The Switch (8 page)

His eyes fell shut as he gave himself over
to the tactile sensation of silk, lace, and finally the satiny skin
of Marion’s thighs. When his fingers skimmed that bare flesh for
the first time, he sighed. The cock slid further past his lips, and
he found himself sucking with enthusiasm.

Inhaling deeply through his nose, his senses
drowned in the dark, sweet tang of her arousal, spurring him on. He
wanted to taste her, to feel that slick softness on his lips and
tongue, but couldn’t. She was so close, but just out of reach,
hidden and blocked by that silicon prop so wonderfully, sensually
wrong.

As he drew back, the head of the cock nudged
the roof of his mouth, catching briefly on his hard palate before
he sucked inward again. Marion’s thighs tensed for a second, her
breath audibly hitching. Grayson could have kicked himself for his
own stupidity.
Not just a prop, you dumbass.
Smiling to
himself, he changed his technique to better accommodate his
mistress’s pleasure.

She needed to stop him. What she’d intended
as an erotic lesson in power and sensuality was quickly spiraling
into need, uncontrolled desperation. Her teeth clamped down on her
bottom lip as the dildo suddenly angled perfectly, an intense bolt
of pleasure nearly crippling all sensibility.

Her fingers found his hair, tangling
frantically in those obscenely silky waves. Instead of pulling him
away, she cradled the nape of his neck. He did it again, this time
manipulating the shaft of silicon against her clit as well.

“Enough,” Marion said, but it came out
faint, too soft for him to hear.

Just a little more.

Her hips swayed into him almost
imperceptibly. She gritted her teeth against a moan. Between the
vision of Grayson on his knees, sucking her cock, and the thick,
swollen hunger of being filled but not quite -
there…

So close.

His hands gave him away: their touch firmer
now, less submissive, even gripping the backs of her thighs. He
knew damn well what he was doing to her.

“Stop.” Her voice was clearer, even as
another frisson of heat licked along her nervous system.

He ignored her for a fraction longer, until
she yanked on his hair, pulling him away.

“I said enough, Grayson.” Her knees still
threatened to buckle, but she made her words steel.

“My apologies, Mistress. I only wished to
please you.” Grayson’s eyes were downcast, but his smirk betrayed
him worse than his actions.

“That you presume to know what pleases me
better than myself warrants a third punishment,” she snapped,
stepping away to return to the bureau. “Kneel on the end of the
bed,” she added over her shoulder.

Once his back was turned, Marion set about
planning her next course of action. Inhaling shakily, she slid her
‘cock’ out, closing her eyes briefly against the nearly painful
need it left behind.

Not good
.

Never in all her time of being a Domme had
she been so close to losing control. Grayson’s client file and
termination form taunted her from the back of the dresser,
reminding her of just how inept she was where he was concerned. She
glared at it for a moment, then decided to use it to her
advantage.

“Your hard limits don’t mention anal play,”
she said, placing the used toy in a plastic bin before considering
a number of objects she’d laid out earlier.

“No, Mistress,” Grayson replied. His voice
was laced with tension of various colors.

Marion smiled to herself. It would be too
cruel; too much too soon, to actually fuck him with the
double-dildo. But oh, the very idea doused her apprehension and
filled her with more hunger.

“Yet your experience in that area seems
rather limited.”

He didn’t reply.

“Would you consider that to be accurate,
Grayson?”

“Yes,” he answered after a pause.

She traced her fingers over the slenderest
plug she had and frowned thoughtfully. No, it wasn’t quite the tool
she wanted.

“Exactly what experience have you had,
then?” She knew the answers he’d given in his interview. But she
wanted to hear him say it. Plus, there was the possibility he’d
explored those avenues further in the time since then.

“I’ve been… fingered. A couple of times,” he
said.

“How was it?”

No response, but she caught the shrug of his
shoulders in the reflection of the mirror. So tightly wound. And
his bottom still glowed a dark red from her riding crop. So
beautiful, and very much in need of tending.

Decision made, she turned. “Lie down on your
stomach.”

