little shaming thrown around. The girl was relatively new to dominance, but she was a natural at reading people. And he had no doubt what she saw in his face.
Sam reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulled it back, and dipped her hand inside. Her soft skin against his cock made the arches of his feet bow up. But she didn’t offer any more relief than a brief squeeze. Instead she cupped him, dipped his waistband low, and tucked it beneath his scrotum, putting all of him on lewd display within the open fly of his jeans. The head of his cock was glossy with arousal, the skin flushed and ruddy. He was dying for her to touch him, to put her mouth on him, something to alleviate the ache. But she left him in the cold.
She stepped back as if to examine her work, but he was preoccupied with drinking in the view. Sam’s nipples were pressing hard against her T-shirt, her breath quick, and her pupils dilated. She was turned the hell on and liking what she saw. He imagined he could scent her arousal in the air, which only made his cock harder. She wanted him. It was all over her.
But all she offered him was a shrug. “Yep. You’ll do.”
That earned her a choked laugh from him, made something loosen inside of him, made him want to play. “Don’t lie, beautiful. You like what you see. You’re imagining my cock in you right now, how good it’s going to feel.”
“Back talk will get you nowhere good.” Her grin was wicked as she raised her arm to wield the belt, her fierce beauty absolute. And he knew he was fucking done.
He’d agreed to a week.
He may not survive it.
But he’d die with a smile on his face.
Chapter 5
Sam was going to lose her ever-loving mind. She was usually a pro at keeping her cool, but the man before her was so beautifully built, so blindingly sexy, that she could barely keep her arm steady as she striped his chest with the belt.
She’d
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