Page 18 of Never Forget

Standing upright, I circle around to the side of the coffee table and push it out of the way, then sink to my knees in front of him. My legs part. My hands rest on the tops of my thighs. I don’t look down. That’s not what he wants from me. I give him the direct eye contact he wants, and wait, trying to slow my breathing to not betray just how rapidly my heart is beating.

I can’t give him everything he wants, but I can give him this one thing he needs.

What we both need.

“What do you want, pet?”

“What I want doesn’t matter, because while we’re in here, behind closed doors, I’m yours. Yours to command. Yours to control. Yours to use however you see fit. What matters is what you want.”

“I want to own you,” he says, the words so low I’m not sure they were meant for me to hear.

“So take me.”

Scott stares down at me contemplatively for several long, drawn out heartbeats before standing. He looms above me, removing his belt.

I’m expecting him to undo his pants, pull out his cock, and make me suck him, but he doesn’t. Once he removes his belt, he sits back down, setting it next to him on the chaise and assessing me. I’m wearing a pair of thin black athletic shorts and a ripped muscle tee that would look way better on him. I’m fit, but compared to him my arms might as well be noodles.

“Strip.”

With a quick nod, I stand in front of him and do as he says, dropping my clothes on the floor. I’m a pretty clean and organized person, but when we’re like this, I don’t do anything he doesn’t expressly tell me to do. And Scott couldn’t give fewer fucks about my clothes all over the floor, as long as they’re not on my body.

Once I’m bare before him, standing so close my jutting cock nearly touches his chin, he tells me to turn around and put my hands behind my back.

This is one of my favorite things because it reminds me of that first night. Of how afraid I was, but how much I wanted it all the same. The way he read me, knew just how to touch me and draw me out of my head.

Reading has always been my way to dissociate, but this? This is better than any fictional world. This is real. Tangible. It bites and smacks and soothes and draws me out of my mortal existence and lets me float there above my body until I’m slammed back into my consciousness by an earth-shattering orgasm.

After securing my hands behind my back with his belt, Scott takes my ass in both his big hands and kneads the flesh. He digs into the muscle and massages me, spreads my cheeks apart and pushes them back together, toying with me to his heart’s content. I stay completely still, forcing myself not to push back into his hands or beg for anything. Not yet.

“I think I want to play with this for a while. Why don’t you come lie over here and be a good little toy,” he suggests, guiding me to sit, then straddle the furniture facing away from him.

With my arms behind my back, Scott pushes at the center of my back until I’m face and chest down, ass spread because of the wide position of my legs. When I adjust my hips to get more comfortable, the slide of my cock and balls against the soft, velvety texture of the upholstery sends a shiver of pleasure down my spine.

“Do that again,” Scott says appreciatively. “Rub yourself on the furniture like that again. Hump it like a dog. I want to watch.”

My cheeks heat, but I do what he says, chasing any friction I can get on my sensitive dick. I wiggle and undulate my hips until I’m practically humping the cushioned seat exactly like a dog.

Scott’s hands grip my hips and slow their movement, guiding me into a slow roll that sends chills up and down my spine. Keeping his hands on my hips, he moves until he’s straddling the very end of the chaise so he’s directly behind me, just far enough back to get a good vantage point.

His mouth on me is unexpected, driving a surprised shout from me, but I quickly relax into the sensations rocking through me. The soft fabric dragging against my cock. His fingers digging into my hips. The warm, wet slide of his tongue up my crack and swirling around my hole.

I’m panting like the dog I am, whimpering and drooling like one too.

“I fucking love the sounds you make, pet. One of these days I’m going to collar and leash you then take you hard from behind like a bitch in heat. I’ll breed you over and over again, until you can’t take anymore.”

The moan that leaves me is animalistic.

“I should have known you’d like something like that. You love it when I treat you like nothing more than a toy. A body for me to play with.”

“No one,” I moan.

“That’s right, pet. No one and nothing but mine.”

“Yesss,” I hiss, jerking against the cushion when his fingers press against my hole. I push back against them, whining when he pulls them away.

He tsks at me and smacks his hand down on one cheek. It’s louder than it is painful, but it takes me by surprise and I yelp.

“You think after your little temper tantrum I’m just going to give you what you want? If you want to come, you’re going to have to be good for me.”