Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Feeling slightly ridiculous, Braze stepped into them when she held them open, lifting one foot, then the other. She pulled them up his legs, her knuckles brushing against his calves and thighs, and then, when he was sure the non-con manacles weren’t going to shock him, he took over.
The leather was cool at first, then quickly warmed, molding to him like a second skin as he tugged the crotchless trousers up over his hips. He took his hands away then and let Kaitlyn fasten them around his waist. They fit perfectly, emphasizing the muscular curve of his ass and the thick columns of his thighs, while leaving his cock and balls completely vulnerable and exposed to the cool air.
“Feel like a fucking idiot,” he growled, looking down at himself. His shaft looked obscene, jutting proudly from the opening in the leather. “Blowin’ in the fucking wind like this.”
“Well, you won’t be completely bare for long—I still have to put the, uh, ring on you,” Kaitlyn reminded him, her cheeks pink.
She picked up the cock ring from the bed, the metal gleaming dully in the crystal light. She started to bend, then apparently changed her mind and sat on the edge of the vast mattress, the starry blue gown rustling.
“Here—I think I can reach you better this way—come a little closer.”
He took a step forward, until he was standing directly before her, his exposed cock level with her face. The intimacy of the position made his gut tight with need, which he tried to ignore.
Kaitlyn unfastened the buckle on the leather strap of the ring, her fingers trembling slightly. She slipped the cool metal circle around the base of his shaft, just above his knot. She tried to position it, frowning in concentration, her soft lips pursed.
“Should it go above or below the knot?” she muttered to herself, more thinking aloud than asking.
“Below,” he answered instantly, the word out before he could stop it. On Yonnie Six, his old Mistress had always insisted that a cock ring must sit below the prominent ridge of his knot, to emphasize its swell—to make it look even bigger.
The memory was a cold splash of reality, but it was instantly incinerated by the feeling of her fingers adjusting the ring, her knuckles brushing the ultra-sensitive skin of his balls.
Braze bit back a groan. Her touch was fucking killing him—sending bolts of pure, undiluted pleasure straight up his spine.
She tried again, sliding the ring down another fraction of an inch until it settled in the groove just beneath the swollen bulge.
“That’s not too tight, is it?” she asked anxiously, looking up at him, her eyes wide and dark with concern.
He shook his head, his throat too tight for words for a second. The metal and leather band was snug, unyielding—a constant, firm pressure that somehow made his erection feel even more immense—more urgent.
“No, Mistress…that’s fine,” he managed to get out at last.
She hesitated, her gaze dropping back to his imprisoned length.
“But…will it hurt you? To be hard for so long, I mean?”
Braze shook his head again.
“I should be fine.”
It was mostly true. Kindred physiology was built for endurance, but ‘fine’ didn’t cover the aching, desperate need coiling in his gut. He couldn’t help looking down at her—at the breathtaking picture she made—sitting before him, her gorgeous breasts spilling from the cut-outs of her gown and her delicate hands cradling the most intimate part of him.
The contrast of her softness against his brutal hardness—her gentle care against his raw need—was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced.
Then she did something that stopped his heart.
Leaning forward, her eyes locked with his, she placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss right over the broad crown of his cock.
The sensation was electric—a white-hot brand of pure pleasure. Her lips were so soft, so warm. He felt his shaft surge violently against the constricting ring, a fresh bead of pre-cum welling up where her lips were pressed. A ragged groan was torn from his chest.
“Gods, Mistress! What are you doing? That would have made me come if I didn’t have this fuckin’ ring on!” he growled desperately.
She leaned back, giving him a mysterious, knowing smile that sent another jolt straight to his balls.
“Maybe that’s the idea. And anyway, can’t a wife kiss her husband?”
Feeling dazed—his world narrowed to the throbbing point where her lips had touched—Braze could only nod. The logic of the performance and the truth of his own desire fused into one undeniable command.
“You can kiss me anywhere you fucking want to,” he told her.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said lightly, as if they were discussing the weather. She rose from the bed in a swirl of dark blue fabric and glittering stars and—before he could quite process what was happening—her hand closed around him. Not on the shaft, but around the base—her fingers curling firmly around the ring itself, claiming it—claiming him.