His hand cracks against my ass, a firm, stinging spank that makes me gasp. Heat blooms across my skin, and to my surprise, sparks a thrill deep in my core. Another spank follows, then another, his palm lingering to soothe the sting. I moan, shocked at how much I crave the sharp sensation, my body arching into his touch, wanting more.
“Good,” he murmurs his approval. He presses me forward so my cheek lands against the mattress and leans in, his breath hot against my inner thigh, his tongue tracing the edge of my thong, teasing the sensitive skin near my pussy. My clit throbs as he licks closer, grazing the lace over my slick folds, each stroke agonizingly precise. He builds the sensation, pausing just as my body trembles on the edge of another orgasm.
“Hold. You don’t come again until I allow it.”
My breath syncs with his as I fight to obey, my body a quivering mess, utterly his.
“On the floor in front of me,” he commands.
The rug cushions my knees as I sink before him, arousal pooling low in my belly. He unties the red ribbon from my wrists, threading my fingers into his belt loops. He unzips, freeing his hard cock, thick and heavy, the sight making my mouth water.
“Slowly,” he guides as I lean forward, taking him into my mouth. My lips stretch around his girth, tongue tracing the pulsing vein along its length, savoring his heat. I swirl my tongue over the tip, tasting the salty bead of precum, my breathing shallow with need.
I want him to unravel, to feel him lose control under my touch, to claim a sliver of power over this unyielding man. My handstighten on his belt loops, pulling him closer, my mouth working faster, deeper, greedy for his release.
“Breathe,” he says, his hand under my chin steering gently, slowing me. “Not yet.”
His voice cuts through my haze, a reminder of who’s in charge. He pulls me back just as I feel him tense, denying me the triumph, pride and ruin burning together.
“On your back,” he orders.
I move to the bed as he stands at the foot, gazing at me while he sheds his shirt, revealing taut muscle. His body is a masterpiece of controlled power, muscles rippling, broad shoulders tapering to a chiseled chest, abs etched like stone, arms corded with muscular ropes that stand out as he braces himself. Scars crisscross his torso; tattoos ink his skin in intricate designs.
His cock, thick and veined, stands rigid, the tip glistening.
He climbs on top, his heat enveloping me like a claim. His cock slides against my slick folds, the lace barrier maddening, his length hot and heavy, pulsing with need.
“Are you on birth control?”
“Yes, sir,” I gasp, my voice trembling.
“You’re not telling me another lie, are you?” he asks, his eyes locking onto mine with piercing intensity.
“No, sir.”
“Good girl,” he says, satisfaction lacing his tone. He shifts, positioning himself at my entrance, pushing the lace aside. Slowly, he drives inside for the first time, inch by torturous inch, stretching my walls with his girth.
The sensation is overwhelming, a burning fullness that borders on pain but melts into exquisite pleasure. I clench around him as he fills me completely, our bodies locking in a perfect, intimate fit. I gasp, nails digging into his back, feeling every bit as he sinks deeper.
His rhythm builds, deliberate and commanding, with deep thrusts that make my breasts bounce, then stillness that leaves me aching. The slap of skin on skin echoes in the room.
Sweat beads on his scarred chest and trickles down his tattoos as he drives into me. My clit grinds against the base of his cock with each movement, sparks of passion shooting through me. I groan with pleasure, but then he angles away just enough to deny the peak, his control absolute.
“Hold,” he says, his hand cupping my face, thumb brushing my lip. I clench around him, trembling, every nerve alive with the sensation of him buried deep, pulsing inside me.
He pulls out and flips me onto my knees, forearms braced on the mattress, hips lifted as he positions me just right. My back arches, liquid pleasure dripping down my thighs, the cool air kissing my heated skin.
The sight of him behind me, muscles flexing, scars and tattoos shifting with each movement, sends a fresh wave of desire through me.
“Look at you, dripping for me,” he growls, voice thick with control, his fingers trailing my slickness before he slides his cock in again, deep and unyielding, stretching me anew. The fullness makes me moan, my walls fluttering around him as he bottoms out. “My good girl, taking it so well.”
He fucks me to the edge, his thrusts powerful, hips snapping against my ass in a perfect rhythm, my clit throbbing as friction builds. He pauses at the brink, buried deep, letting the ache build until I’m whimpering, desperate, my body quaking.
“You don’t come until I say, understand?” His hand fists in my hair gently, pulling my head back to meet his gaze.
I nod, tears of frustration and need pricking my eyes, my pussy clenching helplessly around his length, utterly at his mercy.
Again and again, he drives his cock deep, each thrust hitting that spot inside me, making my clit pulse.
