Virgin's Education: Bound and Pregnant Babysitter (BDSM Breeding Erotica) (4 page)

I sank into it for what seemed like hours.
Its quicksand honey enveloped me, hot spring therapy for all my
senses.

His fingers snapped, mere inches from my
face, and I opened my eyes. Everything was normal again. Well, as
normal as they could be after relishing the best pleasure of my
life.

He'd taken off his jacket and crouched near
my head, slowly stroking my hot cheeks.

“
Finally. I wondered if
I'd have to take care of myself while you slept.” He smiled,
sliding one hand up my arms and stopping to finger the handcuffs on
my wrists.

“
What do you need?” I
asked.

I knew he expected me to return the favor in
some way, and I was ready. Right then, I was prepared to give him
the world – especially if it meant more of those universe
unraveling climaxes for me.

“
I'm tempted to take your
sweet virginity right now.” He paused, waiting as I focused on him
with surprise. “But I'm not going to do it just yet. Soon, but not
today. I want you to get used to my heat all over your body. Prove
you're as talented as you are beautiful.”

I heard a sound like tiny wings fluttering.
Realizing it was his zipper, I followed his fingers and peered
down.

He pushed aside the opening around his
crotch. His thick fingers worked aside his pants and boxers,
freeing his cock from its business attire.

“
Tongue it. Put it between
your lips and show me what you can do.” His face hardened and he
shifted his hips, bringing it close to my face. “Go ahead. I know
you're new to this, and I don't expect perfection right away. We
can learn together.”

My knowledge of oral sex didn't extend
beyond teenage chatter and crude jokes I'd heard back in High
School. I doubted the reality was anything like the dark, humorous
whispers.

There was only one way to find out...

My hands tugged nervously on their
restraints and I leaned my head. Slowly, he slid between my lips,
and I breathed deeply, opening myself to accommodate his
thickness.

It wasn't ugly or foul tasting like I
expected. Quite the opposite.

Mr. Oliver had a very lovely erection, a
powerful thing like a thick root lined with veins.

Something about the way it throbbed against
my tongue instantly turned me on. With new lust as my muse, I
licked his underside, stroking him the same way he'd done to
me.

Brushing my tongue around the big head did
the trick. His breathing grew more ragged, broken by occasional
throaty groans whenever I applied pressure around the crown.

Yes, that's it. I'm all open for you, sir.
Fuck my mouth.

My jaw tingled as I opened as wide as I
could. Attuned to my cue, he slid himself into me faster, using my
wet lips for friction as my tongue massaged him inside.

I cleared my mind,
focusing on bringing him as much pleasure as possible, delivering
my grateful heat straight to his loins.

His cock grew stiffer and hotter in my
mouth. The hand he'd placed on my shoulder began to tighten. I
barely had time to prepare for his transformation before he went
into full climax.

Growling, he jerked out of my mouth. I
watched in stunned silence as his hand wrapped around his
erection.

Pumping it furiously, he ballooned and
spasmed, spraying a thick white jet of hot cream at my chest.
Several more milky streams came like lightning, splashing my
neckline and the edge of my dress before I could react.

I closed my eyes and lifted up, offering my
breasts to him, not caring if he ruined my summer outfit in the
process.

This is about submission? Surrender? Well
then, Mister, here you go.

I weathered his shower, steadying my
breathing, quietly wondering what he'd turned me into in the space
of an hour. The molten stream thinned, and turned into slow, milky
droplets.

Satisfied and spent, he swung his leg off
me. He sat on the edge of the bed next to me, his face slightly
lowered.

Then he got up and retrieved tissues from a
small dresser across the room. He didn't look at me until all of
his seed had been dabbed up.

I reluctantly watched the spots drying on my
skin. A shiver ran through me.

It seems so wasteful – especially when I
wanted it deep inside me. It felt like the only place it truly
belonged, though I didn't dare question his choice. I simply
accepted his shower as a blessing.

