He says it as if it’s something I’m supposed to be grateful for. And in a way, I suppose I am.
I settle into the submissive pose at his feet, my thighs parted.
Funny how this no longer seems as lewd as it had only ten minutes ago.
“When I gave you permission to kneel, you wanted to thank me.”
Blinking furiously, I tip my chin back to look at him.
“Your instinct was correct.”
“It…” I shake my head.
“You should express your gratitude for every bit of comfort your Dominant allows you. For example, you could have been left in that position until your body became exhausted.” His eyes darken. “Because I’m telling you that I wouldn’t have tired of looking at your cunt and your pretty little asshole. And I would have been thinking about fucking your pussy as I simultaneously slid a finger or two up that tight channel.”
Expectantly he waits.
Linking my hands even tighter, I give him what he wants. “Thank you.”
For long moments, I think he’ll say something. Maybe smile, anything to let me know he’s pleased with me. But he remains silent, even as I shift uncomfortably.
Then suddenly, in the crackling silence, I know.
Even though my mouth seems to be stuffed with cotton, I add, “Sir.”
“Fuck. Yes.”
In front of me, his cock seems to press even harder against the fabric of his pants.
“That’s definitely it.”
His reaction is everything. And joy flows through me.
“Goddamn it, Allie. I have to have you.”
He’s the Dominant, yet in this moment, I feel as if I have the power. This exchange we have is mind-blowing, and I’m afraid I could grow addicted to it.
He reaches for his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the scars that map his strength.
“Finish undressing me,” he says. “From your knees.”
No longer as uncertain as I would have been even a few days ago, I reach for the waistband of his sweatpants.
Since he’s already hard, I have to be careful with his aroused cock.
Moments later, he’s free, heavy and scorching hot, his thick length bobbing mere millimeters away from my lips.
Heaven help me. A strange part of me aches to suck him into my mouth. Maybe because I’m on my knees?
Since he doesn’t say anything, I give in and curl my hand around its girth, stroking slowly, marveling at its heat, its weight.
He groans, and I stroke harder, guided by his gruff “Tighter, sweetheart.” His cock pulses, a bead of precum glistening, and the sense of power I had moments ago returns, thrilling me.
“That’s enough.” He captures my wrist.
“But—”
“You’d do well not to argue, unless you want your list of transgressions to grow longer?”
