Tryst #1(2)
Author: Ella Steele

Slipping my shoes off, I say, “I was serious before. We can do anything you want. I’m not the same girl anymore.” He eyes me, watching the choker under my shirt. His eyes follow the delicate chains that disappear beneath my cl**vage.

“Is that…?”

Lips parted, I say nothing. I just nod, and feel my n**ples harden. His gaze remains fixed on the chains as I unbutton my shirt, and reveal the shelf-bra underneath. It holds my br**sts perfectly, showing their fullness and allows me to wear the jewelry. It can’t be seen under my blouse. It was a fluke I wore it tonight. I wanted to feel sexy when I left, and now I feel like a goddess. Michael doesn’t seem to breathe as he watches in disbelief. As my blouse parts, he sees the necklace is a silver collar. It connects with two delicate chains that connect to nipple rings, and a third chain that disappears beneath my skirt. I tie the shirt at the waist leaving the top unbuttoned so he can see my br**sts and the chain that connects to each nipple from my collar.

“You pierced them,” he whispers, his gaze locked on my n**ples. My br**sts swell as he stares at me. I nod. “When?” he asks and lifts his face to mine.

“A long time ago,” I say gently. “You can pull them, suck them, and do anything you like.” I lick my lips, and look at him through lowered lashes. “There are only two rules, remember? No questions. And you have to choose how you’ll fill me with come before we start.” My voice is softer than I’d intended. I didn’t know the piercing would have such an effect on him. “Well?” I prod.

“I’ll come in your p**sy, Ashley” he says shyly.

I put my hands on his chest, sliding off his dark blue jacket, telling him what I want, what I need. “Say it like you own me, because you do. I’ll do anything you want. Do you understand what that means?”

He looks around at the room. His dark brow lifts, “Anything?”

I nod, running my fingers along his shirt. “Anything,” I breathe.

He swallows hard, and tugs me toward him, pulling me by the waist. His lips hover above mine, hesitantly. I know he’s thinking of the way things were before—about the things that drove us apart. Without another word his lips come crashing down on mine. It’s a desperate kiss as his tongue forces its way into my mouth. He licks me, stroking my mouth as he kisses me, tasting me. He’s so hard. Every inch of his dick presses firmly against my stomach, and I want him inside me. But I let him go at his own pace.

Breathless, he pulls away, “Where does the third one go?” he asks, touching the delicate silver, pressing his finger over the chain and sliding his hand down my body.

I answer by untying the knot around my waist and peeling off the shirt. My skin is slick. His eyes are on me, on the white bra that holds my n**ples out to him. Michael reaches for my skirt, his strong hands press me closely to his chest, as his fingers search for the zipper in back. Teasing the zipper down, he slides his hands over my butt, cupping my ass and pulling me harder against his erection.

Holding me there for a moment, he strokes the small of my back and breathes in deeply. I savor his scent and the way he feels pressed against me. His hands tug the skirt down over the swell of my hips, and the skirt falls to the floor. I step out of it. I’m wearing a tiny panty, made from a patch of lace and three pieces of string. Confidence is flowing through my body. As he gazes at me, I spread my legs and look at him.

His eyes are locked on the third chain that goes to the bare skin below my waist and disappears beneath the lace. He’s breathing hard. “The third chain is attached to …?” He swallows hard and looks up at me.

I lean into him, splaying my fingers on his chest, whispering, “My clit. I’m yours. Take me. Spank me. Fuck my face. I’m your wildest wet dream, and I’ll do anything you want.”

He looks down at me. Caution flashes in his eyes, but quickly vanishes. He wonders what came over me, what made me change. I know he wants to ask, but he promised he wouldn’t. I want to tell him, but I won’t. Not yet.

He leans his forehead against mine and whispers, “You’ve always been my wet dream, Ash.” His eyes move around the room. It’s pretty much the same as when he was here last. A bed, a dresser, and the support post from hell that stands in the middle of the room, uglying it up.

Michael grabs my wrist hard and pulls me toward the thick post. “Feet apart,” he tells me.

I do as he says. The tone of his voice is perfect. I wish he’d talk like that the entire time. He takes his belt off, and snaps it. I flinch, wondering if he’s going to strike me, but he says, “Hands above your head.”

I lift my hands and he places the belt around them, using it to hold me in place. When he’s done, he steps back and looks at me, his eyes slipping hungrily over my curves. His gaze lingers on the patch of lace. He kneels in front of me, and slowly slides his hands up the back of my thighs, pressing my p**sy against his face as he does it. When his hands move over the swell of my hips, he inhales deeply, and his fingers wrap around the white strings. He tugs them down, stripping my lower half. He tosses the panty aside and gazes at me, touching my smooth skin gently. With his fingers, he outlines the silver chain that disappears between my lower lips.

I press my back against the pole and moan. My feet start to move back together to clench the warmth building between my thighs, but he swats me and says, “Feet apart.”