I relaxed when he came back to bed and laid
next to me. He reached up and released my hands, slinging the
handcuffs over to the empty space on his side.

Cautiously, I laid my head on his chest. He
didn't protest. His arm hooked around my neck and let me settle
in.

We dozed together. In my dreams, I savored
the sound and heat of his heart, a comforting tempo that walled off
the world's insane complexity.

“
Can you find the doggy,
Flynn?” I smiled, watching the young boy fidget as the screen on
his tablet refreshed.

After a couple seconds, he placed his hand
on the silhouette of a greyhound, and the software barked happily.
I clapped my hands and tickled his shoulders, listening to his
laughter.

“
Now, what about the
heart? Which one is the symbol for love?” My voice
softened.

I looked over his head as he stared at the
three choices on the screen: a bright pink heart, a glowing carrot,
and a jumping music note.

Funny. His question is the same as mine.
What's the symbol for love in this household?

The last couple weeks came roaring back. Mr.
Oliver had made his presence known in the house, taking longer
breaks away from the office.

Most nights, he came in long after I'd
fallen asleep, creeping into my room. The last time he'd taken me
as a submissive, I'd woken up cuffed to my own bed.

“
Keep your voice down. We
can't have my son waking up across the hall. I'm going to toy with
you tonight, and you're going to hold everything in. This is your
chance to savor your pleasure in sweet silence.
Understand?”

I shook my head, biting down on the purple
rubber strapped around my mouth. The gag he'd gotten me wasn't
uncomfortable, but I couldn't resist the urge to bite it.

Unable to answer him with
words, he watched my eyes instead, seeking the starlight twinkling
in my pupils that said,
Yes,
Master.

As soon as he saw it, he got between my
legs, hiked up my nightgown, and buried his face in my steaming
center. Sharp, sensual licks hit me like the world's smallest
storm, growing in my body as it absorbed his energy.

He hadn't taken my virginity yet. And he was
much more patient than I – a freakish surprise I wasn't entirely
enjoying.

God, I wanted him inside me. Each time his
lips closed around my clit or mine encircled his cock, I thought
about how wonderful it would be to go all the way, indulging
ourselves in carnal delirium at the same time, rich as nature
intended.

A labyrinth of hidden
ecstasy throbbed in my hot blood, its whispers rumored in his
kisses landing on my naked flesh. I felt it painfully close, and I
wanted it
bad
.

So bad I fucked back at his face, his hands,
my hips undulating like a machine designed to manufacture bliss.
But I really wanted it to make seduction.

I wanted to make him overload, to release
the beast within him off its chain. To have what I wanted most,
there were only two options.

He'd do it on his own time – the horror! –
or else I'd have to overwhelm him, make him a slave to the fire we
shared.

Oh, please. Please, please, please...

Later, he flipped aside the gag and shoved
his way into my mouth. I sucked him furiously, pivoting my teeth to
sink toward his erection whenever the strokes were too shallow. He
had to go deep to get off, as deep as I could handle.

That's it, Mr. Oliver. You like stretching
these lips, smearing yourself across my tongue, spilling your seed
down my throat, don't you?

Imagine, sir. Just imagine what it'll feel
like in a tighter, warmer place where there are no teeth. Where
there's nothing but pure fire, an eternal flame lit in prayer for
your offering.

His head snapped back. He came in my
mouth.

I steadied my tongue, continually circling
his big head as it spasmed in my mouth. Hands tensed on my temples,
he growled and pistoned his hips between my lips, fast and feral
like he needed the gag himself.

After we finished, he laid with me. I
watched his eyes close sleepily, knowing he'd be gone in the
morning when I woke.

If it wasn't business, then it would be an
outing alone with Flynn, leaving me alone with my mad
fantasies.

His gaze was darker than usual, needier. Had
he really understood my ache in the language only flesh knows?

“
Heart,” Flynn said
uncertainly, like a voice from another world.

His little fingers tapped the big pink
loops. A trumpet blew from the speakers, and I watched as a cartoon
cupid flew from the corner, giving him a thumbs up and a goofy
smile.