The lush bed sank under him, the rich,
multicolored quilt both smooth and rough against his skin, against
his hard cock. The strange intimacy of it set his nerves on edge,
so much that he jumped at her first touch.

“Easy, tiger,” Marion teased. “Relax.”

A groan escaped him as her thumbs ran a
deep, slick line along the contours of his calves.

“Spread these,” she commanded softly.

If he was hard before, his cock turned
turned granite when she eased his legs apart, the bed dipping as
she climbed between them. Again he was exposed to her, so
vulnerable and hot, unable to tell what she would do next.
Obviously it would involve his ass, and he wasn’t sure how to feel
about that.

The scent of amber and sandalwood filled the
air as she massaged his leg muscles with some kind of warm oil. His
eyelids grew heavy as she kneaded the tension out of his
hamstrings, but he couldn’t be farther from drifting off. Each
sweep of her hands drew her fingers higher, until she was
millimeters from his sac. Then…

He hissed an inhale, nerves crackling along
his spine. She’d grazed the tender skin of his backside with a
single knuckle. It was beyond sensitive, it—

“Hurts?” She paused behind him, resting her
fingertips on his warmed behind.

“Not exactly,” he managed, once his lungs
stopped spasming. It wasn’t a lie; at that point, pleasure and pain
blurred into something he just wanted more of.

She gave a little hum and shifted away for a
moment. When her hands returned to his buttocks, he gasped at their
sudden coolness. Then - bliss, as she gently worked her magic into
his flesh, whatever oil she used soothing with a clean, slightly
icy tinge. She didn’t stop there, but continued up his back, paying
dear attention to every inch of skin until his muscles felt like
warm, sweet liquid.

Right as Grayson’s mind began to relax along
with his body, Marion switched positions, straddling his thigh as
she knelt above him. He clenched his teeth - he could feel her
moist heat on the back of his leg. His cock took the reminder at
full force, pressing insistently into the mattress. It took every
bit of will he had not to grind his hips for a little bit of
relief.

Her touch changed, slowed to a teasing
caress, her body moving along with her hands now in a seductive
rhythm. When she reached his lower back, her hands slid along his
hips around to his front. He eased up enough to grant her access
between his body and the bed. A completely foreign sound passed his
lips as her fingers found him. A goddamned whimper.

Marion chuckled. “Is it so bad, pet?” she
purred, the soft heat of her hand enclosing his shaft and
squeezing.

It was terrible. It was everything he
wanted.

“Here, then,” she said, moving to his side.
“Lift up, but keep your shoulders and head down.”

She stroked his ass as he complied,
effectively holding him from front and behind. There was something
perverse about the embrace, making him feel once more helpless and
owned.

Like livestock.

Not that he could complain - she worked him
with torturous deliberation, but her grip was firm, commanding,
perfect. A slow shiver crept down his scalp to his toes, every
nerve tightening on alert as she traced the curve of his ass,
fingertips teasing along his crevice before lightly cupping his
balls.

Kneading, massaging, stroking, pulling -
Grayson’s entire state of being narrowed down to Marion’s touch.
When her thumb pressed into the flesh behind his sac, he groaned,
melting and igniting at once.

A sharp squeeze at the base of his cock.

“You will come only when I say you may,” she
said.

“Yes,” he hissed immediately, eyes shut in
bliss and consternation.

The stroking began anew, but she proceeded
to explore his ass at the same time. Apprehension blended with
anticipation as a single fingertip neared his entrance. He knew
enough of his own anatomy to want this, yet it was still taboo,
just this side of wrong.

Eyes squeezed shut, Grayson dug his hands
into the bedding when she reached his opening, barely tracing a
teasing circle there. Thank god she released his cock at that
moment, because he nearly spilled himself.

“How many?” Marion asked, lightly massaging
his anus now, but not pressing in.

“Pardon?” he mumbled. Hadn’t he already said
a couple of times?

“How many fingers?” she clarified. “Two?
Three? Just one?”

How could a question be so clinical yet so
intimate?

