Vanquish (Deliver 2)

His full lips parted as he glided the shirt and skirt down her legs, his sharp silvery gaze totally and completely focused on her. No matter what kind of confrontation he'd just come from, he was here now, gifting her with the command of his concentration.

With only the bra and rope left on her body, she met his eyes comfortably and confidently. “Will you tell me about it?”

“After your punishment.” He licked the corner of his mouth, perhaps seeking the toothpick that wasn't there. “On your knees.”

She obeyed, eyes glued to the swell of his groin as he stood and unbuttoned his shirt. When he shrugged it off and tossed it somewhere near the closet, she yanked against the restraints to go after it.

He chuckled, damn him. Whatever. She'd pick it up later. Right now, she had something better to do, like take in the sight of his magnificent body.

His abs flexed with his reach for the leather belt on the floor and contracted with his stretch as he straightened. Veins ran beneath the skin of his forearms, bulging over muscle, pumping with the movements of his hands folding the belt.

Her fingers tingled to run down his chest and around his back to feel his taut muscles and absorb the smooth texture of his skin. More than that, she wanted to bask in the heat of his belt on her ass.

Dangling the strap at his side, he unzipped his pants and slid his hand inside. “Do you know how fucking hard you make me?” He removed his hand and grabbed a fistful of her hair. “Spread your knees. Arms up and elbows out. Like you're hugging a six-foot cock.”

Her mouth watered, and her pussy throbbed with liquid heat. When she assumed the pose, he stepped into the ring made by her bound arms and yanked her by her hair until her cheek pressed against his hip. The strength of his thigh supported her as he pivoted to face her, his cock hard and pulsing and tenting his slacks an inch from her face.

She slid her cheek against it, reveling in the curved shape and the way it jumped against her touch. Her arms tightened around his thigh, and she ground her clit against his shin, humping his leg and throbbing with need. “Van—”

“Who am I?”

She smiled. “The ruler over lights and porches and window shades and spectacular messes and—” The yank on her hair made her smile harder, and she answered honestly and respectfully. “Master.”

He caressed the edge of the belt over her cheek. “Describe your pussy. I want details.”

“It's wet, leaking onto my legs. And it hurts. It's clenching like crazy.” Her admission intensified the throb. “Van, I need you.”

“What does it look like?”

She choked. Dammit, why did he have to go there?

The belt whistled through the air and landed across her ass with a searing sting.

She grunted against his hip. “It's swollen.”

“More.” He swung again, hitting her other ass cheek.

Her thoughts blurred with shameful images, but she would tell him, and maybe he'd spank her harder. It didn’t matter why he belted her as long as he continued to do so. The pain was a need, a distraction, and a connection. “It's stretched, loose, chewed up, and used.”

He laid into her, beating her ass just as he'd promised. She didn't count the swings. She never did, too consumed by the fiery sensations blazing through her body, the press of his cock in her face, the exertion of his breath, and the bolster of his leg as she hugged it tighter with every stroke. The pain was binding, an extension of him, an outpouring of his very essence, his darkness and devotion, his damage and strength.

He could whip her against a tree, fuck her beneath the moon, or tie her down on the porch and mar her flesh with the cuts of his teeth. It didn't matter, because wherever he took her, no matter how brutal or dark the destination, there would always be warmth. Because he would be with her.

The belt clattered to the floor. He slipped his leg from her embrace and tackled the knots, unwinding the rope from her arms. The room spun around her, but her world was aligned. Because he was right there, his arms beneath her legs and back, his chest against hers. He lifted her and laid her on the bed.

She melted into the mattress, ass tingling, her pussy spread and soaking and aching to be filled. He stripped his pants, his erection long and thick, as he climbed over the edge of the mattress.

He wedged his shoulders into the gap of her thighs and breathed against her pussy, “I don't see anything here that's stretched, loose, or chewed up. But the last part, well...” He pressed a finger in her opening and stirred it around the edges, shooting pulses of heat through her inner muscles. “It's definitely used. I've made sure of that.”

