Read Mirror of My Soul for Free Online Page B

the silk of the tie beneath her throat, out the other side, crossed it in back, twisted it in his fingers so she felt the tension, the pressure on the windpipe. He kept it halfway up her neck, away from the dangers of the lower areas, telling her not only that he’d done it before but that like everything else involving the pleasuring of a woman’s body, Tyler was consummately skilled.
    When she did it to herself it was a hard, dirty release, something that opened the door within her dungeon where all of her physical reaction to Mastering a sub was imprisoned. In the quiet of her bedroom she could strain against the pull, seeking the 24

    Mirror of My Soul
    explosive wave that would draw it all out in a rush of release so intense sometimes she wasn’t sure if it was the constriction of her air flow or the power of it that had her limp and dizzy, too weak to move for the remainder of the dead, lonely hours of the night, the belt and scarf loosened but still lying against her skin as her only company.
    This was entirely different. The moment his fingers twisted the tie, caressing the back of her neck and taking command and control of her reaction, something just shattered in her. She couldn’t get her hands near herself and all he was providing was the stimulation to her anus and this. Nevertheless, the beast rose in her, violent, dangerous, all-encompassing. She thrashed on the bed like an animal in a trap, seeking to pull against his touch, inviting blackness in before the choice was taken from her.
    He shifted, pressing his knee in the area between her shoulder blades, holding her to the bed so she was unable to rise up and put additional pressure on his hold. She sobbed against the gag, his probing fingers deep in her, releasing shudders, more and more shudders, until she was simply shaking everywhere inside and out, moaning senselessly. Her body was attuned to every touch of his upon her but her mind and her soul were focused on one thing. His hand holding the tie, controlling her. Her mind was filled with a screaming desire to simply be his. Always his.
    If her mouth had been free, she would have begged him to take her, to fuck her hard, to the point of pain and beyond to drive everything else away. He knew. He understood her in a way no one else did. She didn’t know how, only that it made her feel ways she didn’t comprehend. She didn’t know if that would be her destruction or salvation.
    His hand withdrew, found his way between her tied legs, his forearm hard against the curve of her ass. Cupping her mound, his unused fingers now took possession of her clit, his other hand taking another twist in the tie to lift her slightly, a leash drawing taut.
    Everything exploded. The orgasm tore through her body, bringing her off the bed, arching into his touch. He moved with her, keeping the tension on the choker as she screamed, so overwhelmed it was too much. She tried to move away but couldn’t. He was ruthless, stroking, working, dipping into her. Her wetness flooded his hand, as intense as the reaction of a man. It went on and on, as if the mere handful of days since she’d seen him at her place and the session at the Club tonight had all been foreplay, building and building. He was inside her now in every way but one and that was a formality. A formality she needed like a faith.
    She was convulsing, jerking against his hand with aftershocks when he withdrew his touch. He untied her legs and arms and removed the scarf. She curled her arms underneath her, like a bird folding in its wings. When his hand loosened the tie, began to tug it free, she twitched, made an involuntary noise of protest before she could stop herself. His fingers stilled, paused over it, then left it. He tied it so it was snug but with a knot that would prevent any dangerous slippage around her neck, then he had his arms around her, turning her.
    25

    Joey W. Hill
    She was still hungry, still aching. As he turned her to her back, she gazed up at