AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I—I don’t think my ass could take you, Master.” Her eyes were wide. “You’re . . . big.”
“You’d let me try.”
Everly blushed brightly. “I would.”
Motherfucker. A girl should not be able to make him so hot with such a short sentence.
“Well, if it’s been that long since you were fucked there, we should probably prep you first.”
Arousal, interest, horror, interest—all crossed her face in quick succession.
“Prep me?” she squeaked.
“Do you like buttplugs?”
“I, uh, I don’t like them, no.”
“But you’ll let me use them on you if you don’t want me to hurt your ass later?” He raised a brow.
Her gaze lowered, but she nodded. “Now?”
“My, aren’t you eager? I was thinking we could wait awhile, but if you’re that hot to have me in your ass, we could start tonight.” He chuckled, enjoying the way she hid her face in her hands. “Well?”
“If it pleases you, Master,” she mumbled into her palms.
He went to the sound system and found a melodic metal album that had hints of Middle Eastern musical influence, and set it to play.
“Up.” He returned to her and pulled her to her feet. “Dance for me.”
Her frown of distress was adorable. “What? No! I don’t know how.”
When he’d placed her where he wanted her, he left her there and sat back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head. “Everyone can dance. Move for me like you’re my slave girl.”
“A slave girl trying to get her Sultan’s attention?”
“Exactly.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
“I need to remind you that I’m in charge somehow.” He let his gaze slide over her, then clapped his hands. “Dance. Now.”
Everly shook her hair back, the arch of her neck and curve of her clavicle making him crazy. She huffed in exasperation. Her eyes closed, probably to help her forget she was being watched. The subtle movements, the shy sway of her hips, grew bolder when he didn’t interrupt. The cadence changed as one song shifted almost seamlessly to the next, and the beat got heavier and more sexual. Now the bells were ringing in time with her movement, the anklet keeping time with the movement of her feet.
God, she was beautiful.
She danced as though she were alone, and she’d forgotten he was there. Or maybe she’d taken a class? He watched, rapt, forgetting this was a game between them.
She was his slave, dancing for his pleasure. The anklet was his mark of ownership, and she wore it, proud to be his. He could do anything to her—hurt her, fuck her, love her—and her dance was her silent way of begging him for any and all of it. The possessive tension in him grew until he could hardly bear it.
This was his woman. If anyone tried to take her, he’d fight for her. He’d win her back. Maybe it was crazy, and too soon, but it was her fault for making him crazy.
Silently, he got up and moved closer, until he was near enough to touch, but for a moment he only enjoyed the scent of her, and her radiant warmth. Unable to resist for long, he put his hand on her waist.
She gave a start, gasped, and her eyes flew open. After a slight hesitation, she adjusted her movements to accommodate him as he started to dance with her. He pulled her close and kissed her. He nudged his thigh between her legs, and she pressed against him, her pussy hot. She reached between them and wrapped her small fingers along the hard outline of his cock, teasing him, kissing his jaw.
Fuck, she made him crazy.
He grabbed Everly’s arm and dragged her, surprised, over to the wall next to the window. He shoved her back against it. Her breath caught, and she whimpered, bowing her head.
