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It wasn’t long before the kiss became something wilder, the pent-up longing and pain of their weeklong separation fueling their urgency. She lost herself in the passion of the kiss as he pulled her closer, gathering her against him. His body was solid and strong as he held her. She could feel the rise of his erection between them, and her body answered in kind, softening and yielding to his touch.
When they finally parted, it was only to reach for each other’s clothing. There was an urgency to their movements, punctuated with gasps and shed garments as they stumbled together toward her bedroom.
She caught her breath as he stood naked before her, as beautiful as a Greek god in the lamplight. His gray-green eyes, which she’d once thought of as cool as a winter sea, were hooded with lust and fiery with passion.
Her nipples throbbed, her cunt aching to be filled. She threw herself onto the bed, legs parting of their own accord as she reached for him. But, instead of falling atop her and entering her in one fluid, perfect motion as she desperately desired, he lay down next to her.
As if she weighed nothing, he pulled her up and onto him so she was straddling his thighs. Her cunt was so wet the moisture slicked her labia. His gorgeous cock bobbed between them like an invitation. He held her still, his strong hands on her hips.
“Please,” she begged breathlessly. “Please fuck me, Master Damon. I need to feel you inside me. Please.”
Releasing his grip, he reached for her nipples, capturing each one between thumb and forefinger. His eyes boring into hers, he squeezed and twisted the distended nubbins until she moaned with both pleasure and pain.
He squeezed harder, making her wince as tears filled her eyes.
“Thank you, Sir,” she gasped. Oh, how she had longed for his hard, perfect touch.
Finally releasing her, he again gripped her hips, this time lifting her up and over him. As he eased her down onto his shaft, she moaned, lust burning her skin and melting her insides.
She threw her head back, eyes closing as she moved against him. She could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath her hands, which rested on his strong chest as she rocked on top of him. Her cunt spasmed with aching pleasure around his hard, thick shaft. Her clit throbbed between them, pulsing against his pubic bone.
Yes, yes, yes, yes. Jesus, she was going to come…
But before she could give herself over completely, Master Damon’s hands were again on her hips, slowing her movements and breaking her rhythm. Flustered, she brought her head forward, her eyes opening in confusion, her body throbbing with need.
“Please,” she panted, her fingers curling in his luxuriant chest hair. She found herself unable to articulate beyond that single word. “Please.”
“Shh,” he breathed. “Slow down, my sweet slut. I want to savor you.”
Ellen forced herself to calm down, to slow down as he had commanded. As she stared into his beautiful eyes, a sense of the surreal washed over her. Was this really happening? Or was it just a lucid dream brought about by desperate longing?
His cock pulsed inside her cunt, sending a spasm of pleasure through her loins. This was real, all right, and way better than any dream could possibly be. In that moment, she surrendered herself fully to him. She was his to command, to use, to possess as he pleased.
As if somehow sensing the mental shift in her from pure lust-crazed maniac to something more closely resembling a trained slave girl, he smiled a slow, sensual smile, his eyelids hooding with power.
“That’s right,” he crooned. “I own you. Don’t forget that.”
“No,” she breathed, entranced. “No, Sir. I won’t forget.”
He lifted her hands from his chest. His gaze lingering on hers, he kissed each palm in turn. The brush of his lips on her skin was deeply sensual, warming her from the inside out.
Then, with slow deliberation, he began to move inside her. It wasn’t long before the pace quickened, their bodies locked together. The friction was perfect against her clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear.
Both breathless now, sweat sheening their skin, they kept their eyes on one another’s faces, the intimacy between them something altogether new and impossibly precious.
Finally, nearly incoherent with need, Ellen cried out, “Please, Sir. May I come?”
“You may.”
He arched up against her as she climaxed, spurting his sweet, hot seed inside her. As waves of pleasure radiated out from her core, Ellen felt as if Master Damon was drawing music from her bones and she lost herself in its song.
She fell against him as he rolled to his side, taking her with him. His strong arms entwined around her as the rapid tattoos of their hearts slowed their beat. Ellen’s eyelids, suddenly heavy, slowly closed. The last thing she heard as sleep claimed her was her name on his lips.
“Ellen, my love.”
Rapid, panicked breathing slipped into her dreams like a call for help in the dark. Startled, she came fully awake, her eyes flying open in alarm. The bedside lamp was still on. Damon lay beside her, the sheets tangled around him, his face a rictus of pain. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
“Damon,” she cried, shaking his shoulder. “Damon, wake up. Please, wake up.”
