Under His Control – No Safeword Read Online Claire Thompson

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love, Kink Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
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Her eyes fluttered shut as his hand again cupped her sex. This time, he didn’t stop as he ground his palm against her clit, two fingers easing into her sopping cunt. His mouth closed over her second nipple as he rubbed her swollen labia and throbbing clit.

Ellen gasped and moaned, the pleasure of his touch blending with the burning pain of the small wounds on her thighs and at her breasts. Within seconds, she was ready to come.

“Please,” she managed, barely able to get the words out. “May I come, Sir?”

“Yes,” he growled. “You may.”

Bucking against her restraints, Ellen gave herself over to perhaps the most powerful orgasm of her life. It went on and on, holding her in its thrall until every last ounce of strength was zapped from her body. Finally, utterly spent, she went limp, her head lolling to the side, her eyes fluttering shut, her mouth slack.

She was vaguely aware as he ministered to her cuts, gently washing them with warm water, patting them dry and then applying salve and Band-Aids. Through it all, she floated on a lovely cloud of bliss, a deep and utter sense of peace pervading her spirit.

“I love you,” she whispered, not even caring if he heard.

Chapter 21

The next morning, Damon drifted pleasantly between sleep and wakefulness. Ellen had been amazing during the edge play. She’d worked past her fears to truly embrace the experience. He’d felt like a god, taking her to such an intense place with both the blood play and her resulting orgasm.

“I love you.”

Had she really said those words? Or had his own stupid heart heard what it wanted to hear?

Either way, this was dangerous territory.

Chill, he ordered himself. Even if she had whispered those words, he was overreacting. BDSM relationships, however brief, packed so much intensity into a short timeframe that it was easy to confuse those powerful, sometimes euphoric feelings with love.

He would just need to keep vigilant, for both their sakes.

Eyes still closed, he reached reflexively for his temporary slave girl. His hand met only empty sheets. Opening his eyes, he sat up and looked around. Ellen was on her knees on the rug beside the bed, her cuffed wrists resting on her thighs. He liked the way her upper arms hugged her breasts, creating an alluring cleavage.

The knife cuts from yesterday were healing quickly. He’d been very careful to keep them superficial, especially on her breasts. She had a faint red circle around each areola. The cuts on her thighs had been a bit deeper and showed evidence of scabbing. In spite of himself, he felt a swell of pride at her bravery the day before.

As their eyes met, she smiled. She had adorable dimples, one in each cheek. How had he not noticed that before?

“Good morning, Sir.”

“What’re you doing down there?” he asked, smiling back.

“Today is your day, Sir,” she replied.

He squinted in confusion. “My day?”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, lifting her chin with determination. “Every day so far, the focus has been on me. Don’t get me wrong. It’s been amazing. I’ve never felt so challenged or so thoroughly, wonderfully dominated. That’s why I would like permission today to be your service sub—to pleasure you, to pamper you, to serve you in every possible way.”

Damon sat and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I think that could be arranged.” He cocked a brow. “Though no guarantees how long I’ll last before I bring out the whips and chains.”

She flashed another dimpled grin. “Works for me, Sir.”

Slipping from the bed, he crouched in front of her. “Cuffs,” he said, per what had become their morning routine.

She lifted her wrists and he unclipped and removed the cuffs. Getting to his feet, he set them on the nightstand. “Let’s go, service sub,” he said, tapping her shoulder as he passed on the way to the bathroom.

After they brushed their teeth, he said, “Kneel by the toilet, hands cupped over the bowl.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said in a calm voice, her face serene.

How different from her reaction on their first day together. Was she only better at covering her reluctance, or had she truly come to a place of acceptance? Either way, he felt the usual rush of power as he towered over her, cock in hand.

It took a few seconds for him to piss, given the semi-erect state of his cock. When the stream hit her cupped hands he noticed the slight tension in her shoulders, but she was otherwise still and obedient.

When he was done, he leaned over her and flushed the toilet. “Have you peed yet this morning?”

“No, Sir,” she replied.

“Good.” He tapped her shoulder again. “You’re going to do it in the bathtub while I watch.”

“May I wash my hands first, Sir?”

He almost said no, just because he could. But he thought better of it, given what he had in mind for her.


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