Page 32 of Filthy Dirty Dom

"You're going to watch me come, baby girl," Alex said, resisting the urge to cup her pink cheek. "On you."

Leslie struggled like there was rope holding her wrists behind her back. Alex was pleased by this: she was playing by the rules. She had bought into the game. Bondage wasn't about being tied down; it was about wanting to be tied down, desiring that restriction, yearning for that frustration, and sometimes, yes, that pain.

"You're so fucking pretty on your knees like this," Alex said as he fisted his cock. "God, Leslie."

A deep groan rattled from his chest at the relief he felt from touching himself. He'd had a rock-hard erection for what felt like hours at that point and the strain of it had been breaking him down like slow torture.

Alex stroked his shaft with a slow and mostly steady hand. He urged it toward Leslie's lips, his wet cockhead coming as close as he trusted himself to get it. Any closer and he would have parted those shimmering lips, cupped the back of her head, and forced himself inside of her tight little mouth. But he wouldn’t do it, even if it killed him.

As Alex began to stroke his erection harder and faster to the sight of Leslie’s naked tits, his heartrate skyrocketed.

A feverish sweat made his skin both burn and freeze. He was a strong man, but the muscles in his legs began to shake and his knees felt weak. His forehead buzzed and blood roared in his ears. He couldn't remember ever feeling his body so entirely hijacked by a woman.

Leslie looked at him the whole time, eyes lustful as they switched between his pleasure-ravaged face and his cock swollen and ready. The muffled sounds from outside their private room completely disappeared over the hammering of his heart. He was alone with Leslie and the wonder of it drove him wild.

"Tell me you want me to come on you," Alex panted.

He was close, his balls drawn in tight. The muscles of his lower stomach twitched constantly like they were being electrocuted. And he was swiftly losing control of the brutal rhythm of his pumping hand.

Leslie met his hazy gaze. "I want you to come on me, Sir."

“Yes. Yes. Fuck!”

With a series of violent jerks. Alex came on Leslie's chest. Through the white flashes that consumed his vision he saw his cum shoot in hot bead across her peaked nipples, the creamy swell of her tits, and just along the hollows of her trembling throat. He'd used the last of his self-control to not come on her face. He closed his eyes as his body shuddered and he imagined Leslie's lips wet with his cum, beads of it in her long, dark eyelashes. He groaned obscenely as he pictured licking it from her chin like honey.

Alex thought he was safe now that he'd orgasmed. Pressure had been released from the valve. But when he opened his eyes a whole new wave of unbearable desire crashed over him.

"Fuck, Leslie," he moaned.

She was just too perfect. She remained kneeling in the same position, her hands bound by her own will behind her back. His cum was beginning to thin and the sight of it running down Leslie's breasts, coating even further her little pink nipples as she just let it, let it for him...

Alex breathed hard. Harder even than he might have been just before he came. As blood rushed almost impossibly back toward his half hard dick, he struggled to not grab her.

He wanted to fuck her mouth, fuck her. He wanted to thrust into her while clawing at her tits, his cum sticky between their chests. He wanted to bind her with real rope, spread her arms and legs out on a mattress that they later broke from fucking so hard. He wanted to edge her until she screamed and drip hot wax over her belly. He wanted to call her slut and baby girl and chain her up with nipple clamps and a ball gag.

His desire nearly overtook him, because for the first time that night he convinced himself that Leslie could handle whatever he needed. He didn’t need to fear that he might be too much for her. Too dark. Too twisted. Too fucked up. The way she was in that moment with his cum staining her dress and her just looking up at him for more, everything with her seemed possible.

Without the strength left to lower himself down slowly, Alex collapsed heavily onto one knee and then the other in front of Leslie. Ripping off his shirt and turning it inside out, Alex silently wiped Leslie’s chest.

It was both a blessing and a curse, the thickness of his shirt. If it had been thinner, he could have felt more of her sweet nipples and guessed at how soft her milky skin was to the touch. But if it had been thicker, he would have less knowledge to torment his dreams with later that night. He longed to run his bare skin over her tits, to cup, to lick, to tease. But for the moment he allowed himself only the brush of his pinky against the side of her breast as he finished cleaning her up. Her shudder and pleased little exhale were enough to remind him that his will was shot for the night. That any further crossing of the lines he’d drawn for himself would end ruinously.

Leslie remained patiently kneeling as Alex pressed himself to his feet without a word. Turning his shirt right-side out, he put it on, the damp spots from his cum teasing him. Moving behind her, he gently reached around her to guide the top of her dress back into place over her chest. Alex made sure the ends of the bow lay nicely against Leslie’s shapely back. And then he helped her to her feet.

Gently, slowly, he briefly kissed her lips.

“You ready?”

She nodded and he held the door open for her.

The sounds of the club flooded back in, but Leslie remained serene as she passed by him, eyes locked on his.

They passed back through the velvet curtain.

Alex couldn’t help himself. He laid his hand at the small of Leslie’s back to show everyone that she was his. Even if she wasn’t.

14

As they left the sex club behind, the world transformed into a mosaic of color and light. The dazzling brilliance of New York City at night stretched out around them, its pulse echoing in the very air they breathed. Towering buildings blanketed in twinkling lights, neon billboards promising fame and fortune, and the ceaseless hum of life—the city that never sleeps lived up to its name.

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