Page 10 of Taking His Diva

The head of his cock nudges my opening, and then he’s thrusting deep inside me, slapping my ass at the same time. I want to cry, it feels so good, right down to my soul. He must have just pushed his jeans down a little bit, just enough to get his dick out and into me, because I can still feel the rough denim against the backs of my thighs.

“You need someone to put you in your place, don’t you?”

I shake my head, because fuck that.

“Yeah, you do” He pulls his length slowly out, the thickness of his cock brushing every sensitive place inside me on his retreat.“Just in this one place. You need someone who takes control. Sees through the bullshit and gives you what you want. What you deserve. Everywhere else, you take the control you need. But here, with me between your thighs, you give me everything, and I’ll slap this fantastic little ass until you give it to me.”

He does it again. Brings that big bear paw of a hand up and lands it in a slap on my other ass cheek. Flesh hitting flesh echoes through the cavernous space. My pussy clutches onto his thick invasion. My clit throbs and I grind down against the table, trying to give it more attention.

Scott grips my hips just as the head of his cock threatens to fall from my opening and thrusts full force back in. “How many thrusts was that? Two?”

I don’t answer. A smile threatens to break out over my face, and I bite my lip to prevent it. Who smiles during sex? It’s weird, right? But this is fun. Hot and erotic and more gratifying than anything I’ve experienced, but also fun. I want to grin at the awesomeness that is our banter and the way our bodies meet.

Faster now, he pulls out to the tip again before plunging back inside to the root. My hips seem to tilt up all on their own, giving him better access, trying to meet each thrust. A gasp makes me lose the grip my teeth hold on my lip, and the grin I’m trying to hold back breaks free, along with more moans. I almost laugh when I realize all those times I faked it with other men were poor after-school special acting compared to the real deal. I have a feeling I’ll never be able to fake it again.

“That was three. Still going.” Scott’s hands glide up my back, down my arms. He laces his fingers with mine and an odd zing of affection pings through my chest.

Affection isn’t something I’m used to. None of my past lovers gave it. My father certainly never did. Not the nannies and tutors paid to care for me. Even with Marci, the person I considered my best friend, things rarely went below the surface with us. Scotthas shown me more care and tenderness than I’ve felt in my life. Even while he’s banging me from behind on the dining room table.

Again, that zing ricochet’s through me as he squeezes my hands, I think in reassurance, but I’m not sure.

He pulls my arms up over my head and pins my hands to the table. Every inch of his body is plastered to mine, holding me tight against the surface. I can’t move at all. But I’m not frightened, just the opposite. I’m excited, thrilled to see what comes next.

“You haven’t been paying attention since moving in.”

The comment confuses me, but Scott doesn’t leave me hanging for long.

“If you had been, you’d know I have stamina for days. I’ve been doing manual labor from sun up to sun down since the moment you stepped foot in my apartment that second day. Distracting myself from wanting to pin you down and fuck you every second of that time. Two pumps? Oh, beauty, you have no idea what I have in store for you.” His words are a promise and a warning. I’ve pushed and pestered this man to the edge of his patience. Now I get to see the result of all that brattiness. And it is everything I’ve ever wanted.

Holding me captive against the hardwood, Scott unleashes days of lust and frustration. Growling into the crook of my neck. Biting my shoulder. Telling me what a beautiful brat I am and how he’s going to fuck me into submission. A part of my brain rebels against the filthy, domineering words. Another part aches to hear more.

Scott’s hips become perpetual motion. Thrusting up, deep into my core, pulling out until he almost falls free before surging forward again. His pace grows faster, more urgent, racing toward a place I’m almost afraid to go. My fingers grip his, squeezing, silently begging for him to ease up. But he doesn’t.He goes harder. Faster. Exactly what I need to breach the thin barrier between amazing andholy fucking shitmind-blowing.

I scream and thrash, trying to pull my arms into my sides, but he holds them still. I arch my back, press my bare chest into the now heated wood, and my ass into his belly, giving him more room to go deeper.Oh God, deeper.Hot tears slip from the corners of my eyes and trail down my nose to pool on the table below me. I squeeze them closed and will the waterworks to stop. Hope he doesn’t see. The protective shell I wear day in and out is cracking, and he’s not giving me even a moment to repair the holes. The pure, raw pleasure is ripping long-buried emotions free.

As my orgasm begins to weaken, I wait for the final thrust. The surge of heat from his cum exploding inside me. But I’m left waiting.

The room spins, I’m left empty for only a moment before I’m on my back and Scott is pushing back inside my swollen walls. In a blur of motion, Scott wraps his arms around my back and picks me up. I only have a split second to wrap my legs around his waist before he bounces me up and down on his cock standing in the middle of the room. Gravity pulls me down further and further until I swear he’s going to rip me in half. My mouth gapes open as another orgasm sweeps through my body. This one is fast but no less intense. The very second I start the descent from that round of pleasure, Scott falls to his knees and lays me out on the floor.

“Rich girl like you, I bet no man has ever dared to fuck you on a dirty floor. Only satin sheets for your ass.” I whimper and nod. He’s right. Every bit of sex I’ve had has been polite and boring. Who knew I needed to be fucked rough and raw on the floor? Apparently, Scott did.

With my legs thrown over his shoulders and my body almost bent in half, Scott leverages two more orgasms from my limpbody. There is no more protesting. No more insults. I don’t have the strength left to keep up the act. He’s done what he said he would do. Fucked me into submission. And I love it. Finally, there on the floor, Scott gives me what I’d been waiting for. With a brutal thrust, his head flies back and jet after jet of hot cum fills me, spilling from between our bodies.

He collapses on top of me, panting. “Birth control?”

I nod. “Clean?”

He nods.

I lose track of the positions and the locations of every orgasm. It’s just a pleasure parade around his apartment, no surface is safe from our fuck-fest. Between rounds, I become aware that I must look like shit. Sweat covers my skin, my hair has to be a rat’s nest, and I know my makeup isn’t where it should be. But Scott doesn’t give a shit. He tells me I’m beautiful. He worships my body and touches me in a way that inches suspiciously close to cherishing.

When I start to give him crap again, or acting the brat again, he spanks me until I’m a puddle of goo in his hands. Sometimes, I act up just to feel the sting of his skin against mine.

God only knows how many hours later I find myself in his bed, wrapped in his arms, sleep swiftly bearing down on my exhausted form. It’s dark outside now, we had a dinner of BLTs and shitty beer naked in bed. I’m satisfied in more ways than ever before in my life. And I’m scared out of my mind. “This doesn’t mean anything. Just because we’re good in bed, doesn’t mean we’re good anywhere else.”

Scott kisses my shoulder. “Shut up and go to sleep, my little brat. Your ass is going to need time to heal, so no antagonizing me for the rest of the night.”

Pulling my back in tight against his chest, Scott nuzzles his face into my neck and releases a deep breath.

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