I’m already soaked just from the sight of him. His cock is huge, thick, beautiful. His black pubic hair is trimmed immaculately, and my mouth waters as I think, ‘Holy Cannoli’.

His focus is completely on me, and the fact that he nearly begged me to fuck him gives me confidence by the bushels.

“I changed my mind,” I tell Gia. “I want him on his back so I can ride his face.”

“Mmm … sounds delicious,” she says as Vincent stares at me, brown eyes black and narrowed, still trying to give of an air of control.

I almost feel bad about what I want to do to him. Almost.

He’s not here like the others Thor described to me who want to be controlled, so this is even more empowering.

As Gia ties his ankles, then his wrists, he asks me, “How bad do you want me to lick your cunt?”

Gia stops what she is doing and smacks his balls with the small paddle. He grunts.

“Get her the fuck out of here.”

“If I gag you, it won’t work quite as well, so please be quiet,” I tell him.

“You don’t say please to your slave.” Gia squeezes his balls now and I feel a bit jealous, no more than a bit.

His expression is angry, so angry.

“You need her in here, or do you think you can handle me all tied up by yourself?”

She smacks him again. “Shut the fuck up.”

He closes his eyes, and I watch his nostrils flare and his jaw muscles pop. He’s pissed, and I shouldn’t care … but I do. I also don’t want her touching him.

“I’ve got this,” I tell Gia.

“You’re certain?”

I nod.

“Do not go easy on him. This is for you.” She squeezes my hand then leaves the room.

I look away from the door to him.

“This is how you want it? My hands unable to work you up like they did upstairs?” He’s angry, so angry, and my confidence is slipping.

I start to untie his hands.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Somehow, he manages to grab my wrists, stopping me.

“This won’t work, not with you,” I tell him.

“You want to ride my face, get the hell up here and do it.”

“I’m supposed to be the one giving orders. Me. Not you,” I tell him, looking away. “Let go. I don’t want this.”

“Paige, I’m not leaving until I have your cum on my face and my cock has been buried inside your cunt.”

“Why?”

“Jesus, this again?”

I realize I’m allowing him to have control. I also realize he isn’t going to go easily. And lastly, I realize he’s hard, I’m wet, and I want him regardless. I want this man under my control.

“Shut the fuck up,” I tell him like Gia said to.

“There you go. Now get on my—”

He stops when I squeeze his cock hard.

“Harder,” he taunts.

“One more instruction from you, and this won’t happen.”

He moves his body a little, seeming to adjust.

I look up at the overhead beam with the ropes, and he groans. Then I look down to see he’s licking his lips. Following his eyes, I see they are directed at my crotch.

I may not be wasted, but I’m still intoxicated and glad to be so. Otherwise, this would be totally fucking awkward.

“Don’t fucking think, Paige. Do.”

I should tell him to shut the hell up, but his encouragement is emboldening.

I set my knee on the table, reach to grab the rope, and pull myself up. Standing above him, I watch as he licks his lips again, and then I do what I set out to do.

Lowering myself down, squatting inches above the face of a freaking god, I watch his brown eyes darken to nearly black as he licks his lips yet again.

“Give it to me.”

So, I do.

He immediately plunges his tongue into me, sending electric-like currents throughout my entire core.

Listening to his groans, his need, as he fucks me with his tongue, my head falls back, and I hold on tighter to the ropes as I grind against his face.

I hear the ankle restraints being yanked and turn to see his cock standing straight up as he thrusts his hips upward, seeking a connection. As much as I want to give it to him, I want to stay in control.

When he sucks my clit, I cry out. He does it again, this time harder.

I release the ropes and grab his dark hair, riding him harder, watching his face become slick with my wetness as he continues to lick, suck, and eat my pussy like I have never experienced.

Unable to keep my orgasm at bay, I lean back, placing my hands on his strong thighs, and rock harder as I take from him.

When I slide back, his eyes dart from mine to my crotch, to my tits. In wild abandon, he thrusts his hips again.

I dismount.

He growls as I walk to the corner where the bottle of wine I asked for awaits. I take a drink and swallow it back. Then I take the bottle with me as I walk back to the table.

“Going to share?” he grits out.

I move to his side, arching my back so my tit is inches above his face, and pour some wine down my breast. He moves slightly, catching it in his mouth. Then he raises his head and nips at my erect nipple, then licks it.

“More.”

Enjoying the control, I tell him, “Say please.”

Between clenched teeth, he hisses, “Please.”

The way he looks at me, my body, the need and desire in his eyes, the way he is actually listening to instruction, and the fact that I am feeling my buzz, strengthens my confidence.

