Bossed Around

And eventually she starts to whimper again. Whine with frustration.

It’s music to my ears. Give me the weight of your problems, Thea. Let me fix.

“Still not close enough,” she pants against my mouth, her brows knit in confusion. “O-or I was. It was perfect and now I need more. I need more, Duncan.”

“Yes, angel.”

My hands shake with the need to tear the virginal white nightgown from her delicious body, but firmly rooted inside of me is an intuition about what this female needs. What she wants and when she wants it. And I know I have to completely expose myself before she’ll do the same. Today on the throne, she was in charge of her own nudity. Of the whole situation. But she’s out of her depth here, so I have to reach the deep end first, before she’ll follow.

I lean back and gently slide her onto my thighs, going to work on my button and fly, wincing at the immense pressure between my legs. Precome has already leaked out and spotted the front of my pants from having Thea rubbing on top of me. I suck in a breath and drag out my dripping cock, cursing through my teeth when my balls emerge, dragging over the teeth of my zipper. And I look up, finding Thea watching in fascination, eyes excited. Lips teeth-marked from her arousal.

“This is good pain?” she whispers, flashing me her wide eyes.

“Yes,” I grit out. “God, yes.”

Biting her lip, she drags her fingertips down my abdomen and circles my cock with her small hands. She cradles the brutal length of it in her left hand and slaps it sharply with her right, making my rear up and shout, my pleasure/pain carrying through the courtyard. She slaps it again, harder. And again. Milky moisture dribbles from the head and she makes a girlish, happy sound at the sight of it, nearly spilling the rest of my load.

Then she slaps my cock again, watching me closely. “Th-this is good pain?”

“Yes. Fuck. Fuck.”

Her fingernails bury themselves in my balls. “Watch your mouth.”

I don’t take a breath. I don’t dare. Not in the presence of such magnificence. This beauty, hidden away for so long, having the courage to follow her instinct to rule me. Not questioning it. She’s brave and incredible and mine. I need her to be mine always. For every second of the rest of my life. “I’m sorry, angel,” I gasp, her nails digging in ever so slightly deeper into my testicles, shooting a sharp-edged ribbon of bliss down to my toes, causing a spasm in my belly. An almost-climax. “Anything you give me is good pain. Anything.”

Slowly, she eases her nails from my flesh and more blood rushes south to fill the space occupied by her grip, ripping a hoarse sound from my throat. It’s uncomfortable in the best way, the most unbelievable way. Excruciatingly perfect. And it gets even better when she strokes my cock lovingly, like an apology, her lips brushing back and forth across my panting mouth. “Good giant,” she murmurs, scooting closer. “You’re so good.”

Bringing the tip of my throbbing dick to her pussy, she tucks it between her slippery folds, eyes locked on mine the whole time. Holding me in fucking thrall. Holding me prisoner in a cell I never want to be released from. She’s got me—my heart, my body, my soul—in the palm of her hand.

“Help me fit it,” she exhales, her sweet, warm breath bathing my face, making me eyelids heavy, along with the lust in my stomach, my blood, my bones.

I reach for myself, but stop short. “Can I touch it, Thea?”

Her lips part, pupils expanding. She’s exultant. “Yes,” she whispers shakily, watching me take over. Watching me drag my fist, balls to tip, three times. Slowly. Then I guide it to her virgin hole, rubbing my hard flesh over the top of it, requesting entry. Her thighs are draped over mine, spread wide, her nightgown around her hips. There has never been a more beautiful sight witnessed anywhere. Not anywhere on this earth.

So beautiful that some instinct to claim rears its head inside of me and I press myself into her wet, little hole, groaning as the helmet of my shaft disappears between the bare folds of her sex, earning a gasp from Thea’s mouth. A groan from mine.

“Ah, Jesus,” I push through my teeth. “Baby’s so tight.”

She wiggles her hips sensually, her hands raking up and down my chest. “I want more.”

God knows I want to give her more. I want to rifle the full length of it into her snug little pocket and slam in and out until the agony between my legs is gone. But she’s so delicate, so trusting, and I focus on that. The way she believes in me, knows I’ll do what’s right, no matter how difficult. “I can get it in,” I say raggedly. “I can have you sitting on the whole of it, lass.”