Page 167 of Chandelier Enthralled
My sex was opening like a flower for him, shiny and wet, blooming with delicate grace, my labia of soft petals unfurling under his touch as he eased them open.
He showered me with soft light kisses there so we could both admire my pussy in the glow, as if even that was paying homage to my body.
He held me like this for a long time, standing behind me, his look of awe, seemingly overwhelmed by the timeless beauty of my nakedness. And his command of it, of me.
My clit was terribly aroused and pulsing with ecstasy. A soft moan escaped me from the erotic tension, as I proved the strain of waiting.
“Willa,” he said, his tone severe. “This pussy is mine, and no one else can claim it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Watch and obey.” He rested a fingertip on my clit and circled slowly. “This is how you deserve to be touched.”
This time, the pleasure was too bright, too cruel, too brilliant, leaving me speechless, sucking all air from my lungs as I realized why—he’d also slipped two fingers inside me with his hand from behind, and was fingerfucking me in the same slow rhythm of his fingertip. This and the pressure of the plug was more than bliss, it was heaven itself and I was one of the chosen, beloved in this moment.
My hips rocked against him, responding to his sexual ministrations.
He began to spank my pussy—hard.
“Remain still.” His voice echoed around me.
I couldn’t hold it together for much longer. He had mentioned something about an intense orgasm.
Wanting this, I was still terrified of what kind of pleasure he meant. Wondering if I could handle it, handle him.
His spanking my clit and fingering my vagina, mastering my body with verve, was too much and yet I strove to honor the brilliance of his artistic mastery.
In the dimness, I failed to make sense of the pure perfection of this moment that knocked me out of my body—or so it felt, proving transcendence was real.
Greyson’s stroking inside me, and the noise made as he spanked me there, the thrilling shock tearing through me as his slapping coordinated with brilliant finger fucking, my mirrored image staring back aghast and yet eyes wide with an aliveness never experienced before—it brought me to the brink.
“Pressure?” he asked, checking in with me.
“Harder,” I begged, needing his palm to crush that tender nub.
He delivered his expert strikes, his violent palm crashing against my pussy, stealing all my reason, his punishment draping itself around my entire body like a silken shroud, tender and yet heavy.
Chasing after my release with my entire soul, I shuddered against these exquisite sensations, worsening my obsession for him.
He was inside of me and outside, he was above and below. In his arms, I was pulled into a world I never knew yet always belonged to. Every touch, flicker, every strike brought a storm, leaving my heart to beat in fierce rhythms it had never known.
In this moment, loving him, loving what he gave and did to me, was not a choice, but the very breath I shared with him, sudden and unyielding.
“For my master!” I screamed it.
Coming hard, my climax stole the oxygen from the room.
Thighs trembling, I neared the outer stratosphere, disappearing into some dark place and yet the brightest place I had ever seen, all boundaries dissipating, unable to grasp what was real and what wasn’t.
Greyson was gauging how much longer he could touch me there. As I jerked and trembled drawing out the last whimpers of pleasure.
Then his palm caressed where he’d slapped me, softening the discomfort, the dreaded burn, causing me to float into a dreamscape, suspending me between what I dreaded and what I craved.
He unlocked my cufflinks and lifted me, carrying me over to a burgundy throne.
I smirked that it was literally a regal chair you would find in a palace.
“Are you going to worship me?” I asked, eyelids heavy.
