sound.’ His fingers dipped back inside me again, triggering my G-spot, making me squirm. It felt good before but now it was an entirely different kind of good. I was tighter because of the plug in my ass. More desperate because we were back here again. In his room, in the silence, doing dirty dirty things and relishing it.
I said nothing. Just made that sound again.
‘I’ll give you what you want but first … you’ll give me what I want. Sit back on your haunches, pet.’
I did as instructed and whimpered as I folded back onto my haunches and the motion ground the plug deeper inside me. He moved to kneel in front of me, stroking his hard cock with one hand. I eyed it hungrily. I’d forgotten how much I loved to suck his cock. That’s a lie. I’d never forgotten, I’d blocked it.
‘I like how your lips part for it before I’ve even told you what to do.’
I bit my lower lip as if that could hide my tell. Nothing could hide my tell, not from Michael. It was a simple fact of being his lover.
He arched his hips slightly and grinned. ‘You may.’
I bent my body towards him, making sure to keep my ass on my haunches. After all, that was his instruction and the pressure I felt was his goal.
I sucked just his cockhead into my mouth at first. Drawing on him. Then swirling my tongue along the silken tip. His hand worked into my hair, tugging just enough to bring tears to my eyes and more moisture pooling between my thighs. My whole body trembled, both from the effort my posture took and my desire to have him inside me. Mouth now, cunt later.
I played my tongue down one side of his cock, came up and sucked the tip, and then played my tongue down the other side. He liked that. I remembered it vividly. Sometimes I dreamed about it. All the while, I kept my hands clasped behind my back. He liked that too. Michael believed cocksucking should be just that – sucking. No hands. Not unless he said so.
I drove my mouth down farther, sucking so my cheeks hollowed out, running my tongue along the thick vein at the back of his cock. His hands were more insistent in my hair, moving my head to his liking as he drove his hips forward. I gagged and my eyes watered but I simply sucked air through my nose. The gagging thing was good for him. He liked it when I gagged. He liked the way my makeup smeared when my eyes watered. And when Michael liked – really liked – how things went, the pleasure he delivered was nearly buckling.
He used my mouth, thrusting deep, holding my head, and I found my Zen and went with it, noticing only that my pussy throbbed as if I could come simply by being a vessel for him to use. The pressure in my ass was gloriously unbearable.
When he pulled free of me, almost violently, I gasped. My mouth reached for him even though he’d backed up. His eyes had gone dark, his face set with grim determination. He took a deep breath and I knew he was steadying himself, letting the urge and the need to come from my oral ministrations pass before he took me.
‘Hands and knees,’ he said in a rough voice. It sent a shiver tiptoeing up my spine and made my scalp buzz with adrenalin.
I obeyed, getting onto my hands and knees, and watched him move around me like some big jungle cat. When he was behind me, he just stayed there, crowding me. I bit the tip of my tongue to stop myself begging. Begging wouldn’t get me anything but more waiting.
Then he ran his cock, slick from my spit, back and forth along my plumpest, most sensitive flesh. I managed not to make a sound but it took all my effort and I shook from it.
Michael laughed, running a possessive hand along my spine. I bucked beneath that simple touch. His big hands cupped my hips and he inched into me slowly. So slowly that I had to anticipate every second, every movement. I forced myself not to push back, not to rush him, or he’d pull free. Of that there was no doubt. It was all about the submission. All about waiting for what he wanted to give, not taking.
I hung my head and didn’t cry out when he pressed his fingers on the plug in my ass so his entry into me was exquisitely tight. The penetration shone bright in my mind’s eye like a neon sign. This had been the missing piece with Paul. This was what I’d craved but been deprived of.
Michael growled and the fine hairs on my nape rose and prickled. He’d lost his patience with his own game and I fought the urge to laugh. In surrendering it seems I’d won.
He glided into me fully with no effort. I was so fucking wet. So very ready that it was as if we were always meant to fit together this way. Locked together, moving together, no words, just movement and energy and nerve endings dancing.
His fingers dug into the meat of my hips as he thrust. His body slammed against mine so that I clutched the bedding in my fingers like I might fly away. His words dropped onto my naked back. They all sounded like nonsense because my mind was fully on my body and the delicious feel of him taking me. Pleasure swirled up from my centre, heat invaded my cheeks, and the residual heat on my bottom seemed to echo it. I managed to pick out just a few words: ‘gorgeous, tight, wet, remember, craved …’
He moved faster and I had no doubt that he was going to come. His breath always gave him away. Harsh and tense and deep like a locomotive.
‘I want you to come with me,’ he said, bowing his body over mine to say it near my ear. My skin tightened at the sensation and I nodded. I wanted to come immediately, give in, let go, but I waited because it was always so much fucking better when we came together.
One hand released my hip, dipped beneath me and found my clit, painting whorls around the rigid flesh. I gasped. He was trying to push me. He was trying to make me fail.
I chewed my lip and tried to hang on. A whimper escaped me and he growled again. That sound of struggle turned him on. I knew this because I knew him. How had I forgotten how well I knew him?
I whimpered again and he cursed, pinching my clit so that I saw stars and nearly came. I cried out but didn’t give into my body’s demand. He growled and said softly, ‘Fine. You win. Come with me …’ Then his fingers were tender on my clit again and his thrusts grew harder, rocking me forward, and his breath was a harsh thing against my neck.
‘Come,’ he said and then bellowed. I didn’t have to be told twice. Not with him in my cunt and that steel plug in my ass and my flesh still pounding with my heartbeat from the spanking. I locked my knees so I didn’t collapse as I came. A giant wave of light and pleasure rocked me as he continued to pound into me.
Colours flickered behind my eyelids and the spasms that gripped him only accented the fullness in my body. Full everywhere – cock and steel and light and warmth.
When he withdrew I felt his absence and it made me ache. I expected him to remove the plug but he didn’t. He kissed my left ass cheek and then my right. Then he traced gentle fingertips along the places he’d struck earlier. He tipped me to my side and winked at me.
‘Leave that in. I want you ready for me.’
I raised an eyebrow in silent question.
‘Oh, I know you pushed me. On purpose. And bad girls have bad things done to them. I’m going to have a go at that ass. But first, wine?’
I nodded. My mind tried to focus on wine when I was really imagining him taking my ass. I was breathless at the thought. Preoccupied.
‘A square of dark chocolate with it?’ he asked. He brushed my damp bangs out of my face. I nodded again,
