King Hunt (Boys of Brisley 1)

“Green, Sir,” I moaned, wiggling my ass for more. I could feel his knee digging into my ribs and the position was getting harder to hold, but I swore the discomfort and mild pain were only making everything else feel better.

Slap.

Harder, much harder. Hard enough I nearly bit my tongue.

“Five!”

“You should see your ass right now, Zeppelin. Feel how hot your skin is under my hand. We’re not even halfway done, you know.”

Slap.

“S-Six,” I gasped. “Harder, Sir. I can take it.”

The little devil in my mind, the one who had been silent for weeks, reminded me I must have a death wish if I wanted it harder after the last one. But I knew how wet I was, how every time my thighs rubbed together it felt like a fucking slip-and-slide. I loved this.

Slap.

Same spot. I choked, nearly slipping off his lap as I counted, but his grip on me was sound. He didn’t let me fall, not then, not the next three times he spanked my raw, sore ass, not when he took a break to shove two thick fingers in my soaked, desperate, drenched, clenching pussy.

“That’s ten, Zeppelin. You’re so fucking wet, do you feel it? Fuck, can you hear it?” he asked, voice wrecked with lust as he drove those digits deeper inside of me and fingered me harder.

“Yes, Sir. It’s sofuckingwet!””

“Are you close? It feels like you’re close. It feels like you’re about to squirt all over our kitchen floor.”

“Sir!” I yelled, gripping the legs of the chair and trying to ground myself with the feel of his hard cock against my side. He was just as close as I was whether he wanted to admit it or not — if I squirmed just a little, just enough, I could get him off too.

But Sterling didn’t get me off. The fucking second I was about to let go, he pulled his fingers back and spanked me again. It felt so intense, so sharp and sudden that I nearly forgot to stutter out, “Ele-Eleven.”

“And one edging,” he clarified. “Color?”

I took a second to answer that time, needing him to know I was being honest and truly paying attention to my limits. “Green, S-Sir. Green.”

My eyes felt heavy as he quietly praised me, whispering what a good girl I was being as he brushed his fingers lightly over my body. “Are you going to listen the next time I snap? It was a signal you chose, after all.”

I nodded feverishly. As much as I loved being taken apart, I loved being his good girl more. “Yes, Sir. I’ll be your good girl.”

“I know you will. We’re almost done, Zeppelin. Keep counting.”

Slap.

“Twel...teen,” I mumbled, my eyes rolling in my head in the best of ways.

I didn’t even realize what I said until he stiffened.

“Repeat.”

Repeat ... what? Oh, number. “Twelve, Sir. Twelve.”

“Good.”

Slap.

I only had the final number halfway out of my mouth before he was standing up and bending me over the table instead of his lap. His foot nudged mine apart and I flattened against that smooth wood, dazed and half out of it as he got to his knees and licked me until I was shaking and whimpering with need. “Sir!”

He didn’t stop — that sinfully hot, skilled tongue swept over my clit and between my lips until it was sliding inside me and those huge hands were squeezing my wrecked ass, and still, he didn’t stop. I was shaking almost violently, mumbling pleas even I didn’t understand, but what I did understand was that this was edging number two. I wasn’t allowed to come, and he was testing me.

With that in mind I refused to let him down, but that didn’t change how close I was to letting go. “Sir! Please! Too close!”

He tapped my clit once and pulled back, then helped me stand and wrapped his arms around me. “That’s two. You’re done, sweetheart. All done. Just pleasure from here on out, okay? Talk to me.”

His lips brushed the top of my head and I’d never felt heavier in my entire life. Finding the words was a struggle, but his powerful grip brought me back and gave me a strength I didn’t know was inside me. “Sir,” I whispered, clinging to him like my life depended on it. “I need you.” Fingers curled into his shirt, tugging backwards to let him know I wanted it off of him. “I need to feel your skin.”

I’d never seen a man strip out of a suit that fast. It still took too long, but his movements were flawless as he removed his jacket, tie, shirt, and pants. I didn’t care about the socks or the boxers still hanging there — I didn’t care about anything once he lifted me up and carried me to the couch to hold me.

“You’re so good to me.” I kissed everywhere I could reach from my position and felt my hips grind of their own accord. “Fuck me, Sir. Please.”

“Soon, sweetheart. You need water and a few minutes to breathe first. Here.” He leaned forward and to the left slightly, then handed me a tumbler full of water. “I’d prefer if you ate something first too. At least a protein bar.”

“You have some protein for me alright,” I attempted to joke, but I took the cup anyway and sipped slowly. He was taking care of me in a way no one ever had before him — he was putting my needs above his own desires — and goddamnit, I felt like the luckiest woman in the world.