Freed (Club Sin 4)

Elliott, a man as powerful as he, caressing himself was a sight she couldn’t ignore. Wetness and warmth spread between her thighs, making her greedy for him. All thoughts vanished as her mind now zeroed in on his hand. Each stroke was her torture. She ached to touch him, taste him, and devour him.

When he circled the tip of his cock, he grunted, and the masculine sound cut right through her and freed her mind. An urge to consume herself with his pleasure overtook her. To make Elliott’s grunts even louder…yeah, she wanted that. As another groan passed through his sculpted lips, he slid his hand down his thick shaft to the base.

A harsh shiver cut through her.

His gaze held hers, so wise and educated, and the smallest of smiles turned up the corner of his mouth. “Ah, now, there is the look of a woman who wants to fuck me.”

She shifted on her knees, aching between her t

highs. “I do, sir.”

“Why?”

Her gaze drifted from his heavy cock to his molten eyes. “You’re gorgeous, Elliott.”

A low groan rumbled from his chest. “Tell me the real reason why you want to touch me now.” He slid his hand up his shaft and he moaned in that sexy way men did. “Then you can have me.”

She trembled as wildfire seeped into her veins. And the words spilled easily from her mouth with her passionate cravings. “I want you, sir—to feel you, to taste you, to please you.”

“I see that you do,” he growled. “Come to me.”

She moved to him as he straightened up onto his knees. Leaning down over him, he removed his hand and she replaced it with hers. She took him swiftly between her lips, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum, and her mouth stretched to take him against her tongue.

With each bob of her head and stroke of her hand, she sensed in the way he quivered that he had been pushed to extremes over the course of their time together. She understood, as he seemed to have a similar effect on her, too.

Knowing what he needed from her, which wasn’t a slow, sensual dance to draw out pleasure but for her to do as he had done for her, ease the edge, she moved fast. Up and down, her mouth dragged across his soaked penis with her saliva, and her hand followed behind.

Elliott’s fingers tangled into her hair, and he began shifting his hips in the same rhythm she set. His groans brushed across all of her senses, and his masculine, musky scent only made her sex clench for him.

She used both hands now, stroking faster and harder. Sensing his cock becoming rock hard in her mouth, and when his fingers tightened in her hair, she increased her speed. His deep moans filled the room around her, making her feel emotions she thought she had lost.

To please a man, a Dom, fed her submissive nature. To give back to another who took care of her brought a sense of warmth and purpose, urging her to increase her speed and jerk him more firmly.

Two strokes later, he was bucking and jerking against her mouth and she was swallowing every drop of his offering. The sounds from his release were the only noise she focused on. And the way his body quaked was all that mattered.

His pleasure fed hers.

Once his trembling ceased, she slid her tongue across the tip of his cock, cleaning him. He tucked a finger under her chin and his smile was contagious. “You have lips that could keep a man very happy.” Then he leaned down, kissing her mouth, unashamed.

He took her as if he had known her a lifetime and knew exactly how she liked to be kissed. When he finally broke away, he dragged a thumb across her lip. “Tell me, how is that sweet pussy feeling now?”

“Wet, sir,” she replied with a soft laugh.

“Good.” He chuckled before his smile vanished and hardness formed in his features. “That’s how your cunt will stay until you give me a truthful answer the first time.” He moved off the bed, gathering his pants before he looked to her with a firm expression that gave no room for argument. “Go and shower.”

She was tempted to take the power away and make it her decision to go shower when she wanted, not when he told her to—so that she kept the control, not him—but the achiness of her body reminded her not to push a Dom too far.

This time, she listened.

Chapter Seven

The sun beaming across Mary’s skin opened her eyes. Her stare connected with the finger that once held her wedding ring, which she had removed a year after Charles’s death. It became too difficult to explain when patients would ask about her husband. The decision had been gut-wrenching, but having to say her husband died was worse. Though the diamond necklace around her neck, declaring Charles’s claim on her soul, would never come off.

Feeling hardness against her, and a sense of comfort she hadn’t felt in some time, she turned onto her side. Elliott’s smile greeted her, and she smiled in return. They’d spent an entire weekend together, not anything she imagined would have happened when she accepted his invitation, and most of that time with him, he took care of her. It’d been years since anyone had taken care of her.

She’d always been taking care of everyone else.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked in his smooth voice.