On the Razor's Edge of Paradise by Carolyn Faulkner

Author:Carolyn Faulkner [Faulkner, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Blushing Books Publications
Published: 2017-09-05T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 6

T he next morning, when I finally awoke, he was gone—which kind of surprised me since it was a Sunday morning and I knew he didn't have to go to work. But there was a single rose on the pillow next to me. I had no idea how he'd gotten it there, but it was a very nice, elegant touch to what had been a distinctly inelegant, downright rough night—for me, at least.

As I pressed the rose to my nose and inhaled its lovely scent, I ran the events of the past evening through my mind with a bit of a frown—especially when I moved and was reminded of just how hard he had pounded himself into me, taking his pleasure of me and leaving me wanting.

And wanting badly—it was probably the most sexually frustrated that I had ever been in my life. No one had ever told me that I could feel free to touch myself whenever I wanted to, though—the few Doms I'd been with had all immediately banned me from doing so—but I could see that his method was much more devious than theirs, allowing me to bring myself pleasure but never fulfill it.

I decided that he was a terribly awful man as I got up and headed for the bathroom, my gait very awkward and every step uncomfortable, very much as if I'd just gotten off a very large horse I'd ridden for a very long time, when it was the opposite of the reality. A very large horse had ridden me—several more times in the night and once—probably just before he left—in the rosy light of dawn.

All without the slightest scrap of completion thrown my way, not that he didn't tease and touch me, he did—all while watching me carefully for any signs that my climax was anywhere near imminent.

As I stepped into the shower, I considered my alternatives. I could just make myself come—he would never know. But I knew I couldn't do that. It negated everything I really wanted from him—if I wasn't going to allow him to control me—this exact kind of thing about me—then why not just find a vanilla guy and ditch the D/s?

My hands found myself—slick with body wash—and lingered there a bit, but I was so sensitive—had such a hair trigger—that I didn't want to press my luck and I quickly resorted to simply washing myself in a perfunctory manner instead of trying to stimulate myself any more.

I didn't need further stimulation—and I didn't really want to tell him to take his edging and stuff it—I liked him, a lot more than I wanted to at that moment. I just needed him to give me at least one, good, hard come! And it didn't look as if I was going to get it anytime soon.

My hair wet, dressed in comfortable pajamas he hadn't allowed me to don last night and a big, fluffy robe, I made myself some breakfast and headed for my chaise, where I ate as I checked my phone.

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