I climb back onto him and straddle him. Then I lean down and pour more of the wine down my breast and into his wanton and awaiting mouth.

“So sexy,” I whisper as he raises his head again and sucks on my tit.

“Fuck,” he says as I sit back far enough so he can’t reach them, teasing him and allowing myself to enjoy how badly he wants me.

I turn my body so my ass is in his face and watch from over my shoulder as he darts his tongue out, trying to lick my pussy. Finally, I move back, allowing him just a taste before pulling away.

Reaching behind me, I shove a finger in my pussy and finger myself.

He thrusts his hips again as he hisses, “Give it to me.”

I move back farther now and allow him to lick me. When I feel his tongue on my ass, I freeze as he licks a part of me untouched by any other. I close my eyes and allow myself to enjoy the feeling. Then, when the pressure of his tongue penetrates me, I move forward and allow my hair to slide across his hard cock. It’s magnificent, and I want it.

I scoot down then turn to face him now as I kneel between his thick, strong thighs. As I stare at him, though, my confidence waivers slightly, because this man is completely and totally out of my comfort zone. He’s not just out of my league, he is out of everyone’s league. He’s off the fucking grid.

“Do it,” he says, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

I grab the bottle of liquid courage and drink it down quickly.

On my knees, between his legs, I pull my hair to the side then pour more wine on his cock before I bow down to lick it off.

“Fuck yes. Fuck. Yes.” He thrusts his hips, seeking more.

I want to give him more, but I need to be the one in control.

Sliding off the table again, I hear him sputter something in Italian. I untie his legs from the bench, walk to the head of it, and then untie his hands, too. I quickly tie them together.

“On your stomach,” I tell him.

“Why?”

“Do it now.” My voice is strong and unwavering.

He sighs while he turns over.

I tie the ankle ropes lightly to the table then reach under him and pull his thick, hard cock between his legs. I stroke him slowly at first then faster. Pre-cum forms on his broad head, and I can’t help licking it off.

He tastes exquisite.

I squeeze his balls roughly, and he growls his displeasure as his hips rise slightly off the table. I immediately take more of him into my mouth, and now he groans. Sucking, I hollow my cheeks, and he moans my name and something else in Italian that is lost to me.

He thrusts his hips, making me gag slightly, so I squeeze his balls harder, and he pulls back. I lick the underside of him, stroking him harder as I lick his balls.

“Fuck,” he sputters. I’m unsure if he likes it or detests it.

It doesn’t matter, Paige, I tell myself before fully sucking one into my mouth.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans. There is no misunderstanding this time. He likes it.

I suck the other into my mouth, jerking his cock harder. I want more.

Still sucking his balls, I untie his legs.

“Roll over.”

When he does, I grab the stool under the table and step up to grab the loose ropes from the beam. I tie the ones around his ankles so his legs are elevated and he is spread before me.

I feel powerful; in control in a way I never realized I craved.

I lick his balls as I pump his cock then take as much of him into my mouth as I can. When he thrusts upward, I grab his balls again. However, it doesn’t slow him down this time.

As his cock grows more in my mouth, I run my finger down the crack of his ass and apply pressure to his asshole.

“You decide to put a finger in my ass, this will be your one and only chance to do it. But make no mistake about this, you’ll be getting my cock in yours sooner than later.”

His words turn me on to a degree I can’t fathom, causing me to reach between my legs to pinch my clit.

I climb onto the table and straddle him again, my ass in his face once more. I spit on his cock then suck hard, taking him to the back of my throat as I rub the area between his balls and asshole.

“Fuuuuck,” he groans when I stop sucking and spit on his cock again before taking him in my mouth and spreading the saliva to his asshole. Then I push a fingertip inside him.

As he breathes out, and I feel his body relax, I push my finger inside fully. He thrusts his cock in and out of my mouth as I move my finger in his asshole to the rhythm he has set while I slide my body down toward his head.

“Eat my pussy.”

Immediately, his mouth is on my crotch and I am grinding against it, just like he is mine.

His cock falls out of my mouth as I cry out.

I push another finger inside him, and he tenses. I don’t stop, though. I take his cock deeper into my mouth, and he begins to thrust harder, faster, eating me rougher. I love it.

“Stop, stop, stop …” His ass clenches around my fingers.

I pull them out and look back as he sits up, putting his bound hands around me, biceps crushing against me and pushing his body against mine, moving me lower until my drenched pussy is sliding against his hard cock. He then grips my chin and pulls me back, kissing me with the fierceness of a lion. He thrusts his tongue into my mouth as I push against him.

Releasing my chin, still kissing me, he slides his bound hands down my body. I feel the head of his cock rub against my opening.

