The feminist in me takes a dramatic exit stage left.
Yes, sir.
I drop my hands to the button on his jeans, the backs of my fingers digging into the band where it rests against his abdomen. Slipping the button loose, I waste no time dragging the zipper down, taking a moment to cup my palm over the bulge straining there.
“Keep that up and you’re going to end up with an ass sore enough you won’t be able to sit without thinking about it,” he warns close to my ear. “I don’t think you understand just how precarious my restraint is tonight, Louise. You are treading very thin ice.”
“I already told you I don’t want you to be gentle, Zach,” I whisper back, shoving my palms into the waistband of his jeans and beneath the fabric of his underwear—of course he’s got on tight as fuck boxer briefs—dragging both items down his thighs as far as I can reach with his hand still bracketing my throat. “I can’t undress you if you don’t let me go.”
His hand drops from around my throat and I drop to my knees in front of him, dragging the jeans and his underwear down his legs. He steps out of them, kicking them away. And then he’s backing away before I can reach for him.
I make another petulant whine as he backs away just far enough that I can’t reach. “Eyes on me, Louise.”
Sitting back on my heels, I raise my eyes. All the way up his magnificent body, but I get thoroughly distracted by the hardness between his thighs.
Reaching forward, he grips my chin between hard fingers and snaps my face up the rest of the way. “I said eyes up here, Louise.”
Licking my lips, I whisper, “No, you said eyes on you. You didn’t specify where—”
“You naughty fucking thing,” he growls on a laugh, the sound sending shivers over every inch of my body. “Such a goddamn brat. I’m going to enjoy wrecking you tonight. See how well you learn to listen by the end.”
“I’ve never listened well—”
“You are not doing yourself any favors,” he husks, stepping forward and slipping his thumb between my lips. “Open your mouth. You’re going to suck my cock like the dirty little slut you are. Yes?”
In answer, I drop my mouth open and stick out my tongue. He groans, fisting the base of his cock with his other hand and stroking it before placing the tip against my waiting tongue. Sliding inside, I close my lips around him and bring my hands to his thighs.
“Nuh-uh,” he rasps from above me, pulling out of my mouth. “Hands behind your back. This is for me, not for you.”
Eyes on his, I do as he says, slowly.
Dropping my arms, I bring them behind me, clasping my fingers together in a knot. The position of my arms brings my breasts forward and up like an offering.
“So good when you listen,” he whispers, sliding his cock back between my lips. I moan around him when he slides both hands into my hair on either side of my head, controlling my movements. “Fuck, Louise. Your fucking mouth.”
Hallowing my cheeks, I suck as he slides in and out, each thrust in going a little deeper. I’m at his mercy, and fuck it’s hot.
Releasing my clasped hands, I raise them to his thighs again, leaning into the way he’s fucking my mouth, fingertips digging into his thighs. Zach snarls from above me, his fingers tightening almost painfully in my hair as he drags his length out from between my lips.
“Do I need to restrain you?” he asks darkly, leaning down until his face is mere inches from mine. Shaking my head as much as I can with his fingers gripping tight in my hair, he tsks. “Get on the bed. I can’t concentrate with you misbehaving.”
Zach releases me and I scramble to my feet, climbing onto the bed, but before I can move again, his large hands have gripped my waist, directing me.
“On your hands and knees,” he growls from behind me in the dark. “Ass in the air.” I do as he says, and then his hand is between my shoulder blades, and I lower my upper body until my chest is resting against the mattress, face turned, cheek flat. “Hands behind your back.”
Heart hammering frantically inside my chest, I shift, drawing my arms behind my back once more. He manacles both wrists in one of his large hands, pinning them to the small of my back. And then I feel the mattress dip as he kneels next to me, his lips dragging over my cheek.
“Tell me now if you don’t want this, Louise.”
Panting, I shake my head. My shoulders ache from the position, but I don’t want him to stop. I’m trembling, anticipation and desire and just a little fear.
“I want to mark this ass up.”
Nodding, I shift against the mattress, and his fingers tighten around my wrists, securing me where I am.
“I want to leave my handprints on it.” He groans, smoothing his free hand over the curve of my ass and down the backside of my thigh so lightly it sends goosebumps breaking out along every inch of me, and I shiver. “God I can’t wait to see my fucking handprint here.”
I nod again, whimpering.
