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The zing of a zipper being lowered was next. “Will you let me here,tesoro? Let me do anything to you?” He curled his finger inside her ever so slightly.
She could utter her safe word, but did she want to?
With her Master, she always had choices. She stared at the back of Wayne’s head. That man thought he could take anything from her. But Richard didn’t have to take. She gave him whatever he desired. That was the life she wanted—where she got to choose.
But this …
She peered under her arm and caught one of his thick brows arching above his beautiful dark eye. She could stop it. But then they’d be back to square one, wouldn’t they?
“I will not ask twice.”
She blinked at him. “Anything. Always.” Then she faced the chair back and widened her legs a bit more, though that made her ass tighten around his intruding finger. She clenched a little around it.
Richard murmured, amused. “Careful, there. You want me going slow.” Still, he inserted a second finger, and she gasped. “I don’t suppose …”
Sarah strode forward, instantly enveloping Charlotte in her scent, an expensive French perfume. “Of course, Master R.”
The click of a bottle top opening. Lube. Of course, their community was prepared for anything at any time.
Cool gel touched her backside. Richard’s eager, slick fingers returned to massaging her tight hole.
He slipped in two, then three fingers, pressing and probing until she whimpered.
His whole body moved closer, the head of his cock nudging at her opening. He was going to be too big. Her knuckles whitened from their clutch on the chair seat. “I love you, Charlotte.” He pressed inside, and she clenched hard. “Now, breathe me in. Take me in.”
He gripped her hips and pressed forward, breaching the tight muscle. She muffled a scream and tried to still her legs, but they danced against the burn.
“Christ, so good,” he hissed, his shirt tails brushing against her bare ass.
He pulled back a little and then pressed in again. His fingers dug into her harder and tried to hold her still. But she couldn’t. It hurt so much.
She kept her eyes on the floor, mentally tracing the patterns on the tile. Breathe, she had to remember to breathe. He started slow, long strokes as his hands ran up and down her spine like he was petting a horse he was riding. Using her.
His touch was always possessive, loving even when inflicting pain.
The message was clear. She belonged to him, and he’d use her, love her, play with her any way he liked. He wouldn’t let anyone or anything touch her—even the man with his back to her. Now, sheknewit.
She wouldn’t want anything else ever again. She’d let the burn take her over. Burn her to ashes as he used her.
He hissed behind her, then gave her ass a hard spank. “Fuck, you’re beautiful. You should see your ass spread wide to take me.” She was just so full.
He pulled out and then went back in again. That time, her body seemed to get it. It still hurt but not as much. She felt his hair, his root, his entire possession at that moment, and a trickle of juice ran down her inner thigh.
The man raised so many things in her, time and time again. Taboo. Forbidden. Filthy. All words that danced in her mind at what they were doing. God, she wanted it. With her Master, she wanted everything.
Her forearms fell to the seat of the chair, and she began to push back to greet his thrusts. Her breath was now freely blowing out of her lungs in puffs. She arched her back more and lifted her chin high. She’d grown half mad with lust, half unbalanced with discomfort.
Her Master bent down, nipping at her shoulder. “That’s a good girl. Love what I’m doing to you.”
He didn’t have to direct her around that. She did, even though she might be split in two, her hips bruised with fingerprints from his tight grip.
He picked up the pace until he was truly fucking her. His balls slapped against her ass, and her clit throbbed anew.
The pleasure-pain combination blanked her mind. Memories, feelings … all got lost in the maelstrom. Only one thing, like a mantra, kept beating inside her:His. His. His.
Her legs trembled. She was going to fall, pitch over the chair. But the drumbeat grew louder and louder until she was chanting aloud. “His. His.”
A slap on her ass had her yelp. It jostled his cock inside her, a knife of pain arrowing through her center. “Whose?” He thrust hard until she had to catch herself before her head slammed into the chair.
