“Good girl, Isa,” he said, looking down at me. “I have one last surprise for you before I make you mine, once and for all.”
I waited, my heart racing as he retrieved a black, lacquered box from one of the dungeon’s shelves. He knelt before me and opened it up.
“Put it on, little slave. It’s yours.”
My hands trembled as I picked up the leather collar. Unlike my other one, this was as white as snow, the buckle gleaming like the ring on my finger. The leather was soft, caressing my skin as I fastened it on, feeling instantly like a part of me. Like it belonged there, just like I belonged here. With him.
“Beautiful,” he said, his long fingers stroking my face. “Just beautiful.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I breathed.
“Come here, Isa. Come to the cross.”
He beckoned for me to stand and follow him to the back of the dungeon, where the enormous X-shaped cross stood against the wall. I trembled looking at it, adrenaline coursing through my body at the thought of being bound to it, spread wide and helpless before my master.
“I know you’ve been waiting for this. The way you looked at it the first day I brought you down here… I’ve been saving it for you. For the perfect moment.”
I tried to steady my breathing as I stared up at it, then down at the black nylon rope lying in a neat coil at its base.
“Put your back against it, little slave, and hold your arms out.”
I did as he commanded, holding my arms in place as he deftly wound the rope through a ring at the top of each arm of the cross, then secured my wrists to the polished wood. Once each of my arms were secure, he wound the rope in an intricate pattern, binding it over the tops of my br**sts, then under, displaying them proudly, before snaking the rope back and forth like a web around my waist and thighs. I spread my legs for him, and he bound those, too, lashing me securely to the cross.
He leaned back, studying his work, his long fingers running over his chin. He smiled, then, and untied his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his crisp, white shirt. I licked my lips as he revealed the strong planes of his chest, wishing I could run my hands through the sprinkling of golden brown hair, then move lower, tracing the lines of his contoured abs until I reached the place just above his belt, tickling the flesh above the place I wanted to touch most of all.
He was na**d now from the waist up, and grinning at me in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I tried my bonds, but I was snugly held, the rope rubbing against my wrists when I tried to move.
He stepped into the shadows and returned with another box, one I remembered all too well. He opened the lid, and I sucked in a breath–the egg and the plug he’d made me wear before where there, along with a small vial of lubricant.
He wasn’t going to use those on me, was he? All I wanted was him inside of me, filling me up, making me truly his wife, his partner, his love.
“Relax, little slave,” he said, his voice a low rumble in the dimness. “Trust your master.”
I relaxed against the wood of the cross, my body humming in anticipation. He came to me, looming over me, and I gasped when I felt cool gel hit my pucker.
“Shhh, Isa. Take it in,” he whispered, and pressed the thin plug into me.
I breathed out, accepting it, and it slipped inside, the feel of it stretching my tight ring of muscle making me whimper. Mr. Drake slipped a hand into his pocket, and the egg whirred to life, buzzing against the wood of the box. He swept it up and held it before my eyes, letting me wonder what exactly he was going to do with it.
“Remember this, little girl? How you came around it, shuddering in my arms as we danced? How raw you were, Isa… How real. It was breathtaking.”
He brought the egg to my lips, and I opened my mouth, suckling on it gently.
“I knew then, you were someone very special. Someone I couldn’t let get away.”
The buzzing egg lowered, and I moaned as he ran it over one nipple, making it tighten to a peak, then the other, the coolness from my mouth making the vibration feel even more powerful against my hot flesh. He trailed the egg around the curve of my br**sts, trussed up by his skillful rope work, making me tremble as it glided over me.
I was already wet for him, my body squeezing around the plug, arousal leaking down onto my thighs. How I wanted him in me… but he seemed determined to tease me. To drive me wild before finally giving me what I wanted. What I needed.
He moved the egg lower, tracing the gentle curves of my body, bringing the vibration against the sensitive flesh on my inner thigh, making me squeal and pull at the ropes. His chuckle made my body tingle, aching for him, but helpless to take him into my arms. When the egg hit my delicate folds, I cried out, my muscles squeezing around the plug, pleasure spiking through me like lightning. He moved it in circles, grinding it against my cl*t until I was gasping, tears stinging my eyes.
Mr. Drake reached into his pocket again, and the plug inside of me roared to life, matching the vibrations from the egg. I was enfolded in feeling, my entire lower half pulsing, my head spinning as I felt the orgasm already building inside of me, coiling deep in my belly.
He bent down, and I wailed as he nibbled my br**sts, rubbing the egg harder against me as his teeth found their way to my ni**les, already painfully erect.
With one swift movement, he pushed the egg between my legs, pressing it up inside of me. I screamed as he latched onto one nipple, biting hard, his tongue thrashing over the tip as the sweet pain made my body shake against my restraints. The throbbing inside of me reached a crescendo, and then I was cumming, crying out his name as a hot tear rolled down my cheek.
His mouth gentled on me, kissing and sucking, and he moved to the other breast as my body trembled, convulsing around the toys still humming inside of me. Then, the vibrations stopped, and he was lowering his pants and boxers to the floor.
“Push it out now, little slave.”
I panted against my restraints, but did as I was told, squeezing my muscles until the egg was released into my master’s hand.
His breath tickled my ear before his lips trailed down my neck, kissing and licking.
I mewled, wanting him, wanting more, but not sure how much more I could take. He moved closer, his hard chest brushing against my br**sts. I loved the way he felt against me–so safe, so warm. So right.
He reached down, and I felt the tip of him pressing into me, urging me open. I moaned as he sheathed himself inside of me, stretching me; filling me in a way that made my toes curl inside of my heels. I was spread wide for him, vulnerable and ready, and he pushed deeper, making me gasp.