Page 92 of Cameron's Contract
“Good girl.” I closed the cage door.
Reaching back for the vibrator, I fired it up, then I gestured for Mia’s pussy to be presented and gave a stern nod of approval when she did.
She let out a protracted moan when the massaging head thrummed against her clit, pounding her, sending shockwaves of pleasure.
“Yes,” she said in a rush.
“Who do you belong to, Mia?”
“You, sir.”
“You’ve been a very good girl tonight.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“What do good girls get?”
“To come, Master.”
“That is correct.”
I lowered the wand against her entrance and raised it to rub her clit, sweeping it over that exposed pussy, letting it rebound. I pressed firmly, lighter when she neared—teasing, controlling. Her inner thighs grew soaking wet and her hips rocked.
“Remain still,” I ordered firmly.
“Yes sir, sorry sir.”
“Good girl. Is that nice, Mia?”
She gazed down at the vibrator, long lashes fluttering with her closeness. “I like it.”
She ran her hand over her nipple, licked her lips in a sensuous tease, and looked at me with love in her gaze.
“Hands, Mia,” I snapped. “Obey.”
She clasped them behind her, her hips thrusting insistently, her eyes begging for release.
“Answer me this,” I whispered up at her. “Get it right and you’ll be allowed to come.”
Her frown deepened.
“What does la petite mort mean?”
She stuttered out, “It’s a French euphemism for orgasm.”
“Good. Now show me what it means.”
“Yes, sir.” Thighs shaking, body trembling, her moans echoed as her climax riveted her.
I let her come down slowly, breathlessly.
“You like your cage, Mia?”
She barely managed a nod.
Lifting her out, I let her catch her breath and find her footing.
“You refuse to answer?” I turned her around and bent her over the table, delivering spank after spank to her buttocks.
