Free Bite the Bullet by Desiree Holt

trying to hold absolutely still when the soft pad of her finger brushed the head of his shaft.
    “Very impressive.” Her voice was soft.
    He nearly groaned. “I would like to give you pleasure with it.”
    “Would you now?” She stroked her finger down the length and back up again. “How very unselfish of you to offer me that. What else would you do to give me pleasure?”
    “Whatever my Mistress desires,” he gritted out.
    Her finger had moved between his thighs to drift like a whisper over his balls.
    “Is that so? Whatever I desire?” Her gaze roamed lazily over his body. “Are you saying you’re willing to accept me as your Mistress? As much as you’ve resisted any contact until tonight, I wonder if you can really do that.”
    He wasn’t sure he could, either. It had been so long since he’d actually ceded emotional control to someone that he wondered if he’d lost the ability. And if he was able to capitulate to her completely, what would he be like afterwards? How would she look at him?
    “I’m waiting.” Although she wasn’t smiling, her tone held a note of amusement. “I think you always hold some part of yourself back. That won’t work with me. I want it all.”
    Clint ground his teeth together. “I’ll give you all I can. For tonight.”
    He had to be specific about that. He desperately needed to do something to get her out of his system so he could move back into his comfort zone. The problem was, he sensed she had an equal desire to push him out of it.
    “Hmmm.” She wiggled her finger down his chest again and over the flat plane of his stomach, leaving a trail of fire every place she touched. When she reached his cock again, it was all he could do not to thrust himself toward her, silently begging for her touch. Her gaze locked with his, she closed her fingers around him and stroked up and down. Once. His balls tightened, and he laced his fingers behind his head so tightly he was afraid they might break.
    “Here’s what I want you to do,” Montana went on in a conversational tone. “I want to see you stroke this very fine looking cock. Slowly. Like this.” Another slow pass up and down. “Then, when I tell you, faster. But Clint. Do. Not.
    Come.”
    Her eyes burned into his, as if searching for the answer to what he refused to reveal.
    “I want to come in your pussy.”
    Shit, that’s no lie.
    “I think you already said that.” Her fingertip made another pass over the head of his throbbing erection. “But you have to earn that right.”
    She bent her head, licked the areolas around the clamps fastened to his nipples, tugged lightly on the chain between them. Then she leaned her hips against the table again.
    He knew she was waiting to see if he’d obeyed her command. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he set up a slow but steady rhythm, just as she’d ordered him to. Up.
    Down. Up. Down. How many times had he done this alone, visualizing her face and body? His balls tightened, and his cock swelled in his hand. The familiar tingle grabbed him at the base of his spine. He was too close, the climax eager to surge through him and break over his body.
    He slowed the pace of his hand, breathing slowly, willing himself not to explode. Montana watched him closely. He knew that an experienced Domme like her could tell when he was reaching the crisis point.
    “Stop. Now.”
    He swallowed a sigh that was part relief and part agony.
    Any more strokes and he wouldn’t have been able to contain himself. But the orgasm hovered painfully just beyond his reach. And oh, god, he wanted it. Badly.
    Montana reached out to his chest and very carefully removed the nipple clamps. Pain sizzled through his nipples at the sudden flow of blood, but in a moment another sensation rode through him as she bent slightly again and took one into her mouth. Her tongue slipped over it, brushing the pebbled surface while her lips tugged. Easing. Soothing.
    Clint tightened his grip on his cock, willing his