He’s so deep inside me he could probably tickle my tonsils.
His loving gaze returns to my face, eyes a blazing inferno. “Fuck, cookie. You’re so hot and tight for me.” He accentuates his words with a few upward pulses of his hips.
I rise on my knees a little, feeling his cock retreat.
He chases my pussy with a series of rapid, hard thrusts that have me bouncing on his lap. “How does that feel?” He repeats the motion three times, then freezes like he’s demanding a response from me without speaking.
If I answer with words, I’ll break my cursing rule. Plus, I can’t imagine any words in existence that could describe a sensation this perfect. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear we were born to be together. It isn’t only my heart and soul he completes, but every other part of me.
Instead of a bumbling, inept response, I kiss him and start moving my hips, drawing him in and out at my own pace. My movements are slower and softer than his frantic claiming while I get accustomed to the position. I’ve never done this on a couch before, so I’m clumsy at first. But what I lack in experience, I make up for with eagerness.
And that’s the lie I’ll be telling myself.
Soon enough, Reed takes over.
Although I’m the one on top, he sets the pace and depth of his strokes. His strong hands settle on my waist, moving my hips at the rhythm he chooses. He kisses me when he wants to kiss me and teases my nipples when and how he wants. Despitehow we’ve only been intimate a few times, he instinctively knowsexactlyhow to please me.
It would be so easy to give in and let him continue dominating me. After all, he’s clearly comfortable calling the shots. I love what he’s doing to me, but there’s something niggling at me about this.
I’m not complaining. Not even close.
I adorethis side of him. And if I want him to do something differently, all I need to do is ask nicely. He loves it when I beg. Surprisingly, I also enjoy it. Relinquishing my body to him has a freeing effect.
But I don’t feel like begging this time.
Nor do I feel like following his lead.
And I don’t have the foggiest idea why.
With the next kiss, our tongues duel for dominance. Each time I win a battle, he whimpers into my mouth.
The heady sound sets off something inside me, forcing my desire for control to the surface.
Once or twice, I attempt to resist the pace he’s set with his pistoning hips before returning to his speed. Testing his reaction further, I lengthen the time between thrusts so I can relish the fullness of him deep inside me. At first, he doesn’t comply with my unspoken demands. I sense his hesitation as he tries to reassert his will. It doesn’t deter me.
Sweet submissive Lila has left the chat.
Soon, he stops fighting and cedes to me. Each time I bottom out, he waits for me to lift before helping finish the movement with his hands or hips.Those little victories heighten my urge for his submission.
Hot, hot, hot.
The way he kisses me changes as well. He’s tentatively handing me the reins to see if I really want to take them.
Each time I do, he melts for me.
His shoulders soften. His neck loosens. His breathing changes, and he gets more vocal. Not with words, but with heavenly sounds of surrender. Gasps, mewls, and more of those needy whimpers.
I’m in a new world of utter ecstasy with no clue how I got here.
I’ve felt powerless for ages. That’s long gone now. My body is demanding every last bit of control.
And he’s finally giving it to me.
The firmness of my touch hardens as I run my hands over his defined chest and shoulders, which are unfortunately covered.
“Take your shirt off.Now,” I order him in a tone I’ve never used before. It’s all kinds of commanding and sultry, sounding foreign to my own ears.
With his eyes bulging, Reed responds instantly, a hint of shock braided in his two-word reply. “Yes, ma’am.”
