“I think you’re bigger than that plug and you won’t just sit there.” She let her head fall back, the heat of his breath warming her up all over again. Now that she thought about it, it really had been a starter orgasm. A little quake when he could give her a 9.9 on the Richter scale. She clenched around the plug, feeling the fullness there and wondering what that would feel like when it was Jesse’s flesh sliding in and out.
He licked her clit, a slow stroke of his tongue. “No, I won’t. I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you long and hard. I’ll try to make it last, but your ass is going to be so tight.” A single finger slipped into her pussy, rotating and tantalizing. “You’ll grip my dick until I can’t see straight. I’ll have to fight not to come the minute I feel you all around me.”
His words were as hot as his tongue. Phoebe had to force herself not to roll over and just offer herself up. “What if I don’t like it?”
“You have your safe word, but you won’t use it.” That finger started to move in a slow groove. In and out, curling up to stroke her sweet spot. Not enough. Never enough. He punctuated each stroke with a lick and a sweet suckling of her clit. “You’ll like it. You’ll love how deep I’ll go and how close we are. You’ll love the fact that you’re sore tomorrow because you’ll still feel me there. I’ll still be with you every time you feel that delicious ache or when your breasts brush against your blouse and your nipples get a tweak of soreness. You’ll remember that I had you and that I’ll have you again.”
Or she would remember what she’d given up. She would remember what she could have had. She likely wouldn’t be on that plane with Jesse. She would be with her brother, going back to DC to face a fight they didn’t even understand.
Yes. She wanted that ache in her body because it would match the one in her soul. Any remembrance of him was worthwhile, would fuel the long years ahead when she would mourn two men.
“Take me, Jesse.”
“Not enough.” He kissed her clit and then drew the little nub between his teeth. He gave her the finest edge, that remarkable spot between pain and pleasure when the world fell away and all that mattered was what happened between them. It was the place where she could cry, where she could submit, where she could feel pleasure without guilt.
The sensation built, starting low in her pelvis and threatening to become a wildfire across her skin. Just as the orgasm threatened, he pulled back.
Frustration welled as he petted her sweetly, but not anywhere close to what she needed. “You’re a horrible man.”
He moved up the bed, sliding his body along hers. His fingers came out to play with her nipples again, but this time she welcomed the ache. “I am a kind Master. You have no idea the lengths I can go to.”
“With who? With the club subs?” Jealousy was another kind of ache. She hated the thought but she knew once she was gone, there would be any number of beautiful, sexy, younger women to take her place. They wouldn’t give him half the trouble she had. He wouldn’t have a problem finding a new submissive. They would likely form a line when they knew she wasn’t coming back.
“You’re jealous.” He touched her nose with his. “There’s no need to be. I wasn’t talking about my past. I was talking about all the dirty, nasty things I want to do to you. I’ve never had a submissive of my own. I serviced them when they needed a partner, but I never played with my own sub. I want to play for hours, Phoebe. I want you tied up and at my mercy. I want to hear you scream out my name because you can’t take a single second more of life without my cock inside you.”
He was touching her pussy again, starting the slow tease of her senses. He’d sensitized her, gotten her hot and wanting. Now he could take her right back to the edge with a stroke of his fingers. She felt the warm flush of arousal, felt him sink two fingers in and then draw them back out. He stared right at her as he licked her essence off.
“You taste better than any meal, any sweet, any liquor. You’re the best drug I ever had.”
How the hell was she supposed to fight that? Every good intention fell away. Every bit of reason she had melted under his warmth, his affection. He was the perfect blend of sweetness and dominance, guaranteed to break her down. “I’ll marry you.”
The light that hit his eyes was like the sun coming from behind years and years of clouds. “I love you, Phoebe. You won’t regret it.”
“You might. Take me. I’m begging you. Please, Jesse. I need you.”
He smiled, but there was that sweetly sadistic light in his eyes when he twisted her nipple. “Where do you want me, wife?”
Everywhere. In her life. In every second of every moment she had left. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He was playing and he wanted her dirty. She could give that to him. She wanted nothing more than to be his dirty, nasty, beloved girl. “In my ass. I want you in my ass. Only you.”