Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Mmhm,” I managed, struggling against the temptation to cant my hips and draw him deeper.
“Sophie, I asked you a question, and I expect a proper response.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.” My limbs trembled with the effort of staying still.
“I’m certain you are.” He plunged his finger deeper, hard. I gasped and squealed in surprise. “Speak when I ask you to. If I don’t, stay silent. These are easy enough rules to obey, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And you won’t come without my permission, will you?”
“Yes, Sir.” I swallowed. “Do I have your permission to come, Sir?”
“No.”
He went back to gently stroking my clit with his tongue and pressing hard on my g-spot. Keep still, keep quiet; he might say that was easy, but he knew my body like he’d written a Ph.D. thesis on how to make me come. He tickled the fingers of his unoccupied hand up the back of my thigh, and I clenched my teeth, trying to ignore the sensation.
I willed myself to relax and not react by reminding myself that I’d done this before and I could do it, again. Because he asked. Because he wanted me to. That’s why I could lay there motionless while he tried everything he could to make me squirm. It was a test—to see if I would obey him instead of the demands of my body.
I forced my shaky breaths to slow. A spiral of pure need tightened around my cunt, my clit, and before I could anticipate the end, I was almost there. “I’m close, Sir!”
He immediately stopped. “How close?”
Close enough that I want to grind on your hand and come before you can stop me. I pushed that thought from my head. I’d been trying so hard lately to be good. “Very close, Sir. Maybe…don’t move your hand. At all.”
“Let me know when you’ve recovered.” His voice lowered to steely concern. “And you will not come. Do you understand?”
It was a command, so I had to obey. The sharp edge of my desire dulled considerably. I waited a few more breaths to be certain, then shakily said, “I’m all right, now, Sir.”
“Good.” He slipped his hand away carefully. “Get on the bed. Hands and knees.”
I climbed up, grateful to be off my feet. I planted my palms shoulder-width apart and spread my knees just a little. There was no room for artistic interpretation, here. If he’d wanted me to arch my back, he would have told me. If I were supposed to lean on my elbows, he’d have said. As he hadn’t, I did only what he’d asked.
I heard his zipper open and the rustle of him removing his pants before the bed dipped behind me. I wanted to see him. I loved the way he looked holding his huge cock to guide it into me. I loved the hunger in his eyes the moment he entered me for the first time. He could never hide that, no matter how deeply into his role he’d fallen.
But he hadn’t given me permission to look at him.
I steeled myself at the first touch. Neil was so extremely well-endowed, I sometimes had a difficult time believing he actually fit inside me. There was always a possibility he would take me roughly right from the beginning, giving me no warning or time to prepare myself. Not that I needed a lot of preparation; I was so wet my thighs were slick. He pushed in, just past the head, and I moaned.
“Do you want this cock, Sophie?” he asked, pulling out and sliding in again, no farther than he had before.
“I do, Sir.” It took everything in me not to push back on him and take him as deep as I could.
“Then, beg for it.”
I took a shuddering breath, my pussy clenching involuntarily on him. He was so hard the fluttering contractions of my muscles around him almost bruised me. “Please, Sir. Please fuck me. Please let me have your cock.”
“How eager you are,” he teased. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”
“No, Sir.”
“And why aren’t you?”
My mind flashed back to the first night we’d spent together, our all-too-brief rendezvous that had fueled my fantasies for the six years after that we’d been apart. “Because you told me not to be, Sir.”
“Never be timid about your own pleasure. Don’t be ashamed to come.”
He twisted his hand in my hair and pulled my head back as he slid into me, all the way. So deep that it hurt, but so slow and gentle I never wanted it to end. And when we were joined, he slipped one hand under my chest to urge me up. I looped an arm around his neck to keep myself stable, and he turned his head to kiss me, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to stroke against mine.
Then, without warning, he reached up and jerked my hand away. He pushed me hard against the mattress, crushing me with his body. “Tell me what I’m going to do to you, Sophie.”