“This.” He lifts my arm and ghosts his fingertips over my bruised ribs. His touch is feather-light, making my skin prickle.
“Oh… that. It’s nothing. I did it myself.” I wave off his concern.
“Explain.” His tone remains deep and husky.
“I fell over in the bath. It was stupid, really,” I admit rather sheepishly. Considering he looks ready to commit murder, I’m not about to mention that I do stupid shit like that all the time.
“You will take more care in the future. I’m the only one allowed to mark this beautiful skin. Neglecting yourself and your body counts as disrespect, and you will be punished for it. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir.” The words fly out of my mouth without thought, and I resist the urge to salute him.
“Good girl,” he replies, smirking. He pats his thigh. “Sit, kitten, let me take care of that needy pussy for you.”
I position myself in his lap, relishing the sensation of his clothes against my hypersensitive naked skin. He adjusts me so my back is against his chest and spreads my legs over his parted ones, leaving my pussy fully exposed. His fingertips trail down my throat, lightly stroking my chest and tracing circles around each nipple, coaxing them into tight buds. Moving lower, he eventually arrives at my slick folds and grunts when he feels how wet I’ve become. With deliberate slowness, he glides his fingers up and down my slit, gathering my wetness before zeroing in on my clit. His touch is gentle, unhurried. So, I lean back against him, resting my head on his shoulder, and close my eyes as he leisurely pleasures me at his own pace.
Up and down.
Up and down.
I release a contented sigh, enjoying the comforting sensation that slowly stokes the flames of my arousal.
“Let’s go over some house rules, goddess,” he whispers against the shell of my ear.
“Every morning, you’ll wake me with your hot little mouth on my cock. You’ll remain naked at all times in my house, including in front of my household staff. They’ve all signed NDAs and are aware of my proclivities. You’ll stay naked even when we have guests over, unless I state otherwise. During the day, when I’m not at home, you’re free to choose your outfit as long as it doesn’t include pants, shorts, a bra or panties.” He pauses for a moment. “Except when you want to exercise.
“You’ll greet me at the door on your knees in the traditional submissive position,” he continues to softly whisper in my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin. His pace and pressure on my slit haven’t changed, but his words alone have brought me closer to the edge.
“Look at you, kitten, you’ve drenched my sweats. Do you like my house rules? Does it turn you on, hmm?”
I moan and arch my back, chasing the friction I need to drop off that cliff into ecstasy.
“Do you need to come?”
“Yesss!” I hiss.
He turns my chin toward him and smashes his lips firmly against mine, kissing me passionately, a battle of lips, teeth, and tongue. He ramps up the pace with his fingers, sending me into a frenzy before giving my pussy a sharp, short slap.
“You can come.”
I gasp as my orgasm rolls through my body like an earthquake, leaving me shivering in its wake.
“Good girl,” he murmurs with obvious approval.
I slump back against him, taking a few deep breaths to calm my hammering heart. He brings his fingers, still glistening with my essence, to his mouth and savors my taste.
“Mmm, fucking delicious. But I need more.” Rising from the sofa, he carries me bridal style to the dining room.
“Time for my snack.” He winks as he crosses the threshold.
I huff a laugh, enjoying this unexpectedly corny side to him. He gently lays me out on the dining table, the polished dark wood biting cold against my back, making me shiver again. He sits in a high-back chair and grips my ankles, dragging me toward him and pushing open my legs until his face is right on top of my core. He lazily draws his tongue up my slit and moans.
“You’re gonna come two more times for me,” he commands.
I shake my head. “I can’t, I’m too sensitive.”
“That wasn’t a request. I’ll take it slowly, but you will give me two more.” His hard eyes on mine make my core clench. Dameon gets back to work, and just like before, he’s in no rush, savoring me like a fine wine. His eyes are closed, and he’s lost in the moment, lost in my taste. He’s enjoying pleasuring me, and it makes it so much hotter. Dameon has always been amazing at eating pussy; it’s his specialty, and something I’ve always craved during our time together at Eden. Eating pussy is a lot like eating ribs: if it’s not all over your face and fingers, you’re not doing it right. And Dameon doesn’t hold back. He’s a man on a mission and won’t stop until I’m screaming his name, and he’s covered in my juices.
I relax against the table with my hands raised over my head, enjoying the sensation of his thick tongue exploring the contours of my pussy. So far, he’s astutely avoided my clit, as he leisurely traces the outline, drawing each lip into his mouth for a sensual suck. His tongue delves between my folds, circling my entrance before briefly plunging inside and then withdrawing.