I shook my head. “Very good!”

The game refreshed and showed the finally
tally. He'd scored a hundred percent. Perfect, just like his
father.

“
Alright, young man. Let's
set that aside for now. Looks like it's time for your Brain Ball.”
He laughed and bounced eagerly as I walked over to his closet to
retrieve the new toy.

The musical ball was impressive, even to me.
I turned a button, set it next to him, and it began to roll on its
own. Lights flashed and a jaunty tune about numbers played. Flynn
rose and chased after it, as fast as his tiny legs would carry
him.

I relived Mr. Oliver's perfection inside my
head, the glory he'd given me five days ago.

I hadn't heard from him since. I hadn't
heard his Lexus rumbling into the vast garage – not even in my
dreams.

There hadn't been anything except a text
announcing a business trip to Mexico. It was plausible enough,
sure, but...what if something else had happened?

What if he's tiring of you? He's had his
fun. You didn't meet all his expectations, and now he's off to a
professional bondage club where the girls are a thousand times more
beautiful and exotic.

Anxiety rose up and lassoed my heart,
sending its cruel tension through my muscles. I shouldn't have
allowed myself to think that way. But old habits die very, very,
hard...

It hurt to smile. I fought to keep up the
front with Flynn, taking it one day at a time.

I had to do my job – the part that was on
record and receiving pay, anyway.

I served the boy three meals and a snack
with the biggest grin I could manage. Ditto for helping him with
games and education.

It was ten days and counting since I'd last
heard from Mr. Oliver. I ticked them off on my hands, pushing the
boy in a small wagon as we crossed several blocks to the nearest
park.

While he occupied himself on the swing set,
I sat on the nearby bench and counted again, just to be sure.

When the hell is he coming back? I'm
starting to lose faith...

I teared up. My lips quivered, and I hissed
as a single teardrop fell from my eyes, shameful and hot.

Thankfully, a wild turkey emerged from the
trees and ran into the nearest brush. Flynn hopped off his swing
and tottered after it, forcing me to get up and deal with the
welcome distraction.

I held his hand. The boy looked up at me,
confused and frustrated.

“
It's okay, little man.
When you're a few years older, maybe your daddy will take you on
all the turkey hunts you can handle. We'll ask him when he comes
back.”

I had to carry him the last block to the
mansion. The cleaning crew had arrived and started on the floors
shortly before we left, and now they were packing up and about to
leave.

An older woman named Margarita flashed me a
friendly smile. I waved, but looked away. My heart wasn't in it,
and any contact with another adult right now came dangerously close
to setting me off.

I settled into my guestroom after putting a
very sleepy Flynn down for a nap. I wasn't sure if I fell asleep,
or if I was in that uneasy state between consciousness.

A loud ringing in the house caused my eyes
to snap open. It took several seconds to realize it wasn't the
alarm I'd set on my mobile phone.

“
The doorbell,” I muttered
to myself, throwing my legs over the bed and rapidly ascending
toward the main door.

“
Special delivery, Miss.”
A man in thick spectacles shoved a slip toward me to
sign.

“
Another delivery?” I
asked.

“
That's right. Our
freshest specimens. Engraved, just like the order says.”

I stared in disbelief as a
huge bouquet of roses with silver and gold wrapping around them
folded into my hands. The crinkly wrapping paper sparkled in the
sunlight, a yellowish haze spilling across the horizon as the sun
began its long march toward darkness.

I murmured a thanks and stepped inside. In
the kitchen, I turned the flowers over and over again, unable to
stop smiling.

As much as I tried, I couldn't find any card
attached to them. They'd obviously arrived in silence, meant to
warm my heart without words.

Wait. What else did that man say about
engraving?

I gently let one flower slip above the rest,
eyeing its delicate crimson petals. My eyes needed time to adjust
to the dark gold ink tenderly burned into the flowers flesh.

With these roses, you'll know that I care.
And when I return, you'll confess everything, just as I am now.