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Anya cried out and buried her head in the crook of his neck. Daniel wrapped his arms around her and held her close. For a torturous minute he did nothing but let her whimper and struggle and cry. Being so deep inside her without moving nearly killed him. But her pain muted his desire and allowed him to keep whispering words of comfort and love to her.
He slipped a hand between their bodies and rubbed her clitoris. At first she flinched from obvious pain. But he lightened his touch, caressed her even more gently, and when she whimpered again, he could tell it was from pleasure.
“Try moving,” he said as he increased the pressure on her.
Anya obediently began careful undulations of her hips. Daniel had to swallow a groan of pleasure. He didn’t want her hurting herself by trying to please him.
“Better?” he asked when the movements grew wider and her body seemed to relax.
“It feels…” she began and stopped. “It feels like you belong inside me.”
Daniel’s heart tightened in his chest. “That’s because I do.”
His fingers moved faster, making tight circles to match the circles of her swaying hips. Turning his head, he kissed the inside of her arm that encircled him and nibbled on the soft flesh at the inside of her elbows. He couldn’t resist one hard bite that would leave a bruise on her forearm. Someday soon he’d leave her body covered with welts and bruises.
Anya gasped and flinched and Daniel felt her inner muscles flutter around him. He kept circling her clitoris, kept holding back his own needs as Anya kept moving her hips on him, taking him deeper and deeper with every push against him.
“You have my permission to come whenever you can,” Daniel said, wanting to start training her to only orgasm when he allowed it. He’d wait a few weeks before bringing the rougher toys out. But discipline began tonight.
Daniel’s left hand ran all over her body while his right hand continued to tease her. When his hand brushed her neck Anya took a hard breath. He wrapped his fingers around her throat and held her neck lightly. It seemed to be exactly what she needed. Anya pulled hard against the handcuffs as she pumped her hips into him. What little restraint Daniel had left disappeared as she released a loud throaty cry. Both hands grabbed her soft bottom with bruising force as he pushed up hard and came inside her.
Together they breathed through the climax, half-panting, half-laughing at their loss of control.
Daniel kissed Anya’s lips, her forehead, her cheek, her neck. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Did you enjoy that?”
She nodded. “Again?”
Daniel brushed the hair off her forehead. “I’m thirty-eight. Give me minute. Or ten. I hope that was worth all two point five million dollars you paid for it.”
Anya blushed and giggled as she rested her chin on his shoulder. “Ask me again in ten minutes.”
With a fierce slap, Daniel brought his hand down hard on Anya’s bottom. “Respect your elders, young lady.”
She yelped in pain before dissolving into laughter. “It was worth every cent of your money, sir.”
“Better answer.”
Daniel ran his hands up and down her back as Anya nestled into him, her arms still cuffed to the headboard. Maybe he’d leave her there for a little while longer.
“I want you in my collar. I want to own you,” he said into her hair. “I want to love you, too.”
“Yes, I want that. Please.”
He felt something on his shoulder, something wet. Tears. Anya’s tears. “Good.”
“But under one condition,” she said, pulling back to face him.
Daniel gripped her chin and gave her a stern look. “And what is that condition?”
Anya returned the stern stare with one of her one, one fierce enough to rival even The Ouch.
“We burn the jeans.”
12
Eleanor mounted the back stairs as she headed toward the guest bedroom where she’d sleep tonight. Kingsley would probably be joining them as Daniel and Anya had apparently commandeered the master suite for their own use. Good for them. Kingsley deserved getting kicked out on his ass sometimes. She and Kingsley fought like siblings outside the bedroom, which led to some rather intense encounters inside it. Especially intense since a certain someone took great pleasure in sharing her with his best friend.
Not that she minded. Not one bit.