He dragged a slow, torturous lick through her folds, and her hands flew to his hair, her pelvis bucking to meet his mouth.

“Fuck, you taste like heaven. I could eat you all night...after you tell me more about this hang-up. That brain-damaged prick you were married to didn't come up with his insult by looking at you. I'm beginning to think he never looked at you at all.”

The truth of his words tensed her legs around his shoulders.

He kissed her cunt with an open mouth and a swirling tongue, devouring every inch of her slick flesh. Hot, wet, “No, he picked up on your insecurity and exploited it to get his rocks off.” He lapped at her clit. “Tell me the source of your insecurity, and I'll let you come.”

His sucking resumed, his lips sliding over her, his tongue thrusting and circling. His skillful mouth smothered her with overwhelming pleasure, and just as the orgasm rose up, he pulled back. Fuck! Then he went at her again, eating and biting and pushing her toward the edge.

She vibrated with need, the urgency to come overwhelming. “He wouldn't go down on me. He...he talked about the girls who ran in my circle, about how tight their cunts must've been and how he wanted to bury his face in that.” She blew out a tired breath. “He hadn't gone down on me in years, and I...I thought it was my pubic hair so I shaved. It didn't help, so I decided there was something wrong with me.”

He looked up, his lips glistening, his eyes twin flames of silver. “His fucking loss.” Then he immersed his face in her folds and blew her fucking mind.

Her legs trembled, and her fingers twisted and yanked his hair. The attack of his teeth and tongue sent her soaring with weightless wings, the release spinning her out of control, her back arching and her toes curling.

When she landed, he caught her, shifting them to their sides, face-to-face. He pulled her thigh over his hip, his cock nudging her opening. “Your pussy belongs to me. You're not allowed to insult it. Not in your head or otherwise.”

“Okay.” She smiled, and it must've looked as loopy and satisfied as she felt.

With a finger gliding around the tip of his shaft and spreading her open, he worked himself in. His hand flew to the back of her head, and he groaned into her hair as he thrust.

The invasion was full and snug, every inch of him warming and stroking her insides. Her muscles contracted around him, all thought, all feeling, centered on where they were joined. He pumped faster, pulling her head back by her hair and taking her mouth. My God, the man could kiss. She could come just from the slide of his tongue.

She opened her eyes and found him watching her with affection and a thrilling amount of lust. He hadn't grown bored with her. He wanted this. He wanted her. Not Liv.

As he began to plow into her with intoxicating roughness, she returned to his mouth, biting his lips, her fingers tracing the ridges of flexing muscle along his torso. He slammed into her, grinding against her clit, and pulled out in long strokes, repeatedly, pushing her to the edge, teetering...

He rolled her from her side to her back and deepened the thrusts. His head dropped to the pillow, his softly-shaven cheek rubbing against hers, his breaths sharpening. “Fuck, Amber. So fucking close. You need to come.”

She clutched his ass and clamped down around his driving length. Four more grinding rotations, and she let go. “Aaaagggh, God, I'm coming.” As strong as the first, the surge lifted and carried her

through waves of drugging pleasure.

His hips jerked. “Fuck.” He buried his face in her neck, his palm covering the side of her head, his powerful body trembling through jerky thrusts. “Fuck. Me, too. Fuuuuck.”

She held him tight as he fell apart above her, his weight a crushing security and his groans quenching her undying need for his appreciation.

As his muscles relaxed and his cock pulsed inside her, a voice whispered at the back of her head. “Van? The condom?”

He barked out a laugh and rolled to his back, taking her with him and slipping out of her, his seed smearing against her thigh. “Little late for that, babe.” He reached between them, swiping a finger through the mess on her leg and sliding it into her mouth. The clean salty flavor mingled with his saliva as he kissed her slow and lazily. He leaned back, grinning.

She pinched his ass. “You have a semen fetish.”