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"Do you understand me?" he asks again.
"Yes, sir," I whisper.
"Good. From now on, all your orgasms are mine. Understand?"
The feminist in me wants to argue, wants to ask him who he thinks he is to tell me what to do. But the rest of me doesn't care about feminism right now. I nod.
"Yes, sir."
"Good." He hands me something in the dark and I take it, realizing right away what it is. A condom.
“Put it on my cock, Harlow,” he says. "Be quick about it."
I fumble in my attempt to open the foil packet. I want Linc inside me so badly I’m almost shaking. When I finally get the condom out of the wrapper, I reach down and grip his thick erection, loving the feel of him in my hand. Hot, hard, ready for me. I give his length a long, slow stroke and Linc sucks in his breath. But he doesn’t rush me. Instead, his gaze drops to his lap and he watches as I stroke him once more. That’s all the teasing I can stand, though. Much as I’d like to draw this out until we’re both a mess of need, I want him too badly for that. I quickly roll the condom down his length and look back up to his face.
“Good girl,” he says.
Then he lifts me up and lowers me down onto his hard cock. I’m so wet that he slides in with little resistance. I’m still a little sore from last night, but it’s a good kind of sore. The feeling of being filled and stretched by Linc’s cock is worth any soreness I may have tomorrow. My breath leaves me in a sigh of pleasure as I sink down, taking Linc fully.
"Now, ride me until I come," he says.
Immediately, I begin to move, riding him slowly.
"You feel so good," I whisper, rolling my hips on every downstroke.
His fingers dig into my hips, gripping me tightly—almost painfully. But I love it. I love his strength and his power and the control he’s using to let me take the lead. I pull him to me for a kiss without breaking my rhythm. Linc’s kiss is hard, his beard rough against my lips. I love it just as much as the tender kisses he gave me last night in my bed.
I keep going, riding him faster and harder until my thighs are burning. Linc slides one hand down between my legs and finds my clit with his thumb. My pace falters as I gasp at the new pleasure. Linc smiles wickedly, but he doesn’t stop. My legs are shaking with the effort to keep going. Little spasms of pleasure radiate out from my clit up to the rest of my body. I know it won’t be long before I fall apart in his lap.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” Linc says, as if he’s reading my mind.
I nod and my mouth opens on a silent gasp as I rock up and down on his dick.
Linc grins, his thumb moving faster on my clit.
“You want it, don’t you?”
I nod again, ready to beg if necessary.
“You need it. Don’t you?”
"Mm," I nod. My thighs are shaking now.
"Who do your orgasm belong to?" Linc asks.
"You," I pant.
"Who does this pussy belong to?" His fingers swirl faster over my clit, driving me closer to the edge as I ride him even faster.
"You."
"That's right," he says. "And who's going to let you come tonight?"
"Oh, God," I moan, balancing on the edge.
"Not God," Linc says, increasing the pressure on my clit. "Just me."
I moan again, my hips rocking faster against him. I'm beyond words at this point. I’m balanced on a knife’s edge of lust and need. The pleasure is so intense it’s almost too much. It keeps building past the point where it should have detonated by now. Linc releases my hip to squeeze my breast. He pinches my nipple through the layers of my clothes, and I cry out. That’s all it takes and I’m flying over the edge into oblivion.
