It bounded free, and at the sight of it she had to suck the insides of her mouth between her molars and bite hard to beat back everything that exposing his beauty made her feel.
It didn’t get better when she worked the waistband under his balls, the elastic cradling them against the root of his shaft.
She could sketch that. She’d give it an entire page. Then she’d do something she never did—rip it out and frame it so she could look at it whenever she pleased.
He was that gorgeous.
“Glistening, Simone,” he whispered, “every inch. Once you have me as I wish, hold my cock in your mouth and do not move.”
It was close to the order she’d given Jennifer at his pool party, and having her own command turned on her turned her on.
Or considering her current state, turned her on a whole lot more.
Willing herself to withstand this for him, Sixx rested her hands on his thighs and bent in, tongue out, and did as she was commanded. She licked him to wet every inch. The taste of him, the musk of him, the feel of his steel under the soft skin of his cock, the vulnerability of his sac, just the fact he was formed perfectly, it was torture, and the pads of her fingers were convulsively contracting and releasing in his flesh as the world narrowed to his dick and balls and her cunt and clit.
His voice had grown thick when he ordered, “Now slide me inside, take me as deep as you can, and hold.”
Okay, yes.
This might kill her.
She slid him inside and held.
Having that beautiful cock held deep in her mouth was a fabulous agony.
God, she was going to come.
Just holding him in her mouth, she was going to come.
She felt her entire body tremble.
Fuck, she was going to come.
She gripped his thighs so hard she fancied she could feel each sinew of his muscles under her fingertips, and that didn’t help a thing.
She was going to explode.
She was going to let him down.
She was going to come apart.
She felt him trail a finger from the layered hair at the nape of her neck down that helpless line to the knot at the top of her spine.
And at his touch, she entered the zone.
Her mind cleared.
She was his.
She was owned.
She was slave to Stellan.
She was serving and she’d done wrong, so she was being punished.
She felt the ache and pulse between her legs, the throb at her clit, and they were elegant in the pain they caused of her need to release. Every inch, every centimeter of his cock she held in her mouth was a gift. Serving him was her purpose.
It was what she was born to do.
And she was not allowed to come.
So she would not.
Until he told her to.
Her fingers stopped convulsing and just gripped him tight as she held strong and did as Stellan bid her to do.
“That’s it, darling,” he murmured tenderly, having felt it, felt her give over, felt her settle into service, that good of a Dom, that attuned to Sixx, he didn’t miss it for a moment. Drifting his finger back up and caressing the nape of her neck, he continued, “Now suck.”
She sucked, madly, wildly, like working his cock was her only reason for being.
His finger left her nape so all of them could sift into her hair. They tightened and pulled, and she knew to bob.
“Yes,” he growled, and she felt his body tauten all around her.
She blew him, sucking hard, slipping him in and out fast, digging her nails into the flesh of his thighs.
He pulled her off of him using her hair, and in a rough voice commanded, “Up.”
She surged to her feet.
He instantly slid the vibrator out from inside her, tossed it on the towel, then grasped behind her thighs, hauling her toward him.
She moved into the seat, her knees at his sides, her head tipped down, looking him in his eyes as his body slid lower in the chair. He used his hands to position her. She felt the thick, slick head of his cock shifting the lace aside, he jerked her down on him, filling her, and her head shot back.
Glory.
Hallelujah.
“Watch your Master as you serve him,” he growled.
She immediately bent her head forward, and his open palm landed on her ass.
Fucking fabulous.
“Move,” he demanded.
She moved.
“Fast, Simone, grip me, milk your Master,” he ordered throatily.
She went faster, constricting around him, watching his dark face get darker, satisfaction and domination filling his features, making them so handsome she could have wept at the honor of witnessing the sight as he wrapped his fingers around her buttocks. Digging in. Using her flesh to pull her down, up, down, crashing her into him.
She started panting.
“Open the lace, expose your breasts to me,” he grunted.
She moved her hands instantly to do as told.
“Hold them on offer to me.”
She did that too, rounding them at the bottoms, holding her breasts in her hands, still driving down on his dick.
A magnificent sneer hit his face that pounded between her legs as sure as his cock was doing. “Who are you?”
She didn’t even think.
Sixx was gone. Sixx had never even existed.
It was all her now.
Simone.
Simone Marchesa.
The woman who belonged to Stellan Lange.
“I’m Simone,” she breathed.
“Who owns you?”
“You do,” she gasped.
“Rub your thumbs over your nipples.”
She did and moaned, having to fight tipping her head back at the same time holding on to her orgasm, determined not to let go.
Saving herself …
For him.
Serving herself …
To him.
“Who’s your Master?” he asked.
She stared into his eyes. “You are, baby.”
“Say it,” he whispered.
God.
His fingers dug into her ass.
“Say it, Simone,” he pushed.
She moved faster on him, arcing her back but keeping her head tilted so she held his eyes.
But she didn’t say it.
“You’ll give that to me,” he told her.
She kept riding him.
His hands left her ass, moved up her back, clenched in her hair, and he dragged her head to his. Their foreheads colliding, she watched from close as his eyes flashed, then closed as a heavy breath escaped his lips, fanning over hers, and she felt his body tense and strain under her.
“Hold,” he grunted.
She stopped, full of him, as he climaxed under her.
She did it.
She made it.
She gave him what he wanted.
She felt like shouting her triumph, and the need to orgasm had never been so huge.
But she held on, squeezed his cock with the walls of her pussy, and took in his soft sigh as she did.
Slowly, his grip on her hair loosened, his eyes opened and looked into hers.
They were languid … beautiful.
His breath was evening.
She was still panting.
“You’ve done well, darling,” he murmured.
Thank God.
“I’m glad, baby,” she whispered.
“Clean you up, eat you out, then when you’re ready, set about giving you your reward.”
Oh hell.
He was talented at giving head, and she knew being “ready” was not getting a reward after getting an orgasm.
“Go upstairs, wash me from you,” he ordered. “When I join you, I want you on our bed on your knees with them spread wide, facing the headboard. I want you riding my face.”
Shit.
Just the visual that brought to mind took her right back to quivering.
“Okay, Stellan,” she muttered.
His hands slid down to her neck, and one over the other, squeezed.
“You’ll give it to me,” he told her quietly.
She knew what he meant.
Declaring him her Master.
And she wanted to.
But she wasn’t sure she could do it.
“When you believe,” he whispered.
That was just it.
She’d never believe.
She swallowed.
He didn’t push it further.
“Slide me out, darling. And go do as I say.”
She nodded. She slid him out, moved off of him, and on unsteady legs, the ache between hers, the heaviness in her breasts, the intense sensation at her nipples, the sensitivity of her skin had been downshifted significantly, but they were nowhere near gone.
She started to move around his chair but stopped when he hooked her with an arm along her belly.
She looked down at him.
“I took you there. I took you there with just a touch, and you know what that means,” he said gently.
Sixx stared at him, beginning to tremble for a different reason.