The front door clicked shut as Sarah and James headed to the front drive. Sarah smoked too and as Cassandra went into the kitchen she knew it would be five minutes or so before they returned. Perfect amount of time to load the dishwasher and start on the main course.
The kitchen door shut behind her.
Cassandra turned, surprised.
Sir was staring straight at her. “Put down the plates,” he said. “And get over here.” He made a come-hither gesture with his right index finger.
A flash of heat went through Cassandra. She knew that tone of voice. What had she done wrong? Was it the slip-up of nearly calling him Sir? Oh, and just when she’d decided to be as good as she possibly could be.
She set down the plates and moved to him. Her heart was beating fast. His dark eyes flashed, desire and dominance burning from them.
“What is it, Sir?” she asked quietly.
He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her. He then backed her up so her spine touched the closed kitchen door. His right hand rested over the hollow of her throat, his big fingers spreading wide. He pressed his chest to hers.
Cassandra stared up at him. He looked so handsome and strong in his black shirt, and the feel of his hands on her made her want to melt.
What is he going to do?
“You nearly called me Sir in there,” he said, his lips almost touching hers.
“I’m sorry, so sorry, Sir. I guess it’s such a habit. It was an accident.”
“And how would we have explained that to our guests?”
“I don’t know, Sir.”
“They’ve seen the ginger root that I’ve prepared for your ass later, they may have put two and two together, and we’re not ready to tell anyone yet, we’ve agreed that.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “But I don’t think Sarah would guess the ginger root, it’s not how she is, I’m sure.”
“But it’s how you are.” He slid his free hand over her breast and squeezed. “It’s in your makeup, isn’t it. You’re a submissive, you just want to serve and take what’s given to you.” He kissed her, once, hard and fast. “You want to take it from the Master who loves you, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes, Sir.” Her belly trembled and her nipples spiked. Their friends were just outside the front of the house and he was talking like this. Touching her like this.
“I think you need to learn a lesson in self-control,” he said, his eyes narrowing.
“Yes, Sir. If that’s what you think, Sir.”
He slipped his hand lower and dragged up the bottom half of her dress, exposing her bare pussy.
“Are you wet?” he asked, sliding his finger through her lower lips.
“A little.” Who was she kidding? Her Master pinning her to a door with one hand at her neck and fingering her pussy—of course she was wet.
“Spread,” he said, tapping her ankle with the toe of his shoe. “Yes, Sir.”
She did as instructed and widened her stance.
“You’re going to come now, Cass. Really fast, really, really fast, because we have a meal to prepare for our guests.” As he’d spoken he’d slipped his fingers further between her legs. “And we don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Oh, but…” He pushed two thick fingers into her entrance.
Cassandra gasped. Her knees weakened and she was glad of his body supporting her.
“But what?” he said.
“But, oh…” He’d applied the heel of his hand to her clit. He was pushing in and out of her, rubbing hard too, stimulating her in a fast, deep massage. “But nothing,” he said then tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth. He pulled until it stung and her lip was stretched.
Cassandra gasped.
He released. “Come, come now on my hand, let me see how wet you are. How much you want me to shove that ginger up your ass later.”
Cassandra trembled. She gripped his arm and pulled in several quick breaths. He’d never ordered her to come like this before, on a time limit. Could she? Would she?
What if they open the front door? Try to open this one?
He was hand-fucking her with vigor. Sweet, moist noise filled the kitchen and she could smell her arousal.
“Come, come…” he said. “Let it all go, everything. It’s just us. I’m your Master, do as I say.”
He was right. He was her Master. She didn’t need to worry about anything. It was his job to listen out for Sarah and James, not hers. He would deal with the consequences for both of them if they were interrupted. She could let all of those concerns tumble away, slide from her mind, she just had to feel…
“That’s it, baby girl,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “That’s it, go to your special place.”
She was. The pressure was growing. He was building her up so fast.
His body shook, and his shoulder shifted beneath her clutching hand. He was going for it, taking her there.
Suddenly she was on the final climb. She sank onto his fingers and thrust her hips at his hand. Wanting more, needing more. She was about to topple into bliss.
“Yes, yes…” he said, satisfaction rumbling through the words. “Yes, come, oh fuck, so damn hot… So wet.”
Cassandra panted as release surged through her. Her abdomen tensed and she crunched forward against him.
He held her up—her supporter, her rock—and pushed her through her pleasure.
“Oh… Oh…” she gasped against his cheek. “Oh, Sir…”
“Good girl,” he said, slowing and stroking the column of her neck. “You feel better now, don’t you?”
She nodded. Not that she’d been feeling bad, but a swift orgasm between courses, so it seemed, was quite agreeable.
He pulled his fingers from her and slackened his grip on her body. The dress fell into place again, and Cassandra pressed her legs together. “Look at this,” he said, holding his moisture-coated hand between them. “Girl cum.”
She was breathing fast, her chest rising and falling and her underarms tingly with pricking sweat. “Beautiful,” he said, poking out the tip of his tongue and running it over his shiny fingers.
His eyelids fluttered shut and he sighed.
Cassandra suddenly wished their guests wouldn’t come back, that they’d decided to go home. That way she and Sir could start their serious playing now. Seeing him enjoy her flavor had sent rational thought from her mind.
She just wanted him.
“But,” he said, stepping back. “Much as I would like to bury my face in your pussy and sup from you all night long, that will have to wait.” He nodded at her. “Turn around.”
Cassandra did. She pressed her palms on the door, her legs still shaky from orgasm and her spine a little weak.
“Your dress is perfect,” he said. “No wet patch, not a hint of the dampness between your legs.”
“That’s good, Sir.”
“Yes, it is good, and I want it to stay that way.”
“Pardon, Sir?” She was confused.
“In a minute you’re going to sit down again to eat and entertain our guests. When you stand I do not want to see a wet patch. If I do, there will be consequences for you to deal with.”