Page 65 of Cruel Master
Her eyes widen. Is it strange for her, hearing those words from my lips? I’d worried this would feel unnatural without Saldar to hide behind, but so far, it doesn’t. The more time I spend with Juliet as myself, the more natural this feels. I keep having to remind myself she’s a long way behind me. She only just found out who I am.
I don’t get a nod. She’s stubborn, but I expected that, and I’ve got plenty of time to convince her. I glance at my watch. “You’ve got another twenty-five minutes in the chair to think about it. If you manage to orgasm, you won’t be in trouble.”
Her brows dip in confusion, but I don’t explain my statement. I reattach the nipple clamps, ignoring her frantic squeaks of protest. The tinkling of the bells as she twitches makes me smile. She’s pissed as all hell, and I love it. Just one more surprise to go. I pull out the third clamp, designed with padding for pleasure rather than pain, and attach it to her clit.
This time, I get a drawn-out moan in response as the clip comes to life, vibrating in time with the chair. Just five seconds. Not enough to get her off, but enough to drive her mad. It’s a beautiful sound, and my cock presses against my jeans as I settle back onto the altar with Juliet’s sketch pad.
For the next twenty-five minutes, I force myself to keep my eyes on her drawings, ignoring the jingling bells and the increasingly desperate noises from Juliet’s direction. She doesn’t use the squeaky ball. I’m glad she understands being horny doesn’t count as an emergency.
I’m soaking it in, though, committing every little noise to memory. I could do this for a long time without getting bored. I could do it forever. Will it be enough to crack her stubborn attitude and make her beg? God, I hope so. I’ve taken her ass multiple times as Saldar, but it’s just not the same as doing it as myself. As her knowing it’s me.
By the time Juliet’s punishment is over, I’m buzzing with energy, as impatient as I’m sure she is. I don’t let myself look eager, though. That wouldn’t give the correct impression. I walk over to her slowly and stand in front of her, just observing until the vibrations hit.
Her eyes screw shut, and the hand not holding the squeaky ball curls into a fist. She looks like she’s concentrating very, very hard. When they stop, she lets out a pained whimper. I raise a brow. “Didn’t manage to get over the edge, I take it?”
She glares at me in response. Still fiery. But how much fight does she really have left? I unclip the head harness and slide the rubber cock out of her throat. She works her jaw in relief, and I offer her water before she tries to speak.
She drinks it greedily, some splashing onto her breasts in a way that sends my mind spinning down a new path. If she won’t beg for my cock in her ass, I’ll come all over her and leave her toget cleaned up by herself, still desperate for an orgasm. At least one of us will get what we need.
She’s the one who dreamed of having a master, but I’m starting to wonder how I ever coped without Juliet as my slave.
She finishes the water, licking her lips. It doesn’t help my current painful predicament, and I adjust myself in my jeans. If I’m this worked up, how the hell must she be feeling?
Right on cue, the vibrations hit. Free of the gag, Juliet can’t hide her desperation. She bites her lip, body tense, eyes closed. When the vibrations stop, I unclamp her clit. She gasps as blood races to the sensitive spot, and I only give her a second to recover before I stroke my finger over it.
“Are you ready to ask me nicely yet, doll?”
She squirms, bells jingling, and I breathe in the scent of her. I love her like this, unperfumed and natural. Hot, needy, and desperate. I can’t hold myself back, tracing her curves. The curves that belong to me alone.
She’s still strapped down and helpless. I’m not freeing her until I get an answer. As I stroke her clit, she shifts, grinding on the dildos impaling her. The little minx. She’s hoping she can get herself off without doing as she’s told. Not happening.
I keep it up long enough that her eyes close and her subtle hip movements become more rhythmic. Just as she draws in a sharp breath, I pull my hand away.
She keeps grinding for a few seconds until her brain catches up, then her eyes snap open. Her lips part with a sad little noise, and her movements slow.
I shrug, unzip my jeans, and pull out my cock.
Her eyes latch on to it, and her mouth drops open. It would almost be funny, if it wasn’t so goddamn sexy. I’ve fucked her as Saldar countless times. Did she expect me to deny myself the pleasure?
I start to work my cock in rough strokes, and the pressure of my hand is heaven, even though it’s not what I really want. Her eyes follow the movement, and my voice is rough as I say, “Last chance, doll. You won’t get another for a few days.”
I won’t even consider freeing her from the cell until she passes this basic test, but I’m not telling her that. And right now, I don’t give a flying fuck. All I care about is the way she’s watching me as I pump my own cock. Oh well. A few days of desperation will soon have her being extra polite. I might make her crawl to me next time. I might—
“Please.”
Her quiet voice echoes in the cell. It’s a challenge, but I force myself to still my hand as triumph scorches my veins.
“Please, what?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Juliet
Whydoeshehaveto make me ask for it?
I’m floating in a fuzzy haze of pain and lust, but the shame of having to say it knifes its way through. The fucking vibrations kick off again, getting me close but not quite there, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming.
My throat aches from the aftermath of the gag, my ass is burning, but my pussy doesn’t seem to care. If I could move, I’d be riding the dildo shoved up inside me already. I’d have been doing it for the last half hour. The complete immobility of the chair is driving me insane.
