“Good girl.” She pressed the tip of her strap against my entrance, and I gasped, the sound breaking off into a shaky moan as she pushed inside me. She went slowly, gently at first, filling me, stretching me around her, and I felt my heart beating faster in anticipation as she pulled back out slowly, and then a little faster this time, pushed back into me. I rocked my hips against her as she picked up speed, picked up intensity, pulling back and thrusting into me, and again, and again, her hips moving harder each time.
I felt her so solidly inside me, stretching me as she slid deeper into me and back out, and it turned hard, passionate, as she moved her hands down to grip my hips instead, holding me in place as she fucked me relentlessly. I moved with her, crying out her name, arching my head back, and she didn’t slow down now—she’d finished teasing me, and now she was fucking me, having her way with me, taking what she wanted. It was hers.Iwas hers.
I didn’t last long. I shattered, my whole body blossoming in pure liquid heat that spread through me, lighting up every synapse, and I moaned loudly as I came on her strap, feeling like I lifted up off the bed from how much I arched into it. I heard myself crying out her name, my hands gripping at her, thrusting, rocking, grinding on her, as I melted down at the edges, so fucking perfect I couldn’t—
She crashed down with me, kissing me hard, passionately, deeply. And she didn’t give me much time to recover, not that I wanted any—lust thick in her eyes, she wrenched the harness down off of her and threw it aside together with her underwear, and she took my hand and shoved it between her legs, holding me in place and grinding on my fingers. I moved to meet her, to pleasure her, to serve her, and she took it harder until she’d thrust down on my fingers, taking them inside her, and added her own hand to play with her clit, grinding on me until, with a cry that crackled in her throat, she came undone on me, sitting back sweaty and exhausted and satisfied on the bed.
“God, that’s better,” she sighed, collapsing into herself, legs splayed out on the bed opposite me, leaning against one of the posts at the bottom. “I neededsobadly to fuck you.”
“Um…” I felt myself blushing hard. What would be the use in fighting it now? “Well, you don’t need to wait in the future. You can take me anytime you want.”
She smiled dangerously. “Be careful making offers like that. I’ll end up fucking you in a studio or something.”
“I maintain that you’re not very good at making threats.”
She bit her lip, a hazy smile on her face. “I bet you’d look cute like that. In the back room of a studio with your pants pulled down, bent over a table begging me to fuck you.”
“I mean, the studios I use are soundproofed, so…”
She laughed. “That’s a very good point. I don’t know why I haven’t been taking advantage of that before.” She stretched out exhaustedly. “So, inspiring?”
“Hm?”
“You kept telling me I’m your muse, right? So? Any creative inspirations coming to you from me fucking you into my bed?”
“Oh.” I hunched my shoulders, laughing nervously. “You think I should write a song about how well you fuck me?”
“I’d like to hear it.” She trailed her fingers over my leg. “Plus, I’m happy to help renew your inspiration.”
“You know, I.” I paused. “I bet actually I could. I could think of some good lines about… something like… I mean, the only problem is that it sounds like then you’ll lose your incentive to fuck me.”
She grinned. “What, like you can only write one song?”
I laughed. “I’m going to manage and write for a whole panel of artists to sing about how good you are in bed. That’s a kind of exhibitionism I didn’t even know existed.”
“Well, you can write about different aspects of it. If all of them were about getting tied up in ribbons like the good, pretty girl you are, it might start to get a little too specific.”
“Ribbons…” I chewed my cheek. “I bet actually that would work well for a song. Metaphor, you know? For gifts, for connections and being tied together, and for…”
“For being very pretty while you’re all tied up in bed for me.”
“Is that weird to write a song about?”
She laughed, shifting closer and kissing the side of my mouth. “You should do it,” she said, her hand possessively on my waist. “And the ones who know will know what a good girl you are for me.”
To say I didn’t recognize where my life had gone was an understatement. But I wasn’t complaining, mind. “I… might, then,” I said nervously. “Um. Not for Stephen Shale, though.”
“I mean, I’m willing to bet he’s a bottom.”
“Okay, yeah, definitely. But we’re still not doing that.”
She laughed, kissing me again, slower and sweeter this time. “I can’t wait to hear all the songs that exist because of you,” she said. “Now, should we clean up, or… are you not quite satisfied yet?”
Well, I was until she’d just said that. “Um…”
She smiled. She’d gotten the message. Thank god. I’d die of embarrassment if I had to spell it out.
Chapter 27
