I stare at the floor, my breath coming too hard. Even I can’t tell if it’s dread or anticipation for Zuri’s answer.
“That’s not what I want,” she finally whispers.
“Then let’s put it behind us.” Ursa squeezes my ass. “Alaric will begin the second round of apologies now.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “You have permission to come as many times as you like, darling.”
Ursa squeezes my ass again, her fingers digging into a sore spot there. “Not you, love. Balancing the scale is often uncomfortable.”
I don’t comment on the fact that she’s not interested in balancing the scales. The guilt I feel is entirely my own, and I have to make my peace with that. Life would be a whole lot easier if I could carve out that part of myself, if I could see things in the same stark contrast Ursa does. Every problem she faces falls into one of two categories. If it helps her and her territory, or if it doesn’t. There was no good or bad or room for regret.
Cool lube hits my ass and then Ursa starts working the strap-on into me in slow, teasing strokes. We’ve played with a variety of toys before, but the tentacle never stops feeling strange. Curved and textured and, fuck, okay, yeah, it feels good.
“Are you forgetting your task, lover? Zuri’s clit looks neglected.”
I surge forward and lick Zuri’s clit. She whimpers, and Ursa sinks another inch deeper into my ass, which only drives me on. I wish I could say I tease orgasm after orgasm out of Zuri, coaxing her into considering my apology. An artful, intentional seduction.
It’s not the truth.
I lick and suck and go after her pussy like a wild thing. With every inch Ursa sinks into me, filling me obscenely, another lock on my control snaps. Until there’s nothing left. I break down to my base parts, to pure need.
Zuri cries out above me as she comes, but I’m not stopping. I’m not capable of stopping. It feels like frenzy. It feels like ascendance. It’s almost enough to ignore my own body’s desperate need. My cock is so hard, it’s painful, and every slow thrust of Ursa’s hips has her cock rubbing against parts of me that have me in danger of exploding. I press my forehead to Zuri’s stomach, panting. “Mistress, I’m close.”
“Too bad. Hold.” Her fingertips press hard to my back, tracing my constellation of bruises. Little pinpricks of pain that light me up just as much as the way she fills me does. “Make her come again, lover. She’s so pretty when ecstasy overtakes her.”
Another punishment here. Being denied the sight of Zuri coming stings exactly the way she intends it. A reminder that Ursa is the conductor of this scene. Zuri and I are merely her playthings, dealt and denied pleasure as she wills it.
Zuri cries out over my head as she comes again. She’s slippery and soft against my mouth, her thighs surprisingly strong where I clasp her. Fuck, I could do this all day.
Except I can’t. Because, damn it, I’m about to disobey Ursa’s order. I grit my teeth and try to muscle back the pleasure she deals in rolling waves. “Mistress, please.”
“Not. Yet.” She pulls out of me so suddenly, I can’t help but cry out. Ursa slaps my ass. “On your back, Alaric.”
The new position means I have to stop sucking on Zuri’s clit. I give her pussy one last kiss and then obey, easing onto my back on the floor. I watch Ursa divest herself of the strap-on and then she’s standing over me, gloriously naked. Her body is all curves and dips and soft and strong at the same time. I could spend hours worshiping her large breasts, her soft stomach, her muscled thighs and perfect pussy. I have. I will again.
She flicks her locs over her shoulder. “Do you need a cock ring?”
Probably, but admitting as much feels like admitting failure. “No, Mistress.”
She arches her brows. “If you come before I give you permission, you’ll be punished. Are you sure?”
Anticipation curls through me. I don’t get off on playing the brat, but there’s something addictive about pitting my will against Ursa’s. Testing. “Yes, Mistress. I’m sure.”
She laughs, the sound curling through me in an almost physical way. Fuck, I love this woman. Something I haven’t admitted out loud, something I might walk back on when she’s not straddling me and sliding my aching cock into her tight pussy. Ursa sinks down slowly, her attention narrowed on my face. “You have little Zurielle all over your mouth.” She leans down and kisses me, pressing her body against mine. I should stay still, should submit, but I can’t help running my hands up her thighs and over her sides, desperate to touch as much of her as she’ll allow. Moments like these, I can’t believe how fucking lucky I am. I have this woman dominating me, this woman riding my cock, this woman naked and trusting my hands on her body.