With a grin on his face, he stands. Michael unbuttons his pants, slowly sliding down the zipper. He keeps the dark pants on, and pulls out his long, thick erection. He hesitates, stopping before me, holding it in his hand. I know he’s questioning himself. The conflict spreads across his face.

“Do it,” I plead, hanging my head back and letting my hair trail down to my waist. I know his eyes are on me, watching my body move in front of him, tied up and ready to take. I’m breathing hard, wanting him to do it. When a moment passes, I look at him and say, “Take me right now and make me yours in every way possible. Do it. No more regrets. No more wondering. Do it. Take me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, his eyes on mine.

“Then don’t,” I breathe. “You’re the one in control here. Make me writhe. Make me scream. Make me yours. Take me the way you want to. But, Michael—”

“Yeah?”

“I like things a little rough.” After I say it, my lips remain parted and I take a deep breath. My chest swells, forcing my n**ples toward him. The pole presses against my back and I lean into it wondering what he’ll do.

Michael takes my face in his hands. “Tell me if I hurt you. Promise. As soon as you don’t like it anymore, you’ll tell me.” I nod slowly, his warm hands still holding my cheeks.

It was like someone flipped a switch. Michael’s eyes grow darker, more carnal. He releases my face and presses his tone body against me. Pushing my back into the pole, he makes sure I can feel every inch of him. The nipple chains go taught and pull gently as he slides over me. A small gasp escapes between my lips. Michael watches me, his blue eyes locked on mine. He takes one finger and places it on my pink lips, while his other hand slides lower past my belly and between my legs. I gasp. He moves quickly, feeling the cl*t ring under his touch, watching my face as he does it.

My chin lifts as I try to not to moan. I fight the sensations that are erupting inside of me, the feelings he’s creating. His fingers move on top of my clit, tugging the chain gently. He feels me growing wetter and then, without warning—without a change in expression—he thrusts his finger inside of me. He’s still for a moment, watching my eyes. I blink slowly, feeling him there between my legs. The last time we were together, I was smooth. Nothing was pierced. There were no chains.

Michael pushes his finger harder, deeper as he watches my eyes. His breath washes over my lips making me feel light. When he pulls his finger out, he lifts it to my mouth. Outlining my lips, he watches me and spreads my damp heat like lip balm. I blink slowly, my heart pounding.

“Taste how good you are,” he breathes and pushes his finger into my mouth. I flick my tongue against his finger, but he holds it there and says, “Suck the come off your finger, Ashley.” I hesitate, but he says, “Do it,” and I do. My tongue wraps around his finger, sucking it, tasting what he tastes. His eyes are burning, watching me.

As I suck his finger, he lowers his other hand between my legs, parting my smooth skin. Sensations explode inside of me, but before I can savor them, the feeling changes. Michael’s dick slams into me, making me suck his finger harder. He pulls his finger out of my mouth, and wraps his hands around my waist. He remains still for a moment, breathing heavily. Then he pulls his dick out slowly and thrusts it back in, slamming me into the pole. My knees tremble. I want more. He pulls out and slams back in hard.

I gasp every time. My br**sts shake with the force of his thrust. Something uncoils inside of me. I want his hands on me, doing things we haven’t done. I crave it so badly, I always have. And he knew, even then. It was me who denied how I was, that I wanted to be dominated, but he knew. And now that he was acting on it, now that I’d accepted it, I felt so much more. Delicate strands of passion erupted inside of me, sending tingles down my thighs and br**sts. Every place I wanted him to touch sizzles like a current runs through me. Arching my back, I pressed my h*ps into him, only to get slammed back into the pole.

His thrusts change to teases, gently pushing in and pulling out. His dick is so hard, so sharp. I want to wrap my legs around his hips, but I can’t. Breathing hard, I look up at the ceiling. That’s when his hands find my br**sts. My lips form an O, but I say nothing. He feels the softness, the fullness of my curves as he pushes his long, hard length into me slowly, torturing me, over and over again.

Taking my n**ples between his fingers, he twists them gently. I cry out, thrusting my br**sts to him, but the pole stops me. Gasping, I can barely breath.

He grins, “Shhh. No sounds from you.”

I can’t breathe. I do as he says and bite my lip to remain silent. He slams his dick into me again, and my mouth flies open. I swallow the sound before he hears it. The only noise is a rush of air being forced out of my lungs.

“Good girl,” he purrs and pulls out before thrusting back in, deeper this time. The tone of his voice makes me shiver. The way he said it makes me think he’s really okay with this, with us. It’s not that I expected him to protest, it’s just that this isn’t what we used to do.

Before I could think another thing, Michael’s fingers clamp around my n**ples. His h*ps stay pressed flush to mine, his length lost inside of me. My jaw falls open, and I see him watching me, waiting for me to make a noise. My eyes lock on his, while sinful sensations swirl through my body, building tighter and higher. He slowly adds more pressure, teasing and pulling my n**ples tighter and longer. The heat in my stomach sears through my body. It makes me shift my h*ps and try to f**k him, but he stills me.

“No, no. Not yet baby. I’ll tell you when to push back. If you do it before then, I’ll spank you.”