Sunday Snog 234: Never Too Late (#bdsm #romance #sundaysnog)

My Sunday Snog today is from “Never Too Late”, one of the two stories in D&S Duos Book 2. It’s not your typical BDSM romance. The protagonists are middle-aged strangers who meet at a conference and recognize one another as soul mates.

Get your copy of D&S Duos 2 here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00T8G2IMU/

When you’re done with my kiss excerpt, head back to Victoria Blisse’sSunday Snog page, for more sexy oral action!

"Look up, over your head." Leather cuffs, fastened to the headboard by clever straps. I swallow hard. My clit throbs, aching for stimulation.

"Do you always bring sex toys when you attend a conference?" I try for lightness, humor, anything to defuse the intensity. Does he really intend to tie me up?

"Not always. I had a feeling about this one, though..." He runs his thumb along the line of my jaw then slips it between my lips. I suck on it with the same enthusiasm I lavished on his cock. "I've been waiting for you a long time."

I've been waiting for him, too. I never knew, never realized. The comfortable, happy years with my husband and kids – the birthdays, the graduations, the snug, familiar, ordinary times – are suddenly as insubstantial as the fog gathering over the harbor. His hands on my body and his iron will are my only realities.

"Do you want me to bind you, Elizabeth?" He knows the answer but he's going to force me to say it out loud.

I can't bring myself to admit it. Heat crawls into my cheeks. I want to look away, to escape from those eyes tunneling into my soul, but he won't allow me to do so. "Well? If you don't want the cuffs, we can forget about them..."

"No!" I sputter, afraid that he means it. "I want them. Please." Now there's a huge sense of relief, magnified by his satisfied smile.

"Of course," he says, raising my arm above my head and snapping the snug bracelet around my wrist. "Whatever you want." In an instant, the other wrist is secure. The sensation of helplessness is overwhelming.

"I'm going to fuck you now, for the first time," my master tells me. "The first time of many, I hope." He smoothes a condom down the length of his cock. My mouth waters. I want to tell him to take off the rubber. I want to feel him, flesh against flesh. But I'm still too shy.

There's no foreplay. He knows I've been soaked from the moment I entered the room. His cock slides into my cunt like a key fitting a lock. I grip him with my inner muscles, pulling him deeper.

He's smaller than my husband, but thicker and much harder. I dismiss the pang of guilt that flickers through me. This, now – this is definitely cheating. The blow job, the spanking – one could make a case that they didn't count, but now another man is ramming his cock into my cunt and I have no excuse.

Except that I have no choice. I can't say no. It would kill me. I've never known anything like this fevered bliss. The stranger – Mark – hovers above me, driving his cock deeper with each stroke. I'm wholly open. It's what I've craved all my life and never known. I swear I never dreamed of this – did I? He makes me wonder, as he fucks me like the slut that I am. Perhaps I've always craved this kind of surrender, my dark desires hidden even from myself.

His cock breaks me apart and remakes me as someone else. I strain against the welcome bonds, grinding my pelvis against his. I'm crying from the pain and joy of it. My cunt shudders around him as I come, and come again. He won't let me look away.

I'm transparent to him. He knows who I am, what I want. There's no need for shame. As I gaze into his eyes, for a moment he's equally open. We connect. I sense his need and his triumph.

"Mine!" he growls as he swells and explodes in my pussy, still fluttering from my last orgasm. The heat bathing my tissues drags me over the edge one last time.

He releases my wrists and cradles me, kissing my eyelids, murmuring endearments. I'm in some sort of trance. I just lie there, enjoying his attentions, wondering idly when his demons will wake again.