Another sound of agreement.
I keep at it, and while I enjoy the hell out of it, it’s less about my pleasure than it is to torture her a bit, because I’m fairly certain that’s what she wanted. To be abused. To have control taken from her.
And I’m gonna make sure she enjoys every second of it.
I pull out of her mouth and scoot back to grip her jaw and claim her mouth. She kisses me back with fervor, her tongue sliding over my lips, her mouth slanting over mine, lips sipping.
When she bites my lower lip, I grip her throat.
“Don’t,” I say when she releases it.
I mean it. I don’t like to be pushed, not even by her. I don’t punish her or strong-talk because she likes that. I don’t want to reward. I just let her see my frown. Don’t move until I’m sure it’s been registered.
“I’m sorry.”
I trace my thumb down between her breasts. “That’s a pretty apology, little girl. I like it when you surrender.”
I stop at her belly button and circle it.
She lifts her hips, urging me lower.
I scoot lower and drag my thumbs up the insides of her legs. She shivers beneath my touch, her pussy glistening in anticipation of my fingers arriving there.
I tease her, rubbing circles at the apex of her inner thighs, but not touching her pussy.
“I’ll be good,” she whisper-promises. Like there’s anything she could say that would keep me from doing whatever the fuck I want anyway.
I nip her inner thigh, flick my tongue on a path toward her pussy, but stop before I reach it.
“Mr. Tacone. Mr. Paolo. Sir. Big guy. Please.”
“I like the begging.” I reward her with a single flick of my tongue over her core.
She sucks in her breath. “Oh please. Oh please, oh please, oh please oh please. I’ll be good. I’ll be such a good girl.”
I meant it when I said I liked the begging. I’m harder than marble.
Maybe I’ve always been on a power trip.
Maybe it’s always been wrong—
Until I met this girl.
I flatten my tongue and lick a long line right up the middle of her slit.
She shivers, legs scissoring to wrap around my back. I push them back off, hold them apart as I lower my head again. Then I get to work. I use my tongue in every way possible to tease her into a frenzy, keep her on the edge of an orgasm.
When she’s a babbling, writhing mess, I rise up on my knees and roll her hips so she’s on her belly.
Well, she doesn’t quite make it to her belly because her wrists are fastened to the headboard, so she’s in a contorted, twisted position that I’m a sick fuck for loving. I slap her ass, which is still red from her whipping earlier, then burrow my thumb between her ass cheeks. “Think I should fuck your ass again tonight? Hmm?”
She’s wide-eyed, alert, her gaze trained on my face, but she doesn’t protest. She doesn’t want it, though, I can tell.
I massage her anus as I rise up behind her and grip my cock, but after I sheath it, I plunge into her pussy, not her ass.
She moans with pleasure.
I reach up and brace my palm against the headboard and start banging her with punctuated thrusts. She makes these cute little ung sounds every time, bracing her own hands to keep from hitting her head each time I drive her up on the bed.
“You made a big mistake showing me this side of you, Wylde West,” I growl, watching her breasts bob every time I slam in.
“Why?”
I don’t pause in my rhythm, each thrust so satisfying I want to bellow my success. “When your debt is paid, I might not let you go.”
She twists to look at me over her shoulder and I catch a question in her gaze. A flash of something I can’t read. Vulnerability? First time she’s shown me any weakness. Because I’m not dumb enough to believe the crazy act for a minute. That’s a card she plays for effect, I know that. Something to push people away or make them underestimate her.
I need to stay on my toes with this one, because there’s an excellent chance that despite her sexual surrender, she’s preparing a countermove that will bury me.
She comes.
When her muscles tighten and squeeze my cock, I shorten my strokes, pumping hard and fast until I come, too.
As I slow my pumping, I nestle up behind her, kiss her pale shoulder. I reach around and rub the barbell of her piercing down on her clit and she comes again, with another delicious round of dick-squeezing with her inner walls.
I kiss her neck, nip the shell of her ear.
“I like fucking you, Caitlin.” Stating the obvious. But it feels like a huge admission. I’m not one to talk about feelings.