Page 36 of No Words
His praise catches me off guard. I’m wet, aching, my body is betraying how much I need this control stripped away.
I hollow my cheeks, drawing him in deeply before pulling my head back, then swirling my tongue around his sensitive tip. He rewards with a deep groan that vibrates through his body.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his grip tightening in my hair. “Now take more.”
He holds my head in place, and his pace increases, each thrust slightly pushing deeper until he meets resistance at the back of my throat. I gag reflexively, struggling to accommodate him.
“Relax,” he commands, not withdrawing but holding still. “Swallow around me.”
I follow his instructions, fighting against my body’s natural resistance. When he pushes forward again, he slides deeper than before, triggering another gag that makes my eyes water.
“Perfect,” he growls. “Again.”
The pattern continues: push, resist, relax, surrender, as he systematically trains my throat to accept him. My jawaches from the stretch, my knees burn against the hard floor, but these physical discomforts fade beneath the overwhelming psychological surrender. My world narrows to the task of pleasing him, of accepting more than I thought possible.
“Breathe through your nose,” he instructs as I struggle to accommodate him. “Relax your throat. That’s it.”
Tears leak from beneath the blindfold, not from distress but from the overwhelming intensity of the experience. Saliva drips down my chin as I lose all semblance of control. The wetness between my thighs grows with each approving sound he makes, my body responding to my complete submission in ways I never expected.
“You’re taking me so well,” he growls, the hint of strain in his voice betraying his own battle for control. “No one has ever looked as beautiful as you do right now.”
Just when I think I can’t endure any more, he withdraws completely. I gasp for breath, feeling strangely bereft despite my relief.
“You did so well,” Cole says, his thumb wiping away the wetness on my cheeks. “But we’re just getting started.”
He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to what must be the bed. The restraints on my ankles are removed only long enough to position me on my back before being reattached to what feels like the bedposts, stretching me wide and open. My wrists remain bound beneath me, arching my back in a position that thrusts my breasts upward.
“I’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before,” Cole promises, his weight dipping the mattress beside me. “I’ll push you until you break apart, and then I’ll put you back together.”
The first touch of something cold and metallic against my heated skin makes me jerk in surprise. He traces it along mycollarbone, down between my breasts, circling each nipple until they harden almost painfully.
“What—” I begin, but am silenced by his finger against my lips.
“No questions. Only feeling.”
When the first clamp closes around my nipple, the sharp bite of pain draws a cry from my throat. Before I can process the sensation, a matching clamp tightens on the other side. The pain immediately transforms into a throbbing pleasure that pulses in time with my racing heart.
“Breathe through it,” Cole instructs as sensation builds to an almost unbearable peak. “Let go of control.”
And I do. For the first time in my meticulously ordered life, I surrender completely. No analysis, no overthinking, no weighing of consequences. Just pure sensation washing over me in waves, drowning out everything but the absolute certainty that I’m safe in his hands.
Cole removes the blindfold, his eyes dark with desire as he surveys my bound form on the bed.
“I want you to watch everything I do to you,” he says, voice rough.
He starts with his mouth, trailing kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, then lower to my breasts where the clamps still bite into sensitive flesh. When his tongue circles around the metal, the sensation makes me arch off the bed, straining against the restraints that keep my limbs spread wide.
The first slap lands on my inner thigh without warning, the sting radiating outward. I don’t even get time to process it before another lands on the opposite side, then another, each one leaving a red mark on my pale skin. Cole studies my face intently with each impact, gauging my reactions.
“Too much?” He asks, his hand hovering above my reddened skin.
“No,” I gasp, surprising myself with how much I crave more. “Don’t stop.”
His hand moves between my legs, tracing along my centre, finding me slick with arousal. His satisfied smile makes me blush.
“Look how much you want this,” he murmurs, two fingers sliding inside me. “How much you want me.”
The stretch and pressure of his fingers curling inside me makes coherent thought impossible. When his thumb circles my clit in tandem with his fingers, my hips buck involuntarily, seeking more contact.
