Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
His fingertips are a whisper across my flesh until I’m panting.
“What a pretty kitty, glistening like that for your owner.”
I think I squirt a little when he says he owns me. It’s so fucked up. But god yes. I want him to own me. I want to belong to him. For ever and ever. He’ll wrap me up in his bed each night and tuck me against him, and I’ll always be safe.
His hands move away from my clit, and I try not to whine. He’s still touching me, now massaging down the backs of my thighs.
“My kitty’s good breeding stock,” he says loudly, in a way that I know is for the crowd’s benefit. “She’s like a pony that way. Such a pretty ass and withers. Such a shiny tail.” He tugs on the tail connected to the plug in my ass and I clench on it. “Makes me want to ride. Would kitty like a ride?”
“Yes,” I say, remembering to breathe. I draw in a lungful of air.
He spanks me, not sparing the cane marks this time. I yelp even as he asks, louder, “I said, would kitty like a ride?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“That’s a good girl,” he says, hand moving back to strum my clit with the barest pressure as he bends over me from behind, his heavy horse cock again swinging between my legs and finding its mark.
I’m so wet that when he shifts his hips, the top of his cock slides easily through my outer vaginal lips, in maybe an inch. We both pause in surprise for a moment, neither of us expecting him to go that far. I immediately clench all my muscles around him, as if I can draw him in deeper with my inner muscles alone.
“Feck,” he whispers harshly in my ear. “Mads— Brooke. Fuck. I can’t believe I’m finally inside ya. You’re the woman of me dreams. Ya always were. Ya feel like fuckin’ heaven. I don’t deserve ya.”
I’m sure he’s going to push inside then and complete us like the puzzle pieces we were always meant to be.
“Yes,” I moan, so ready. “Domhn.”
But instead he drags himself out with a low, guttural grunt. Noooo. I want to cry out in despair at him denying us both like this.
“That’s Sir to you,” he says raggedly. “And don’t you dare come until I give you permission.”
Then his cock is replaced by his mouth.
Oh fuck, this isn’t fair. My hips spasm needily against his face. It’s his favorite form of torture. His stubble scrapes against my thighs as his head thrashes back and forth while he tongues my pussy.
I whimper as I fight the rising orgasm. He’s not teasing. He devours me like he’s a starving man. He latches on with his mouth and eats me out until I’m clenching everything so hard, I’m about to die.
“Please, Sir, may I come?” I moan.
His sweet tongue pulls away.
“No,” he says sharply.
I let out the breath I didn’t mean to hold. But he’s already got me at the edge, the pleasure he’s lit only barely dipping at the loss of contact. It’s so close. I can feel it. I’ll finally have him. He’ll finally be mine.
His hands squeeze my waist right at my hips and then his cock comes back, teasing my drenched pussy lips again. When he thrusts in, he goes in the same depth as before, a little deeper maybe. Torturing us both.
I’m sure he’s going to keep this up for the next hour, dangling me on the edge of the orgasm that’s already ready to flood over me like a tidal wave and then yanking back at the very last moment.
But then he groans in my ear, “I’m gonna die if I don’t have ya this second, love.”
Before I can quite get a grasp on what’s happening, he reaches over and tugs my hands away from where I’m gripping the bench. Then he’s spinning me and pulling me into his arms, chest to chest for what feels like the first time.
I throw my arms around him and kiss him recklessly. His mouth is just as hungry. I taste myself on his lips and it only makes me crazier for him.
He kisses me like I’m his air. He can’t get enough and neither can I.
He hefts me up, his strong, muscled arms locked under my thighs as he carries me to the nearest hard surface—a thick floor-to-ceiling smooth wooden beam at one of the four corners of the stage—and presses my back up against it.
I feel him there again, his cock stiff against my slick. I nod. “Yes. God, please fuck me, Sir.”
He’s still tentative as he pushes in. My head falls back against the beam at the feel of him finally, slowly filling me where I’ve been so empty. There’s no pain at all, where I expect it. Only pleasure. Pressure and delicious stretching where I’ve been so desperate for pressure.