“You came very hard. It was stunning,” she continued. “So I’d understand if you feel the need to relax. But as I said…” she trailed off, held his gaze, and then slowly released him before she straightened and moved to her bag on the table.
When she got what she needed and turned back, she could have wept with joy to see his head up, turned, and his body still arched for her.
She wanted to command him to sit back on his calves, straddle him on the floor, and kiss him so deeply, he’d wonder if their mouths had fused.
This before she rode that cock to another climax for him … and for her.
She didn’t do either.
She moved to him, giving him a look that she hoped shared her gratitude as she took the wet wipes she’d gathered and swabbed the cum from his chest.
She felt him watching her as she walked to the unobtrusive bin and threw away the spent wipes.
Ignoring the shadows at the windows indicating they did indeed have an audience, a large one, coming back to him, she crouched between his knees.
He was still semi-hard but had reduced in size enough that she could slide off the ring without causing him pain or harm.
He was clearly sensitized for he allowed a long groan to roll up his throat, and in a lovely gesture of submissive gratitude, he followed his ring (and her fingers) with his hips like he didn’t want to lose either.
“Seems I need to go shopping. My beast exceeds the size of my equipment,” she noted.
She looked to his face and saw a small smile playing at his mouth—cocky, a bit—amused, mostly.
“That might be a good idea,” he agreed.
“You’ll stay harnessed, chevalier,” she shared. “And you’ve greatly pleased me. Greatly. You can relax now.”
Instantly, he settled ass to his ankles and came up as far as the slack would let him at his collar.
She straightened and went down again at his back, effortlessly releasing the knots that bound him, relieving him of ties and collar, dropping them to the floor.
“Sit forward, Olivier,” she ordered from behind him. “You’re at ease. You may need to do some stretches to get the blood running to your arms and legs. But when you feel you can take your feet, please do so and go display yourself for me on the vault. On your back, ass back enough your legs fall open at the sides, but close to the edge so I have access to your cock and balls.”
He twisted his neck to look at her.
There was minor apprehension creeping in. He’d come. The experience was enough to sweep his mind free so he could give himself to her.
Rational thought, or irrational, however you looked at it (and Amélie considered it irrational), was intruding.
“As I said, my beast, you’ve pleased me greatly,” she continued soothingly. “When a toy pleases me, I give rewards. I’m not done with you yet.”
The last peaked enough interest he battled the beast and looked away from her, stretching his arms in front of him.
She left it at that, and moved to the table, lifting her hands to her hair at the nape of her neck.
She deftly pulled the pins out that fastened the soft twists of the chignon she’d curled there. She set them in a neat pile on the table, her back to the room and Olivier, her hands up, fingers moving through her hair.
When she turned, she was pleased to see she’d given him enough time. And he’d followed instructions. He was reclined on the vault, the old fashioned kind that was used in gymnastics competitions.
He was back far enough his powerful legs were spread off the sides, not quite dangling for they were too long. His feet rested on the ground but his legs were relaxed and falling wider open.
Next time, she’d have to remember to have the beam raised.
And, as well as the rest of him stretched across the vault, his cock and balls were exposed for touch and on display.
Yes, very much yes, he could get more beautiful.
She walked to his side, doing so seeing his head was up, chin in his neck, eyes on her in a way that was so deliberate, she knew he was focusing on her instead of the fact his beauty was exhibited to all in the club who wished to see.
It was crucial to focus him again.
She stopped close and looked down at him. His hands were up, resting on his chest.
She took one wrist and pulled it to her, flattening the palm against her breastbone above the opened neck of her button-up blouse.
Skin against skin.
His nostrils flared and his focus shifted.
Oh my.
She liked that.
There were no onlookers now. Just a touch from her and they’d melted away. It was Amélie and Olivier and his first touch of her, which he appeared to take as the gift it was.
“I’d like this, and the other one, chevalier, lifted over your head and holding on to the end of the vault, please,” she ordered.
He lifted his other hand to comply but she held the one to her chest for a longer moment, giving him that nuance more.
When she let him go, his hand lingered only a beat before he did as he’d been told.
“Now, Olivier, I’ve inspected you but I’d like to take that multisensory tonight. You’ve been so sweet for me I’d like you to feel free to stroke your cock as leisurely or rough as you wish when it starts hardening again.”
She swung back in surprise as the right arm whose hand she’d just laid against her chest came down and went right to his cock.
She looked that way and stared, fighting back an astonished blink.
He was not fully hard but he was getting there.