Mirror of My Soul

if, as he suspected, the only one who entered the room was the one who slept there.
The anger in him which had settled to a simmer after he had seen her arrive safely, after he felt her body safe and sound in his arms, awakened like a dragon from its lair.
Marguerite stepped out of the bathroom. She froze when she saw the open drawer, his hand on the post.
“Tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”
She tightened her jaw, clenched her fists at her side. Anger flooded her, a reaction to her trepidation at his tone. She couldn’t back down from him, wouldn’t act like a person that owed him an explanation. Or her submission.
“It isn’t what you think it is,” she said sarcastically.
She’d not forgotten how fast he could move, just how quickly his temper could
motivate him to do so. Abruptly he was in front of her, had her turned and flat on her back on the bed, his body over hers. He yanked open the clasp of her cloak and caught the high neck of the nearly transparent dress beneath, ripped it all the way down, pulling it open so her completely bare body was beneath him. His trousered thigh pressed between her legs.
The moment the hard muscle flexed against her clit, she could not stop the
involuntary, almost violent reaction. The arching up of her body as if offering itself to him. She needed so much. She had to have him inside her. He needed to leave, so she could get it under control. She shoved at him and he rolled her over onto her stomach, pinning her wrists behind her back. He used one of the ropes from the drawer, firmly securing them, rendering her helpless.
“Let me go.”
“Not now, not ever.” His hand was on her bottom now, his fingers clutching her buttocks, squeezing hard, making her want to beg. “Is that what you do? You strangle yourself to make your cunt weep when your subs can’t?”
“I get aroused by my slaves. All of them,” she spat.
“I’m not your slave, angel. Don’t even try to be catty with me. And you do get aroused by what you do to them. But the key’s been staring you in the face all along, hasn’t it? You can’t get off without being restrained. Since it’s hard to tie yourself up in a way that makes you feel helpless, the way you need to feel to let yourself go, you strangle yourself. You told me you aren’t used to touching yourself to bring release, so 22
Mirror of My Soul
how do you do it?” His hand tightened on her left buttock, those strong fingers moving more deeply into the crease between. “You’ll answer me.”
“A pillow…and a towel. Between my legs. I use the other rope…to secure it.” She was glad she didn’t have to look at him now. His breath was hot on her neck, his body insistent against hers.
“Tell me.” His rigid cock beneath the trousers rubbed against her ass where his fingers pressed into her, making her whimper and push herself hard against the mattress, spearing herself with the pressure on her clit. “What do you fantasize about?
Who do you imagine is cutting off your air, controlling everything to bring you to climax? Making you come at his command, denying you everything until you give up your cream to his touch, his taste, the pounding of his cock?”
“I hate you.” She sank her teeth into the bed linens as he slapped her ass, setting off a ripple of nerve endings, the sensation shooting straight to her core.
“That’s what I thought.” Leaning over her, he removed the scarf from the drawer.
“There’s not going to be any more lying.”
She opened her mouth to retort and found it filled with the scarf as he gagged her with it like a bit, tied it behind her head. When he shifted, the silken fabric of the tie that had been dangling around his neck slithered against her throat. She closed her eyes as a hard shudder went through her.
“You will never, never engage in autoerotic asphyxiation again. If you want your Master to restrict your air to heighten your pleasure, you’ll ask for it. But tonight you’re asking for nothing. I’m going for what I know you need, what your body is screaming for.”
She wanted his cock. Wanted it deep in her body, filling the emptiness in every part of her. He wouldn’t give her that tonight. Somehow she knew he would make her come in ways she’d never experienced but he’d deny her what she most wanted until she begged for it.
He tied her ankles together with the second rope, then took the slack up to her knees and bound those together, confirming his intentions not to put anything between her thighs as large as his cock. The compression of her thighs made the throbbing almost unbearable. She writhed, letting out a short yelp as his palm struck her again.
“Be still, angel. Let it build until it’s a fire through every part of you.”
She thought it already was but his words made her burn even hotter.
His fingers traveled, knowledgeable and so clever, down the small of her back to caress her fingers, her palms. She didn’t try to grip him, far too mesmerized. She’d never been a man’s lover. She’d always been a Mistress, so everything was new. It was amazing to her that he knew how to touch her in ways she didn’t even know herself. He moved over the rise of her buttocks, then slowly pushed between them, the pad of his thumb finding her anus as it usually did, then he stroked her there, firm caresses with just the right pressure to make her pussy clutch like a fist around the void inside it, the void that wanted one thing. Him. She gnawed on the silk as he kept up the torturous 23
Joey W. Hill
rubbing and then he sank his thumb deep into