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Slamming inside me again with a deep, long stroke, just as he assured, he lowers his mouth to mine. “You did, temptress,” he says against my mouth. “Every time you bent over, daring me to take you. Every time you walked past and lowered your head…you were tempting me to make you mine. Now, I’m going to give you everything you begged of me.”
I did—I admit it. I wanted him to pull me into some dark corner and make me forget the world. “I wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by you.” I squeeze my eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze—the one I know is hungry with questions.
My admission spurs him on, his thrusts coming deeper and harder. My hands curl into fists as I wriggle against his iron grasp, seeking to touch him. My legs wrap around his strong hips as he slams into me, over and over. “You will,” he breathes against me. “You’ll learn what it feels like to be owned by me. I’ll memorize every inch of you. From the inside out. Every part of you belongs to me.”
His intimate declaration ignites all the places he’s touching, and those he’s not. As if just saying it, he’s already lain claim to each of those needy parts. And as he rocks into me, driving me closer with each powerful plunge, I tighten around him, desperate to hold onto him as I careen toward climax.
He reads my body, increasing his speed and delivering deep thrusts that have my thighs clinging to him. His name slips out on a frantic pant, and his hips pound against me mercilessly, as if his name on my lips tears away his control.
I come hard. My body quivering and pulsing with electric aftershocks that heighten every time he drives deeper. He releases my wrists and my hands go to his back. I feel him tense under my touch, and the excitement of him filling me steals over, but he forcefully rips himself away.
I yelp as he grasps my ankles and hauls me toward the edge of the table. His breathing is labored, his chest rising with each strenuous intake of air. “Get the anal plug.”
Dazed, I blink at him, but soon his state registers in my lust-fogged brain and I scamper off the table. My legs barely support my weight as I hurry to the bedroom. Dread hasn’t even seeped in yet—until my hands are on the object.
I creep toward him, wariness lacing my limbs. The clear jewel plug clutched in my hand as I take in his changed demeanor. His muscles corded tight. His firm grip on his cock as he strokes himself, causing heat to bloom deep in my core; the sight so carnal and savage, I could wilt under his ravenous gaze.
His eyes devour my body as he stalks toward me then, his hand going to my hair and angling my face to his. His erection presses against my belly, throbbing and making my thighs ache. “Bend over the table,” he orders.
Only he doesn’t give me time to process and act on his demand. He’s guiding me there with a firm hold in my hair, my feet struggling to keep up. My stomach hits the edge, then his hand flattens against my back as he pushes my chest to the table.
His feet spread mine apart, opening me up to him, and my eyes seal shut.
“Don’t clench up. Relax,” he says, taking the object from my hand. The feel of his cock sliding against me encourages his desired effect. I’m still wet and aching from before, and the thought of him entering me again sends a splash of heat all the way to my toes.
He backs away just enough to insert a hand between us, circling his fingers around my slick lips. A quiver rocks my body, and my fingers dig at the hard slab. Then, with sure movements, he spreads the wetness over the tight entrance of my channel. I flinch out of reflex. But the more he massages, the more pressure that builds as he firmly applies his fingers, my walls contract and I’m worked open.
“I will have your ass tonight,” he says, his voice a gruff promise. “You will not remove this unless I give you permission. If you have to use the bathroom, I’ll remove it for you.” I cringe at the vision his words evoke. His voice never sounds abashed, his tone never betraying any of the revulsion I feel when he talks about such things; only absoluteness. “Before we leave this evening, you’ll use an enema to prepare yourself.”
Oh, god…it’s worse. This feeling of shame, hearing him talk about my facilities with such exactness is more than humiliati
ng.
“What’s your reply?”
He rests the teardrop shaped plug to my back entrance, and I gasp in a breath. “Yes, sir.” My response rushes out as he eases in the tip.
A heavy groan follows his lead as he slowly inserts the plug. My legs shake at the feel of pressure, my back taut with strain. His hand slips around my front and his fingers quickly find my clit. The stimulation causes my internal muscles to flex, and the teardrop is sucked in.
“Oh, my god,” I pant, my arms stiff as I brace against the table.
“You’re doing perfectly,” he encourages, expertly working my clit. He slips his hard cock beneath my aching center, his mouth near my ear. “Now. Scream all you want.” Then he’s pushing inside—one deep, hard thrust.
I cry out. My stomach tenses at the feel of him filling me and the heaviness penetrating my channel. My immediate reaction is to push back, clenching to alleviate the spiking pressure.
Anticipating my body’s response, he rests his pelvis against my ass, keeping the plug in place. He continues to knead my clit as his other hand cups my breast, adding stimulation and willing my body to accept the pain as pleasure.
I’m torn in too many directions—too many sensations assault me to focus on any one feeling. With each swirl over my clit, my body spasms, my walls tightening around him. His thick groans follow each contraction, encouraging his heavy thrusts. As if my body’s refusal to accept him only drives him deeper, his thrusts coming more forceful, more possessive.
His chest presses against my back, the friction of his taut muscles bearing down on me a pleasurable command over my body’s resistance. And as he pins me against the table, delivering a brutal fucking…a euphoric clarity grips me.
I crave this.
I accused him of being sick…of getting some twisted fix…but it’s me who desires to be forced into submission—me who called out to him. Pleading to be dominated.
I’m the one who willed this man into my life.
I’m going to give you everything you begged of me.