“Two,” he answered, not adding that they’d
been his own. The couple of women with whom he’d played in this
arena had been less than confident about it.

Her touch left him briefly, and the bed gave
a slight shift. Seconds later, she returned, the soft friction of
her finger slicked now, more insistent in pressure. Her other hand
resumed its place around his erection. Taking a deep, unsteady
breath, Grayson forced himself to relax and wait.

“Push out a little,” she gently coaxed,
making him feel like a clueless little virgin. But when he did,
that slow invasion made his head spin.

“Did you ever come?” she asked. Her finger
inched inward by fractions while she massaged his cock.

“No.”

Although I might very well right now.

He gritted his teeth and willed himself
under control. It wasn’t the physical sensation, but the illicit
nature of the whole thing - Marion McKellan, there, pumping his
dick and fingering his ass. He couldn’t have dreamed of a more
erotic fantasy. Of course he was hot. The brain was the biggest
erogenous zone in the body, after all—

“Fuck!” The air left him in a dizzying rush,
only to suck back in on a hard gasp.

What the fuck was that?

It happened again, a jolting sensation like
her finger was stroking him from the inside of his cock. His lungs
stopped working correctly. He was sure he’d just come all over the
bedspread, but he was still rock-hard. And behind him, that soft,
velvety laugh, low and full of sin.

“Remember what I said, Jones.” Her grip
tightened around him almost painfully, and he was grateful for
it.

His brain sluggishly turned over and took a
little bit of control back.

“Yes, Mistress. I - I’m sorry.”
Can I
have another?
he almost added.

He wondered if he’d said that last part out
loud, because her finger slid out, the tip lingering barely inside
his entrance, woefully unsatisfying. There it stayed while she
stroked his cock a few times, granting him a little relief but
nothing like the heavenly shock she’d given him with that single
digit.

“Tell me what you want, Grayson.”

That steady, controlled movement of her
right hand kept him just out of reach of climax. Her left hand
cupped his ass while she gently worked and stretched his
opening.

“More,” he managed.

Another finger pressed in, feeling dangerous
and almost painful. But still it barely passed a centimeter inward.
She was waiting, damn her.

“Deeper,” he rasped.

She complied, but still - no fireworks. He
shifted his hips, hoping to urge her to that magic spot. She
rewarded him by pulling almost completely out.

“Damn it,” he mumbled into the
bedclothes.

“What was that?” Her voice was laced with
amusement, but he knew better than to push it.

“Do it,” he said hopefully. When he got zero
response, he swallowed hard. “That thing you did, before.”

“You mean this?” she asked, and pushed back
in.

This time, instead of sudden, blinding
pleasure, a gradual swell of bliss rolled through the base of his
spine as her fingers lightly curled to tease that magic spot.

“God, yes. Oh, fuck…”

His cock was almost streaming precum, which
Marion used to coat her movements. How the hell did she expect him
to hold back from this? He rocked gently into the rhythm of her
hands, almost crying when she stopped.
So damned close…

Well, she didn’t stop completely, but she
was back to that stretching and stroking of his ass as she gripped
his root, effectively quelling his orgasm.

“Breathe,” she instructed, waiting until he
settled down enough to continue.

He lost track of how many times she did this
to him, winding him up to the edge and pulling him back. Each time
felt more desperate than the last until he was damn near frantic.
His balls ached and his body was covered in a sheen of
perspiration.

“Breathe,” she said again.

“Can’t,” he gritted, panting and swearing
under his breath when she pulled her fingers completely out. Surely
she wasn’t going to leave him like this. He was almost sick with
need. “Plea—”

“Shh,” she interrupted. “I’m going to fuck
you now, Grayson.”

He nearly wept with relief.

“In a way you’ve never been fucked,” she
continued. “Would you like that?”

“Yes. Yes, anything.” He absolutely meant
it, too. Even if she brought that double-dildo back out and fucked
him up the ass with it, he didn’t care. He only wanted -
needed
whatever Marion would give him.

The sound of a latex glove being peeled off
was followed by a condom wrapper tearing.