“I was wrong about you. I thought you would be almost as bad as the priest to play with.”

“And?”

“You’re worse.”

Such a compliment could only be rewarded with a round of passionate, thorough and vigorous cock-sucking. She stroked him as she sucked him, running her hands over his thighs and his scarred chest. It must have been the worst sort of torture to experience so much pleasure—pleasure that left him breathless and groaning—knowing he couldn’t come lest he face a very unpleasant consequence. Kingsley hated cock rings almost as much as he hated collars. But they weren’t a hard limit, which meant she could use one on him if he misbehaved.

She almost hoped he misbehaved.

But not yet. No coming yet. She wanted to enjoy this night for herself, for her own private reasons. Something bad had happened between her and Kingsley and she feared the rift between them would always be too vast for either of them to traverse to the other side. But here they were, baring their true selves to each other again, his masochistic side, her dominant side.

Nora saw Kingsley’s fingers clench into fists. A thousand nights with him had trained her to recognize that meant he was close to coming. She stopped sucking him and sat back on her knees.

Slowly he opened his eyes.

“I hate you,” Kingsley said.

“That hurts, King. That stings.”

“Do you know what hurts? Having an erection and being two seconds from coming and your domme stops sucking you off.”

“That is a very sad story. Tell me more.”

“I’ve created a monster.”

“You didn’t create a monster,” she said, leaning forward and putting both hands on either side of his head. She kissed his earlobe and bit it hard enough to make him flinch. “You just let her off her leash.”

She kissed him on the mouth before he could answer. From inside the top of her right boot she pulled out a condom. Kingsley’s head fell back, and he muttered a heartfelt “Dieu merci.” Thank God.

Nora left the throne and grabbed her lube and a small vibrator that fit over her finger.

“Oh...tingly,” Kingsley said as she rubbed him with the lubricant. She massaged him for a long time, long enough he started panting again. “How much longer are you going to torture me?” Kingsley asked, half smiling, half grimacing. He was brutally hard and still pulling on his wrist restraints. She wondered idly what he would do to her if he managed to escape his bonds. Probably a sex act still illegal in thirty-nine states. Too bad she’d tied him up so well.

“For the rest of your life, most likely,” Nora said. “In one way or another.”

“Good.”

“Now sit there like a good boy while I use your cock to get off.”

“Use me,” Kingsley breathed. “Use all of me.”

The throne was large enough for the both of them and then some. She straddled his lap, took his erection in her hand, and inch by inch, lowered herself onto him, sighing with pleasure as he filled her. He felt so good inside her, so big and hard and deep, it almost seemed like a crime to take money for this.

Not that that would stop her. She had a laptop to buy, after all.

Nora turned on the finger vibrator and pressed it to her swollen clitoris. Kingsley inhaled sharply.

“What did you feel?” she asked, as breathless now as he.

“You clenched,” he said. “I could feel it all around me. Felt like being squeezed by a hand.”

“You mean this?” She clamped her vaginal muscles down on him again and he gasped.

“That...is obscene,” he said between breaths. “Do it again.”

“What do we say when we want our Mistress to use her pussy to massage our cock?”

“S’il vous plaît, Maîtresse? You are the most beautiful mistress in the world and my body belongs to you for the next...” He glanced over her shoulder to the pendulum clock on the wall. “Twenty-three minutes.”

“Better make the most of you, then.”

She rocked her hips forward, the vibrator buzzing against her clitoris. Beneath her, Kingsley lifted his hips, moving with her and against her in slow undulations. Every thirty seconds or so she would concentrate solely on her inner muscles and clench them tight. Every time she did it, Kingsley rewarded her with a sharp intake of air. She cupped the back of his neck and kissed him again. Locked together like this, she couldn’t move much, but she didn’t have to or want to. Right now she wanted to stop time, rush nothing, enjoy every inch and every second and every shuddering ragged breath.

“It’s good to be in you again...” he murmured against her lips. “You stayed away too long.”

“I’m back now.”

“You won’t leave again?”

“Of course not. Who would beat the hell out of you if I did?”

“Life,” he said. And it was such an adorably cynical French thing to say that Nora laughed and kissed him.

The kiss turned passionate, then torrid. Her blood burned in her veins and she gripped Kingsley’s shoulder to ride out the orgasm that tore through her, sending currents of electricity in waves and spikes and delicious tremors.

As she caught her breath, she managed to ask him, “Did you come, too?”

“Non.”

“You didn’t?” As hard as Nora came, she assumed everyone else in the world had orgasmed, as well.

“You haven’t given me permission to come.”

“Oops. I knew I was forgetting something.” She reached above his head and untied his hands from the top of the throne. She lifted herself off him and knelt between his knees. “I’m letting you go but only to change positions.”

“I will fuck you in any position you name as long as you let me come,” he said.

“Don’t tempt me. I have new suspension toys to try out,” she said, glancing up at the ceiling where the suspension rig awaited its first victim. “How do you want to fuck me?” she asked, as she unstrapped both his ankles. Kingsley reached down and held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her to him.

“I can have you? Any way I want?” he asked.

“I think you’ve earned it.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her breasts to his chest. His skin was so hot it burned to the touch. Or was that her? Weeks ago he’d warned her that she’d never have the physical strength of a man, and he proved it by lifting her easily off her feet. She twined her legs around his back instinctively and he turned them both, pushing her back into the throne and draping her legs over each chair arm. She flinched when he penetrated again. He was so deep she felt him against her cervix. When he thrust again, however, he hit every spot she wanted him to hit. He was kneeling on the seat of the throne, pinning her to the back, pushing into her with long but fast thrusts. Nora clung to his shoulders, and he held her in place by her hips. She felt so wet and so open that she would have let him pound her like this all night if he wanted. They were both switches, her and Kingsley, and in this heated moment she thanked God for making her this way. She could be like Kingsley and have it all. Kingsley had a submissive he owned, Juliette, and could play with whomever he wanted as long as he gave his nights to her. In secret he had Nora who would be his Mistress, his Queen of Pain. And she could have that, as well. Clients to dominate, Kingsley to brutalize and use for her own private pleasure. And maybe if and when she needed it, she could ask Kingsley to hurt her and to use her just like this—pushing her back to the wall and fucking her raw. Oh, yes, it would be good to be the queen.

“Please, Maîtresse,” Kingsley said, his voice sounding pained.

“Come,” she said. “Whenever you’re ready, come for me. I want it.”

He increased the speed and pressure of his thrusts and Nora kissed his neck. At the instant she knew he was about to come, she sunk her teeth deep into his shoulder, hard enough to break the skin. Kingsley let out a beautiful wounded cry and shuddered in her arms. Entangled in each other’s arms and legs, they eased into the seat of the throne, the king and queen, spent but united.