From vertical to horizontal, I clung to his h*ps as best I could. From horizontal to vertical, his c**k brushed my br**sts. With undeniable strength he forced me upside down, holding me steady.
I clamped my arms around his thighs, cursing the ropes around my shoulders not letting me hug him.
I jolted as a rush of hot breath brushed against my core. Oh, God.
My eyes squeezed, hyperaware of his mouth so close. I wanted it. I wanted another orgasm. His arms bunched, holding my weight. He jostled me, keeping me pinned with one arm while reaching for the hook with the other. His attention was wholly on stringing me up and not on the part of me screaming for attention.
“Hold on. I’m just securing—” His distraction allowed me time to revel in his hot form against mine.
I clutched him hard, cursing my jitteriness at the newness of what was to come. His body stretched and tightened, straining on his toes to secure the chain back onto its original hook.
The ropes tugged my back, curving around my body, cocooning me in a prison of silk.
“Let go, Tess,” Q ordered. His hands fell to my waist, trying to push me off him.
I only gripped harder. I didn’t trust it. Images of slamming onto my head gave me a phantom headache. Blood rushed to my skull, roaring in my ears.
“Let go, esclave.” Q pinched me, stepping away, forcing me to release. I swung, snapping into place, held by the chain. The ropes took my weight, tightening against my body, but not enough to strangle or cut off my blood supply. The knots Q had created kept it from slicing me.
Everything I knew was different. Up was now down. Down was now up. I felt awkward and uncomfortable and completely strange. My legs were bound loosely together, letting my knees fall downward like an upside down crouch, leaving me blatantly exposed and open.
My arms were tied to my body, giving no hope of escape.
Q disappeared and came back with a stool. With strength I’d always found such a turn on, he hoisted me higher, gradually shortening the chain until my mouth was at the perfect height.
Hip height.
Cock height.
I blinked, fighting a rush of nausea. It was surreal to be hanging upside down, so vulnerable.
Stepping off the stool, Q kicked it away. His hands whispered over my stomach, slowly changing my discomfort to eagerness.
Even upside down, Q painted an incredible sight. His legs were spread, powerful quads tight and covered in a splashing of hair. His c**k hung heavy and hard, perfectly straight and begging to fill me. His tattoo only added to his mystique and erotic allure.
Planting himself in front of me, he stroked my dangling hair before caressing my cheek. “I never thought I’d get to see you like this, Tess. I’m ready to f**king blow just thinking about all the delicious things I can do.” His touch turned dangerous as he cupped my breast. “Who’s your master?”
My eyes refused to stay open as he squeezed my nipple. “You.”
“Who do you belong to?”
“You.”
His touch danced over my sides, pushing me, making me spin slowly. His fingers trailed around my rotating body, never stopping their exploration. I flinched when he touched my burning backside and thighs, the tender skin way too sensitive.
“You’re my every fantasy come to life. I can’t believe you’re real.” His mouth kissed my upper thigh, his five o’clock shadow rasping. “I’m going to worship you.” His breath skated over my pu**y.
I moaned; I’d never been so sensitive, so aware of the predicament I was in.
His lips moved to my hipbone, nipping tenderly. “Do you know what I’m going to do first?”
I whimpered, closing my eyes, focused entirely on his words whispering over my skin.
“I’d planned on punishing you. I’d planned on marking you, like I did with the wax on your breast. I’d planned on doing so many things but my self-control won’t let me.” He spun me around, slapping hands on my smarting ass. “Do you know why I can’t?”
I shook my head, feeling heavy and slow with the rush of blood in my ears. “It’s because I need to be inside you. I need to claim you. I’ve marked you enough, and I have plenty of time to mark you after—but right now—I need to f**k you.”
I shivered. Lust replaced heaviness, flowing thick and fast.
Q brought me to face him. His c**k filled my vision; my mouth watered.
“However, before I can fill you, I have to do one thing. I promised. And I never break my promises.” His mouth came achingly close to my pu**y. His hands landed on very sensitive inner thighs, keeping me spread. I cringed in embarrassment, then cried out as he trailed his nose through my folds. “Goddammit, you smell divine.”
I twisted in the ropes. Lick me. “Q—”
“What was my promise, esclave?” His breath tickled my clit, making me jerk in the ropes.
“You said…” I couldn’t continue—his nose nuzzled me again.
“Go on…” He pulled away, leaving me throbbing for more.
“You said you would make me come on your fingers, tongue, and cock.”
“Good girl. And do you think you deserve my tongue?”
Damn his mental torture. I wanted to scream. I wanted to grab his head and force him to lick. But I hung completely helpless. “Yes…I deserve it. Please—give it to me.”
Q’s fingers bit into my flesh. “Ask nicely, Tess. Do you want me to taste you?”
I bit my lip, humming in acknowledgement.
My mouth popped wide as his tongue licked once—thoroughly and languishingly—over my entrance.
“Say please if you want me to f**k you with my tongue, esclave.”
My core liquefied. “Please. S'il vous plait. I want your tongue, maître.”
I groaned as his mouth latched over my pu**y. So possessive. So sure. His tongue swirled my clit, using the flat muscle to drench me in saliva before thrusting the tip deep inside.
Oh, my f**king God.
Fire replaced my blood. Gasoline seared my veins. Every heartbeat was a match.
The orgasm from before heightened the sensations, my stomach muscles clenched, my entire body wanted to run from his relentless tongue.
I needed something. I wanted to hold something. I demanded something to distract myself from the incredible, overwhelming pleasure. I was completely at Q’s mercy. The knowledge he could do whatever he damn well pleased turned me into a wobbling mess.