“Teach me?” I whisper.
Sitting down in his chair, he pulls me between his thighs and undoes his belt and flies. I rub him through his underwear, enjoying the thick, hot outline of his shaft. I grow bolder, tugging down the waistband of his underwear and revealing his cock, hard and swollen with veins. I’m not afraid, though perhaps at seeing the size of him I should be. I trace my fingers along his generous length, and he’s velvety and hot to the touch. Tentatively, I reach out with my tongue and lick him. He tastes slightly musky, a pleasant taste, and I move a little closer to take the hot tip of him into my mouth.
Mr. Blomqvist pulls the elastic from my hair, and it tumbles around my shoulders. “Beautiful girl,” he murmurs in that deep, gravelly accent of his, gently fisting my curls in his big hands.
A thrill goes through me. He likes what I’m doing, even though I’m just making it up as I go along. I gather wetness onto my tongue and run it over his shaft, and he hisses in pleasure and grips my hair tighter. I take him deeper into my mouth, and then suck up and down slowly, enjoying the way he feels against my tongue and the small sounds of approval he’s making. He wraps his legs around me and pulls me closer, and I revel in the strength of him around me. Protecting me and desiring me.
I suck him in rhythmic motions, using the drag as I pull up to pleasure him. Beneath my fingers, I feel his belly tighten and his breath deepen. His head tips back, and as he comes he lets out the most delicious groan. My mouth floods with that same musky taste, but stronger and salty-sweet, and very Mr. Blomqvist-esque. I like it, but I lean over into the wastepaper bin and spit.
“Sorry,” I mutter, dragging the back of my hand across my mouth. “Can’t really swallow, um, anything.” Not even semen, apparently. How many calories does—
That’s what I’m thinking about right now?
Mr. Blomqvist doesn’t seem to notice I spat. He reaches down and pulls me up into his lap, holding me tightly against him. Still breathing hard, he kisses me deeply, tasting himself on me with his tongue. “That was fucking amazing, sweet girl.”
“You liked it?” I ask, fishing for more praise.
He makes a nnnng noise in the back of his throat. “Very much. Do you enjoy our little meetings, Lacey?”
I wrap my arms around his neck and wriggle until my sex is pressed against his cock through my underwear. “God, yes.”
“How is this affecting you? Out there I mean.”
Out there as I get on with my everyday life. I think for a moment. “You’re scarier than anything else I’m afraid of. I don’t know what you’re going to do to me in here, and that’s a good thing. It clears all the clutter out of my head.”
Mr. Blomqvist is silent for a moment, tidying the riot of curls around my face. “I’m glad, käraste.”
“Thank you for being so sweet to me,” I whisper. I like when he’s a prick, but I love these tender moments even more, when we’re quiet together, just holding each other.
“I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul. She bruises far more easily.” He plants a kiss on my nose and hands my hair elastic back. “I want you to know you can confide in me if you ever want to. I can take whatever you throw at me, käraste.”
His eyes are filled with meaning. Somehow I don’t think he’s talking about me accidentally kicking him.
Chapter Eleven
Stian
A whole hour of Lacey to myself every day, Monday to Friday. In my free moments at the gym and driving to work, I plan the progression of each of our sessions together over the next few weeks, mentally upping the intensity each day. I want to test her limits and find out what she can withstand. Not to be cruel, though there is a sadistic pleasure in watching a sub shaking and whimpering in pain that she’s bravely enduring for me. The plan isn’t to break her. The world is a slightly less scary place when someone’s taken you to your limits, and you haven’t broken down and begged for mercy.
I see Lacey unfurling as the days pass. She smiles more easily, especially at me. She walks taller and her eyes are brighter. It’s like watching a neglected, battered flowering plant tentatively opening up again under my care. I think she must have pruned away much of her enjoyment of life after she became sick, and now it’s coming back to her.
A week after I give her a forced orgasm, I decide it’s time to try something new. She hasn’t been naked with me before, so I prepare her by taking off her top and bra, looking steadily into her eyes as I do. No flinching. No shyness. Her nipples are dark and tight, and I suck each one into my mouth, listening to her gasps of pleasure.