The feeling of being taken by the woman he loved was beyond anything Braze had words for.
As Kaitlyn sank down onto him, taking his length inside her tight, wet pussy, it was like being sheathed in living velvet. So many sensations—so many emotions rushed through him. She was so hot…so wet…so utterly fucking perfect.
Her inner walls hugged every inch of him—a silken caress that stole the breath from his lungs and made his vision blur and swim. The urge to thrust up—to bury himself to the hilt and lose control—was a primal scream in his blood. But her command to hold still while she rode him was a cage around that instinct, stronger than any manacle could ever be.
He tried to be still but failed just once—a tiny, involuntary upward jerk of his hips as she rose on a particularly slow, teasing stroke which felt like pleasurable torture.
Kaitlyn’s hands—which had been gripping his shoulders—dug in sharply, her nails biting into his flesh.
“No,” she said, her voice breathless but filled with iron command.
She stilled completely and settled, seated with him deep inside her, making him feel every exquisite spasm of her inner walls around him. Then she looked into his eyes.
“Hold…still,” she ordered. “You don’t move until I tell you to.”
A groan, half frustration/half worship, rumbled in Braze’s chest. He forced his body to obey, locking every muscle, becoming nothing more than a seat—a tool for her pleasure. It was agony…and ecstasy.
All he could do was sit there, his hands now fisted in the couch cushions beside his thighs, as she began to move again. She set a slow, deliberate, grinding rhythm, rising up until just the head of his cock remained inside her, then sinking back down with a controlled roll of her hips that teased every inch of his shaft. She wasn’t just riding him—she was claiming him on her own terms—deliberately milking him with her hot, wet pussy.
And her eyes…Goddess, her eyes. They never left his. Dark with power and glazed with pleasure, they held him captive more surely than any chain. She leaned in, capturing his mouth in a slow, deep, possessive kiss. Her tongue teased his—showing her ownership. She tasted of herself and of his own pre-cum—a perfect, delicious combination that made him even harder.
When she broke the kiss, her lips stayed a breath away from his. Her hot, panting breaths washed over his skin as she spoke.
“Do you feel how deep you are inside me, my Protector?” she murmured, grinding down in a slow circle that made him see stars. “I can feel every thick, hard inch of you. Stretching me open…filling me up perfectly.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he gasped, the words torn from him. Fuck, it was so fucking hard not to come with her riding him like this!
“I love how big you are,” she continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she began to move faster, her breasts brushing against his chest with each bounce. “I love how you make my pussy ache in the best way. I love knowing that this…” She slammed down hard, taking him deep, and he groaned. “This thick cock is all mine. To ride…to take my pleasure from whenever I want.”
Her words were a dark magic, weaving around his restraint, tightening the coil of pleasure in his gut to a near-breaking point. He was drowning in her, in the feel of her…in the scent of her feminine desire…in the sound of her voice painting pictures of ownership that made the primitive part of him roar with pleasure and approval.
“Yes, Mistress!” he groaned, his head falling back against the couch, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fucking take me! Use me! Ride me hard—fuck yourself on my cock!”
Kaitlyn did exactly that. Her pace became less controlled and more frantic—driven by her own rising need. Her nails scored his shoulders as she used him for leverage, driving herself down onto him again and again and Braze fucking loved it. Her breathy moans turned into sharp cries.
“That’s it… oh, gods, Braze… right there… I’m coming! Coming so hard all over your cock!”
Her inner muscles clenched around him in a fierce, rhythmic spasm, milking his length as she cried out, her body going taut.
The sensation was so intense it ripped a ragged roar from his throat. He was so close, so fucking close—the pressure building to an unbearable peak.
But still, her order held. Don’t come—not until I say so.
At last, she collapsed against his chest, panting and trembling through the aftershocks. Braze held himself rigid, every muscle screaming, his cock throbbing painfully inside her still-trembling channel.
Fuck—could a male die from sexual need? He was afraid he might soon find out.
Then Kaitlyn began to move again—a slow, sensual grind, seeking another peak. She found it and another orgasm shook her—softer but no less intense.
Braze felt her juices gush around his imprisoned shaft but somehow he held off, though it was a near thing. How much of this could he fucking take? He just didn’t know…
“Mistress—” he began.
“No, not yet,” she told him and began moving again. She came a third time—a shivering, continuous wave of pleasure that had her sobbing his name into his neck and Braze thought he really might die. How could he keep holding off while she was teasing him like this? Stroking him with her pussy as she ground on top of him—fucking herself to orgasm over and over on his cock. Fuck, he was dying here!
But finally, she stilled. For a long moment, she just lay against him, her weight a sweet burden, her breathing gradually slowing.
Panic, cold and sharp, sliced through the haze of Braze’s lust. Was she done? Had she taken her pleasure and would now send him away, aching and unfulfilled? The thought caused a physical pain inside him. He’d heard human males talk about “blue balls”—well his were damn-near purple at this point!
