Priceless (Ruthless Doms 1)
Page 69
I bite my lip and shake my head, and he smiles a little broader this time, the smile almost reaching his eyes. Bracing himself on one elbow, he slides his hand down my body to my pussy, cupping my mound. I arch into him, needing more pressure, but keep my arms right where he put them.
“That’s right, little girl,” he says when I push myself against him. “Just like that. Do you want me to touch you here?”
I nod and whimper, but he still only cups me, his palm pressing against my throbbing body.
“Beg me.”
“Please, Nicolai. Please, sir,” I whisper, without a second thought. He commands and I surrender.
“Please what?”
“P-please touch me,” I whimper.
“Like this?” he asks, dragging his fingers through my folds. “Like that, my love?” I nearly cry with relief when he finally touches me.
“Yes,” I say on a dry sob. Slowly, he lowers his mouth to my nipple, holding my gaze with his, as he gently strokes between my legs. “Relax, Marissa,” he says. “Just relax.”
I close my eyes and sink into this moment while his tongue returns to my breast and his fingers work magic on me. I’m getting closer to losing control, but I know he commands this.
“I’m going to come,” I whisper.
“Wait.” he says.
I bite my lip with the effort of holding on, of not coming out of my skin and flying into orgasm.
He moves his hand from my pussy and comes back to my wrists, pushing them above my head and holding them there. “You’ll come with me,” he whispers in my ear. “Together. As one. But I want to take you from behind. Get on your knees, chest down.”
I scramble on all fours and tangle the sheets in my fist to anchor myself to them. I spread my legs in welcome, aching for release and his fullness inside me. He lines his cock up at my entrance and gently glides the head through my slickness once, twice, three times before he eases himself in me. With him behind me I feel fuller, tighter, and my body thrills at the intensity.
“Fuck,” he growls. “Jesus fuck. So wet. So fucking tight. God, Marissa.” He groans when he moves in me, building friction that borders on ecstasy, my body coming alive with every move. I welcome every thrust. He holds my hips, his large hands bruising the flesh with his brutal grip, before giving me a swift smack to my ass. It only makes me hotter, wetter, more needy. He’s never taken me like this, brutal and savage and unfettered. But he needs this, and so do I.
“Stay in that position,” he orders, pushing my hands to where he wants them. “Hold yourself while I take you.”
As I brace myself, he slams into me again. I fight to hold my position, and another hard spank reminds me what’s in store if I don’t. Again and again, he lifts and thrusts, pulling out just long enough to make me ache for him, then filling me again with his swollen cock.
“Nicolai,” I groan. “Oh, God, I love this.” I’m so full, so turned on, so ready to come, when he grabs my hair, tangles it in his fingers, and yanks my head back.
“Do you, baby? You love this,” he repeats. It’s so raw and primal as he slams into me, the ache quickly drowns in delicious pleasure. “Tell me when you’re going to come. Say sir. And don’t you dare come until I say.”
Another hard thrust sends me right to the edge. I hold on, wanting to obey him.
“Marissa,” he warns. “If you come without permission, I’ll take my belt to you.”
“That’s twice you’ve threatened that,” I say, emboldened by our positions like this. It scares me to think about being whipped by him, but I work myself to climax at the mere thought.
“I’ll remember you said that.”
Another searing spank has me squirming. I’m going to come.
“Sir,” I whisper. I’m on the edge, and I don’t want to disobey. “Sir!”
“Come,” he says in my ear, and it’s all the permission I need. I let myself go and soar into bliss while he comes, his hot seed lashing into me. I close my eyes and can’t breathe, so consumed with waves of ecstasy. I’m so close to him. United in pleasure. Joined as lovers.
“Fuck,” he says, still pumping into me. “Jesus fuck.”
I sink onto the bed, drunk with pleasure and exhausted. He falls beside me and pulls me onto his chest.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“And I love you.”
We lay together, sweat-slicked skin and tangled limbs and sheets all around us.
“I needed that,” he admits, while he tucks me beneath his chin on his chest. I hear the smile in his voice. “Am I still trembling?”
I wrap my arms around me. “No,” I admit.
He holds me in silence for a moment, then whispers, “Thank you.”