Maid for It (A Maids for It Novella) by Lucy Rodgers Page B

“I can’t,” he says softly. “Not when I need
to kiss you.”
    He bends down and captures my mouth with his.
It’s a long, leisurely kiss, almost sweet, and yet it fires every
nerve ending in my body with fresh, carnal longing. His tongue
sweeps over mine, dances in the hollows of my mouth. Trapped in my
shackles, I can only taste him with equal fervor, trying to
communicate the only way I can how much I want him, how much I need
him, how much I love him.
    Finally, he lifts his head. “I’m sorry,
Gabi.”
    The panic that’s never far from my mind
flutters in my chest. “Sorry? Why?” If he’s about to send me away
after all this, I might kill him.
    “Because I can’t wait to release you from
your shackles to be inside you. I have to fuck you now.”
    A laughing sob escapes me. “Oh God, please
do.”
    In no time flat, he’s behind me, his cock
probing my slick entry. He doesn’t stop to release the clamps or
remove the plug from my ass. As he tunnels into me, I’m so full,
both literally and figuratively, I feel I might burst at the
seams.
    The kiss may have been sweet and leisurely,
but his possession of me is swift and violent. It’s as if all the
emotions he’s been nurturing for the past two months have built
into this one moment. I didn’t know before where pain ended and
pleasure began; I’m not sure now where my master ends and I begin.
The fact that I’m held nearly motionless makes me feel even more
like an extension of him, the completion of his desires, the
embodiment of his will.
    He reaches between my legs and releases the
clamp from my clit. Blood comes rushing back and with it, the most
overpowering orgasm I’ve ever experienced. Every organ in my body
is involved—heart, lungs, spleen, liver—and every muscle from the
top of my head to the tips of my toes contracts and trembles. I
would collapse beneath him, but the shackles trap me, forcing my
liquefied limbs to support me even though that seems utterly
impossible.
    And through it all, he keeps fucking me. “Beg
me for more,” he orders.
    I won’t survive more, but I don’t
think I care. “More, Master, please, fuck me more.”
    His fingers find my clit, so raw and engorged
that his touch is agonizing, and with the other hand, he pulls on
the chain that’s attached to the clamps. Fire grips me, and the
climax that wasn’t even over yet begins again, harder and more
excruciating than before.
    I lose control of my limbs, my head sagging
forward. The shackle presses on my windpipe, but I can’t lift my
head to stop it or speak to alert him to my distress. Blackness
closes in, narrowing my vision, focusing my senses on the
unbelievable ecstasy coursing through my veins.
    If I die, it will have been worth it.

    An acrid, bitter scent rouses me to
consciousness. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”
    I wrinkle my nose and push away the hand that
waves the smelling salts beneath my nostrils. “Sleeping Beauty was
awakened by a kiss,” I grumble.
    Ben chuckles. “That can be arranged.”
    He sits on the platform beside me, and I
realize I’ve been released from my shackles. I’m lying on my back,
my head propped on something soft. The nipple clamps and the butt
plug are gone, too, although I’m still naked.
    He bends down and bestows a chaste kiss on my
lips. “Better?”
    “Not the same.” My voice is hoarse, and I rub
my throat reflexively. “I’m already awake.”
    “We could do it again if you like,” he
offers.
    Despite a low flare of heat at the
suggestion, I shake my head. “I’d love to. But later.”
    Did I pass out from lack of oxygen or from
pleasure? Does it matter? He seemed to know exactly what to do to
revive me, and he doesn’t appear the least bit perturbed by my
lapse into unconsciousness.
    He brushes a lock of damp hair away from my
forehead. “Too bad. I’m afraid I didn’t quite finish.”
    I follow the direction of his gaze to his
crotch. His cock still protrudes, erect and glistening with