Domination (Explicitly Yours 2)

“Good,” he said, grit in his voice. “You’re doing good.”

Pride swelled in her. She wanted to prove to him she could enjoy it, elicit more praise. As he added a second finger, she focused on her breathing through the initial bite of pain. Soon, as his probing became deeper, quicker, she not only accepted him inside her but wanted him there.

“God,” she exhaled, “damn.”

His only response was a low grunt and to stretch her even more with another finger. She’d warmed to him and deep in her belly, gradually, a knot of pleasure began to form. She curled her hands in and out of balls around the comforter. He withdrew his fingers without warning and in their place came a much heavier pressure.

“Wait,” she said.

He rubbed the head of his dick against her puckered opening. “I’ll stay gentle,” Beau said, coating them both in more lube. Though the pain worried her, it wasn’t enough to stop her. She was too turned on to tell him no for that reason alone. It was that this was something she’d never given Johnny—something he wouldn’t forgive if he found out.

“I can’t let you have this,” she said.

He slid the length of his shaft between her cheeks. “Why not?”

“I’ve never…” Sharing her and Johnny’s sex life with Beau seemed wrong. Everything was wrong—him pressing against such an intimate place, her not only allowing it, but wanting it, when she never had before. But those things were also spurring on her arousal. “I just can’t…shouldn’t.”

“It’s part of the deal.” He sounded frayed, edgy with impatience as one of his hands kneaded her ass cheek. “When and how I want.” He blew out an exhale. “Where.”

“Johnny’s tried, and I’ve told him no every time. He’s begged me, Beau. You don’t understand what this means.”

He put one elbow by her head and closed his body over her back. “Yes, I do,” he said into her hair, “and it only makes me want it more.” The tip of his cock intruded on her, begging to enter. “Remember how good it felt to submit to me?” His hot breath warmed her ear. “That’s all this is. Yielding. Taking everything I give you, because that is our arrangement. Because you like it that way.”

She’d been determined not to let Beau have this. He had the power to turn her body against her, though—her mind too. He would never be satisfied. This was her last defense against him, but he’d reduced her to a quivering mess and set her on a fragile, tenuous edge that might give any moment and plunge her into absolute vulnerability.

“I want this part as mine.” His insistent pressing gave way to short, slick strokes as he entered her. It stung and throbbed, and her instinct was to reject the invasion, to recoil, to push him out, but whenever she tensed, he released a shh into her hair then kissed her in the same spot, waiting until she calmed. Her blood seemed to simultaneously rush and drain through and from her body. He was big, unfairly big it seemed in that moment, so much that she almost wished Johnny, not quite as big, had broken her in first.

“You’re so tight. Let me fuck your ass, Lola, your tight virgin ass—not because I want it. Do it because you want me to have it.”

He inched in. Didn’t he know he could have whatever he wanted? Not because they’d agreed to it, but because she was utterly consumed with him, irrevocably owned by him? The pain was nothing to give him this—one more thing to link them together long after they’d said goodbye. He’d always be the first to feel her this way, to break down her every last barrier.

He pulled out and edged in deeper. She felt a little mor

e of him and hurt a little less with each push. “That’s it,” he said. “Just relax. Let me do all the work.”

She swallowed and swallowed, her throat impossibly dry. He moved off her body, and she realized she was sweating—or he was, or they both were. He put both hands on her ass and leaned into her, spreading her, thrusting, splitting her apart, holding her together. All she could do was groan, unable to process so much happening at once.

“All right?” he asked. He was gritting his teeth.

Every part of her that touched the bed was sweating now. “Yes,” she exhaled.

“I won’t last long. Just watching you is enough.” When she’d think he was all the way in, he’d pull out a little and go deeper still. “Give me your hand,” he said.

She bent her arm around to her lower back, and he laced his fingers with hers. He picked up speed, became less gentle. She couldn’t tell who was grasping whose hand.

Any shame she’d been clinging to dissolved as he fucked her most intimate spot. He filled her, all of her, discovering her, claiming her—from the inside. She had to know he was feeling this too. “What’s it like for you?” she asked.

“I just feel you, baby, like fucking heaven.” He panted over her, squeezing the life out of her ass and her hand. He stopped moving, still squeezing, still panting. “I want you to feel me back,” he said. “Move on me. Make yourself come.”

She was hesitant at first, even though she would’ve done anything he asked at that moment. It was counterintuitive, but she pushed back onto him, then forward into the mattress. She did it again—back and forth, her hips up and down, riding him slowly, taking every inch. When her need surpassed her timidity, she gyrated harder, faster, grinding against the bed, feeling his cock so fat inside her that there wasn’t room for anything else in her body. She became fueled by an insane need to get off, by Beau’s primal grunts she’d never heard before—not even the times he’d fucked her to the hilt, every muscle in his body strained. Her backing onto him was doing something to them both. Her fist was a vise around the comforter as she pulled and pushed. She opened her mouth, but her screams were silent, that was how hard she came—so intense and blinding, so unlike anything she’d felt before.