He slowed and calmed. Buried deep within her, he broke the kiss. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
“You’re not so…bad yourself, Sir.” She stroked her hand down his face.
He relaxed his grip on her buttock then lifted her legs from his shoulders and straightened.
“Mmm…” he said, gripping her waist and giving several more, languid thrusts into her, watching his cock disappear into her pussy. “So fucking wet and hot. I want to stay here, forever.”
“Then do so.” She let her legs hang over the edge of the table, too weak to do anything else with them.
He looked up. “Don’t tempt me.”
Withdrawing, he sat and pushed her thighs wider. “How is the burn?”
“It’s like you said, it’s plateaued off.”
“You want to keep it in?” “I think that’s enough for a first time.”
“I agree.” He pulled the root, twisting it slightly.
Cassandra gasped as the movement seemed to inject fresh spiced heat to her delicate tissues.
“You okay?”
“Yes, Sir.” He slid it from her and placed it on the floor.
A few minutes ago Cassandra would have been relieved that the ginger had gone, but now she felt strangely bereft. Yes it had been intense, a new type of pain, but she had a feeling she’d be begging to be ginger-figged again before too long.
“Come here, baby,” Sir said.
Cassandra arched the base of her back, and he slid one arm into the gap then placed his other around her shoulders. He lifted her from the table into his arms, hugging her against his chest.
This was one of Cassandra’s favorite parts of a scene. Sir was so good at aftercare— attentive, gentle, soothing, and he always made her feel so loved and adored and as though she’d pleased him more than any other woman on the planet could.
He paused to blow out the candle and flick the dining room light off. He strode across the hallway and into the bedroom then rested her on the bed.
The sheets were cool and soft and Cassandra sank into them, enjoying the cushioning after the hard table.
“Be still,” Sir said.
Cassandra did as he’d asked.
Very gently he removed first her right then her left earring. He placed them on the dressing table.
Cassandra watched his naked form. He was so damn gorgeous, like a Greek god or a Michelangelo vision. How the hell had she gotten so lucky as to find someone she was so compatible with? Not just in life, but in kinks too. And to top it all he was a treat for her eyes every time she saw him. He was getting better with age, like the rioja he loved.
He walked up to the bed again and placed his fingers in her hair, searching for pins.
She stared at his softening cock. Even turning flaccid, it was thick and wide, the head a graceful flare with a ridge she knew sent him wild if she flicked it with the tip of her tongue.
One by one he pulled the pins from her hair until it fell around her shoulders. He ran his fingers through it, checking he had them all.
“I’ll just get the cream,” he said.
“Okay, Sir.” He went to the special cupboard, and she admired his buttocks as he walked then enjoyed it when he bent to retrieve the tube from the bottom drawer.
When he stood and straightened, he paused for a moment and looked at her. “Enjoy the view?”
“Every time, Sir.”
He grinned. “Good.”
After sitting on the bed, back rod straight against the padded headboard, he patted his lap. “Over you go then.”
Cassandra’s buttocks were hot and stinging and she was ready for the soothing balm. She crawled over him, her mound on his thighs and her chest on the bed. She crossed her hands beneath her chin and rested her cheek on them.
The lamp in the corner spread small diamond shapes over the wall and she stared at them as Sir unscrewed the cap.
As usual he placed his hand in the small of her back, as though to keep her there while he applied the cream. But she wasn’t going anywhere. This was her place in the world, over her Master’s knee.
THE END