Before I can protest, he thrusts fully into me.

My back to his front.

I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I am magnificently full of him.

He begins thrusting into me as he rubs my clit. Within seconds, I come.

I feel him swell further, and then I feel his cock twitch inside me while the heat of his release fills me.

“What have you done?” I cry out.

“Exactly what you’ve been asking for,” he pants out, still playing with my clit. “Your fucking pussy is too tight. I couldn’t help myself. So fucking good.” He rocks into me again. I feel him not softening but getting harder. “Let me fuck you the way you should be fucked,” he continues to pant out against my neck.

“How dare you come inside me.” I quickly untie his wrists.

“You’re on the pill, correct?” he asks as I get down from the table.

“How do you know I’m clean? Better yet, how the hell do I know you are?”

“I’m clean,” he says, reaching to untie his ankles.

“Un. Real.” I grab the bottle of wine then hurry toward the door.

“Are you kidding me right now? You’re running away? ” he calls behind me.

Standing in the hall, I take a huge drink from the bottle, and then another.

“Are you all right?” Gia asks, her Italian accent missing.

“I need a bathroom, a shower, and another fucking bottle of wine.”

She takes my hand. “Did he hurt you?”

“Of course he didn’t,” I sputter as she leads me down the hall to where I changed earlier.

“The bathroom is through the changing room. Everything you need is in there. When you’re done, if you’d like to talk to process—”

“I thought you were Italian,” I snap.

She shakes her head. “American, just like you. I come here for a month every six.”

I don’t have time to uncover the mysteries of Gia. I need to soak my vagina in bleach.

Once I have scrubbed my body and given myself enough time to squat over the drain, hoping any little Vincent’s find their way out of me, I get out of the shower, dry my body, and step into the dressing room.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap when I see him standing there.

“Aftercare,” he says, trying to hide the disdain in his words.

“I don’t need your after anything,” I snap, taking the black button-down shirt from him. “This isn’t mine.”

“It’s gotten cold out.” He snatches it away, walks behind me, and puts my arm through the holes like I’m incapable.

He walks around me and reaches out and tries to button the shirt,

“Just leave me alone.”

He grabs it and pulls me back toward him. “You think I want to be in here?” he asks as he works the buttons quickly and accurately.

“Then why are you?”

“I won’t be welcomed back if my Mistress doesn’t leave happy. Besides, you have no right to be bitchy to me. You stuck a finger in my ass.”

“Two!” I snap. “I stuck two in your ass, and you liked it.”

“And you came faster than any woman I have ever been with when my cock slid inside that cunt that clearly has never had a decent-sized cock inside it. Fucking strangled me.”

“And you came faster than my first fuck,” I snap back.

“Warren?”

As soon as the name leaves his lips, I slap him across the face.

His eyes widen in shock, and then he looks me up and down with contempt. “After I get what I have coming from you, I hope to never see you again.”

“What is it you think you have coming?” I ask, sliding my feet into my heels, which he is knelt down and holding for me, even after slapping his face.

I want to apologize. I have no idea why I slapped him …

Yes, I do. I’m a slapper. It’s a prelude to the big fuck off … every time.

“I’m going to fuck that ass until you beg me to stop. And even then, I’m not sure I will.”

I no longer want to apologize.

He opens the door, but when I try to walk past him, he grabs my hand and doesn’t let it go as he quickly walks toward the exit sign.

Walking out a door we didn’t enter, I am momentarily confused. When I turn to look for the car, I slip on the wet pavement, and he catches me.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbles under his breath as he carries me, cradled in his arms, to a waiting car.

“Well, look at you. The perfect little submissive carrying his Mistress to the car. You’re sure to earn your return this way.”

“Shut the fuck up before I drop you on the ass I’m going to tear apart.”

“You wish you had a big en—”

I stop before I say big enough because, let’s face it, it is.

He looks at me, eyebrow raised as if he’s royalty looking down on a peasant. “Exactly.”

He slides into the car, still holding me in his arms. When I try to move, he tightens his grip.

“Stay the fucking part, mistress.”

I sit stunned by the fact that I just did what I just … did. Stunned that his rotten words seem to be making me wet, or maybe it’s the little Vincents that certainly could still be making their way down from my fucking esophagus, because he was so deep. Soooo damn deep.

I look at my shirt and realize it’s his. His dinner jacket is now over a plain white tee-shirt.

“Thank you for the shirt,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back.

I look up at him, and he closes his eyes and rests his head back against the leather seat. Then he pulls my head to his shoulder. It’s a sweet gesture … until he glances down to see I am looking up at him.

“Don’t do it. Just shut up and let me rest.”

So, I do.