Chapter 11

*****

In the bedroom Charlotte stands by the bed waiting, her head lowered in apparent submission but following me from under her lashes.

Clearly, she was expecting this and has dressed to be undressed.

Skirt and blouse….

… but no belt….

Instead, a bodice over the blouse….

…. Laced tight….

Dangling laces….

Drawn tight at the waist, the bodice it is almost a corset, emphasising her already good figure and turning curves into an hourglass. The skirt is flared and flirty, and as she moves, the flesh ripples under her shirt…

No bra….

But the bodice supports her full figure, lifting her breasts….

…. Presents her breasts….

And those laces…. They dangle from the two top eyelets, a temptation to any red-blooded male. They make my fingers itch to tug and pull.

She stands motionless save for her eyes, which follow me as I move around her, surveying her from all angles.

“Michael said he'd be here soon,” I say. “Let’s see if I can have you ready for him.”

I run my hands over her, slipping fingers under the hem of her skirt. My face in the nook of neck to shoulder, I teethe at her skin.

That fragrance….

Heady. Intoxicating. I want to drink her in.

I tug at her shirt. “I think we can dispense with this, wouldn’t you say?”

“I think so, yes, Master.” She blinks a little against the sunlight streaming through the window, so I twitch the curtains closed then stand back to watch her. “Show yourself to me.”

She unfastens the top few buttons of the shirt, giving me a view of her cleavage then, her glorious green eyes fixed on my face, twists at little from the waist, first one way and the other, displaying herself. The dimmed sunlight gleams over her skin, the sheen of her breasts contrasting to the valley of her cleavage.

More….

Striding forward, I tug the shirt up and free of the corset, flicking open the remaining buttons. Her breath hitches as I lift, pulling it free, then yank it away from her shoulders and off.

She’s semi-naked now, the bustier pinching in at her waist, slightly overlapping her skirt. As she rotates slowly, right, then left, her breasts swing with her, slightly overshooting each time, to ripple back again on the return.

Christ….

I’m trying hard to maintain ‘Dom severity’. We both know it’s only a game we play, but she loves it and so do I. And it’s not easy. My mouth is dry, and my cock is straining.

I want to bury myself in her.

Her nipples, pale rose against the porcelain of her skin are crinkled and taut, begging for my mouth.

And I’m happy to oblige….

“Get rid of the skirt,” I say.

She reaches back, tugging at the zipper before sliding down the filmy garment. Wearing only the bodice and tiny green lace panties, she stands, chin raised, waiting….

Snatching her by the shoulders, I spin her, then propel her backwards to the bed. As her calves contact the mattress, I keep pushing until she collapses at the knee to fall back onto the comforter. Before she can recover, I plant my palm between her breasts, pressing her flat.

Her eyes are like saucers; great green moons flecked with gold and bronze, the irises rimmed by a fine line in cobalt and the pupils huge, expanding to swallow the colour.

She lies there, panting, looking up at me. The demands coming from my groin are urgent, but I take the moment….

…. I revel in the moment….

…. watching my Jade-Eyes lying there, waiting for me.

A dark stain creeps over the green silk at the vee of her thighs and a bloom of scarlet flushes over her chest.

Without speaking, I hook thumbs into the panties, drawing them down over smooth muscle. Her perfume, already strong, floods my nostrils and my erection pulses another demand.

Not yet….

…. Gotta keep this going ‘til Michael gets here….

He wanted to hear her singing….

I push her knees apart, deliberately rough with her. My hands flat inside her thighs, her arousal trembles through my fingers and palms. She’s already in full flow, her pussy swollen and streaming, brilliantly red and pungent.

I drop to my knees and aaahhh…. warm breath over her. She shudders and moans.

Just a little….

Her clit is hooded, so I thumb back the fold of skin to expose the small firm bud.

Don’t overdo it yet….

I’d like to suck it, to make her scream….

Michael….

Where are you?

As gently as I am able, I lay the tip of my tongue over her nub; not moving, not caressing, simply enfolding it with my heat and moisture. She bucks and yells….

Enough….

And I back off, standing away from her to leave her lying on her back, trembling and gasping….

God, but this is fun….

I move slowly, intentionally so, unknotting my tie with deliberate movements….

Should I restrain her with it?

…. Wait for Michael….

So, instead, I lay the tie over the back of a chair.

Her gaze travels my body as, again taking my time, I remove my cuff-links, placing them in a trinket dish on the dresser. Unfastening my shirt buttons, I strip to the waist. The bulge below my belt is surely obvious now.

Keep her simmering….

Still standing, I lean over her, supporting myself on my arms. She quivers, and I stoop, as though to kiss, but instead, very softly, I blow. Tracing the tender line that runs from the hollow of her collarbone, over first one breast and then the other, I blow cool air over hot skin. Her nipples crinkle and pebble hard. Her skin gooses and something with no words escapes her throat.

But I don’t stop there. Trailing over the blushing skin of her stomach and through the delicate joining between belly and thigh, I lave my mewling mermaid in cool air….

Then I leave her, standing back to watch her tremble and quake.

How long has it been?

It must be half an hour now since I spoke with Michael.

Any time now….

At a leisurely pace, I nudge off my shoes, then unbelt, unzip….

Thank God for that….

…. and step out of my pants. Again, I fold them over the chair then, my shaft throbbing upright, I stand over her.

Time to up the ante….

Once more I drop to my knees, but this time, grabbing her ankles, scooping her up, I bend her back on herself. Her knees pressed back against her own chest, splaying her open with my hands on the back of her thighs, I plant my mouth over her hot and succulent pussy….

And she wails her appreciation….

Her thighs taut under my palms, she arches, straining against me. Swollen and deeply pink, her sex streams delectable juices which I lap and suck away….

From outside there is the crunching of gravel and the soft sound of a car engine….

Wonderful….

Right on time….

Scrambling up, crowning her, I take another glorious moment to anchor inside her, then I thrust in hard and she screams….

You want to hear her sing….

…. I’ll make her sing….

And I slam in again. Her answering yell is sheer music and my cock hardens further.

Not yet….

Not yet….

Very soon, I’ll be able to do this while I watch Michael feeding his cock to her face. It’ll muffle her singing, but the view….

From outside, the sound of footsteps rushing up the stairs, almost stamping up the stairs….

He sounds in a hurry….

I grin and meeting my eyes, Charlotte answers with a matching grin before flinging her head back as I bang home again.

The bedroom door slams open, bouncing back off its hinges and not Michael, but Ben, charges in. “You fucking bastard! You bitch!”

Charlotte’s expression switches from laughter to alarm as Ben, scarlet-faced and furious stands by the doorway, screaming abuse….

Christ. He’s going to attack us….

As fast as I am able, I withdraw from Charlotte, standing between her and Ben, ready to defend my emerald-eyed Love.