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“Yes.” She didn’t trust a condom alone, and no matter how infrequently she had sex, no way was she getting derailed from med school by an unplanned pregnancy.
“Those two times you talked about. They use a condom? You tell me otherwise, it goes to the top of my list.”
“No, they did.”
He put a warm kiss on the center of her back as he squeezed her buttocks, thumbs stroking her upper thighs. “I never have sex without one. Except now, with you. No barriers between us.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Please.”
He straightened and gripped her hair again, using his other hand to guide himself into her. As she’d seen from his erection, he was bigger than Bart, and more so than her other two partners. But he knew his size, and took his time. Even so, every millimeter seemed designed to test her physical limits while pushing her over the crumbling edge of that climax. If he touched her clit, she would lose the battle.
When he was fully seated, it was the most stretched she’d ever felt, and the most connected to a man during sex. He released her hair to drop down over her, pushing her down on her elbows as he covered her. He put his mouth on her neck, her shoulder, her upper arm. He nuzzled the side of her face with his jaw, heating her skin with his rasping breath. His pelvis pressed firmly against her ass, thighs aligned with hers.
He was staying so still, and yet the ripples inside her were so intense, she was making little moans, short cries. Then he circled her waist with one powerful arm, and started to thrust.
“Oh, God…”
“Let it build. Come for me only when you’re sure you can’t stop yourself.”
It did build. He was in charge of the fire, just as he’d said. It immersed her, blood, bone and muscle, involving all her senses. She screamed as it built beyond what she’d thought was possible. When it happened with a vibrator or one of those other lovers, it had always stopped when she thought the sensations were too much.
Brick wasn’t stopping, and yes, those sensations became too much. It was so intense. She was begging for mercy and more in the same breath, in the same cry. He denied her the first and gave her the second, pushing her to her physical limits, taking all he wanted from her.
Another important message. She’d called him Sir, but if she wanted to be his sub, he’d become her Master. He was letting her know what that would feel like.
What it did feel like. Even if she hadn’t made the decision yet, she couldn’t argue against it. She didn’t want to.
He put his hand on her clitoris, her labia, massaging, and she was lost. She went over as he climaxed with her, thrusting deep, his breath harsh and rasping against her hair. She shrieked, pushing her forehead against the brace of his arm next to her as her hips lifted to him, taking him deeper, feeling the power of his thrusts, wanting more, more, more.
She didn’t finish so much as she dropped from the sky, a bird who’d flown so high she’d lost oxygen and had to spiral back down to earth. But he kept his vise-like grip on her even as he sheltered her fragile frame with his large body.
“Oh God,” she whimpered it, her forehead on the carpet, eyes closed. This was when a man usually rolled off her, though all three of her bedmates had done the cuddling thing, because she didn’t tolerate unkind or inconsiderate partners.
When kind and considerate combined with the demanding and relentless qualities of a Dom, one she wanted so much, the experience hit a whole new level. From here forward, she couldn’t imagine doing without it.
He didn’t withdraw from her right away. He put more kisses on her shoulders. He lifted the weight of her hair from her neck, pushed it forward so it brushed the floor, giving him the access to put his mouth there. He’d realized how much she loved having her neck and shoulders caressed by a man’s skillful mouth. As he did it, he put his palm on her hair, holding her forehead to the carpet. He nuzzled, nipped. Bit, as his tongue traced her flesh inside the clamp of his mouth. She was making little moans once more, her sex spasming around his cock. If he kept this up, she might…
He put his hand under them and stroked over her clit again, flicking it roughly with his fingertips. Shock gripped her at the same time another small climax did, rolling up and grabbing her so unexpectedly, she clamped her hand over his braced forearm.
Multiple orgasms. Another first for her.
When that one ebbed, he eased up on her hair. “Thought you had another in you. There’s probably a couple more, but I’ll save that pleasure for another time.” He eased himself from her body, his cock still substantial enough for her to feel the withdrawal and shudder at the loss.
“Stay in this position. We’re not done.”
He trailed his fingers up her back to her buttocks, pushing in between to do a light tease of her sensitive rim. “You got any hard limits, Celeste Joy? Things you’re sure you don’t want to do?”
“I haven’t really considered…all the choices.” There hadn’t been a lot of time to get creative, even with Bart. She definitely hadn’t explored with him what Brick was offering.
“The party I take you to tonight should help with that. In the meantime, I’m going to give you a sample of one of your fantasies. I’ll count it as a punishment, to strike one off the list.”
“Are you taking it chronologically? Starting with the ice cream offense?”
She squirmed as he gave her a pinch, but he wouldn’t let her up, keeping his other hand on her back so she remained on her elbows, her legs spread and backside up.
“You and that mouth. No. I already know the punishment for that one. I’ll put the coldest ice cream I can find on your needy little clit.” His fingers stroked over it, making her quiver. “I’ll let you writhe a while before I start sucking it off. I won’t let you come for a good, long time. I like the idea of watching you completely come apart from orgasm denial.”
“Oh,” she said faintly. “So…what punishment…”
