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“That’s right, angel,” Foster said, his voice going a little hoarse as he begin to rock into me faster. “Show me how bad you want me to fuck that pretty mouth of yours. You have no idea how hard it’s been not to take you like this at The Ranch this afternoon—to show everyone what a sexy little sub I have, to stake my claim of you in public.”
I moaned around his cock, the hot images and his rough tone nearly pushing me over the cliff. My nails dug into his thighs as I held on to the last threads of my self-control.
“Ah, you like that idea,” he said, his grip on my hair tightening. “My sweet, innocent girl, I can’t wait to uncover all those secret sides of you.”
I whimpered, the coil of pressure building in me too much to hold back. I lifted my eyes to his, pleading.
His gaze branded me with its intensity. “Not yet, Cela. I’m not fucking done with you.”
I breathed deeply through my nose, fighting the need, and focused on him. I didn’t want to come before him. I didn’t want to leave him unsatisfied. I needed to feel him lose his own control. That alone helped me push back the oncoming tide. I pulled away for a moment and dipped lower, gliding my tongue along his sac and taking one of the globes in my mouth to suck gently.
“Fuck . . .” Foster’s groan rattled through him, and he pressed the back of my head against the wall, securing me in place. “Open.”
I did and he was back pushing between my lips with a ferocity that had my will obliterating. I couldn’t move my head. All I could do was take him and work my tongue around him as he ruthlessly ravaged my mouth. Everything began to blur, my body revving. Then his cock jerked against my tongue and lovely, hot fluid hit the back of my throat, Foster’s loud groan sending off trails of sparkling desire inside me.
And that was the final switch. My body clenched hard around the vibrator and I tilted my hips forward, riding the soft, humming nub pressed against my clit until everything burst open inside me. A muffled cry ripped past my throat as Foster continued to pump inside me.
I bucked against the force of my own orgasm, the power rocking me, and held on to him like he was the life raft keeping me from drowning. He pulled out of my mouth and grabbed my wrists, then slid to his knees in front of me. I pitched forward automatically and pressed my face into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my convulsing body, holding on to me.
“I can’t—please, take it out,” I panted, the intensity of sensation getting past the sanity point, but he held on tight, not allowing me to remove the vibrator.
“Shh, angel. You can. Come for me, again. You’re not done.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, water leaking from the corners. “Foster, please.”
But even as the begging word passed my lips, my body charged up another hill, and this time the orgasm was so intense, so breath stealing, that only silence emerged when I opened my mouth to cry out. I swayed in his arms as he whispered sexy, coaxing things against my ear.
Finally, when every ounce of strength seemed to exit my system, Foster gently slid the toy from me. Not even caring where I was, I moved my legs from under me and lay down on the floor, my head against his thigh and my body curled up on the rug in the fetal position. My blouse clung to my sweat-slicked skin. I was done. Not sleeping for much of last night, all the emotional upheaval of the previous day, and two orgasms had pushed me past any sense of decency.
Foster combed my hair with his fingers, caressing my scalp with long, luxurious strokes. A soft sigh escaped me. Somehow, lying there on the floor half-naked, my knees rug burned, and my jaw aching from the rough use, I’d never felt more comfortable or cherished. I could’ve slept there and been happy about it.
Foster traced my eyebrow with his finger. “You want me to run you a bath, or do you want to worry about that after you get some rest?”
“Rest,” I murmured.
“Good choice.” He extricated himself from under me and then turned me to lift me into his arms.
I didn’t fight it. If he wanted to lift me, so be it. He carried me into my bedroom and laid me on my unmade bed. I reached for my blouse, but he gently pushed my hands away.
“Let me.” He unbuttoned my blouse and took off my bra, brushing soft fingers against my still-beaded nipples. Then, he guided me down to my pillows and pulled the sheet and blanket over me.
“Are you staying?” I asked sleepily.
He rubbed a thumb over my cheekbone. “No, angel. I can’t. But come Tuesday, we’ll be spending a lot of time together. Take the next few days to enjoy the solitude . . . and the freedom.”
“If this is what captivity feels like, I think I’m becoming a fan.”
He chuckled softly, a warm, masculine sound that made me want to crawl back into his lap. “We’ll see what you think when you’re not high on post-orgasm, subspace bliss.”
“Mmm,” I murmured, fighting to keep my lids open.
He kissed my forehead. “Get some rest, angel.”
Then he was gone.
And so was I.
TWENTY-FOUR
