Free Controlling Krysta by Lyla Sinclair Page B

handed?”
    “Right.”
    He grabbed my left wrist and flipped my hand, palm up. Lube soon covered my fingertips. He pulled my fingers down to my pelvis.
    “Touch yourself like you do when you’re alone.”
    I slipped a digit between my pussy lips. After feeling orgasm-deprived for so long, it was wonderful to finally be allowed to do something.
    I began caressing my clit. Mason matched my movements, but his finger was between my ass cheeks. Hot messages zinged between my pussy and ass.
    I thrust and wiggled my hips, wanting him to do more. I spread the goo around thoroughly inside my slit. He broke through into my ass.
    I cried out at the intense, aching need coursing through my body. I wished he’d let me use my right hand to touch myself. I could have come already. My left couldn’t quite get the right rhythm.
    The nerves in my ass communicated easily with those in my clit, each intensifying the experience for the other. I pressed harder.
    “Now stop moving your finger.”
    Damn him! Hadn’t I suffered enough? I desperately needed to come.
    Yet, I obeyed.
    His slick, glove-encased finger slipped farther into my ass. In such a strange position, it would have felt like I was getting a medical exam, except for the fact that my “doctor”
    was Mason.
    He pulled out slightly, then pushed in a little farther than before.
    This was so confusing, since a part of me wanted him to keep going while another part was aware that this foreign object didn’t belong there.
    He thrust in again, and this time there was an electrical twinge in my ass, like the ones I got when I touched my clit.
    “Ahh…” I moaned.
    “Do you like this, Krysta?”
    “Yes,” I murmured.
    “Yes who?”
    “Yes, Mr. Maddox.”
    He rewarded me by thrusting his thumb into my pussy while his finger plunged into my ass again.
    I cried out. My hips and lower back left the bed completely. Every muscle in my body tensed and the first flash of an impending orgasm shot through me.
    He removed his hand and the feeling disappeared.
    I couldn’t believe he could be so cruel to me.
    As he got up from the bed, my sexual frustration turned into anger.
    I sat up and ripped off my blindfold in time to see him remove his glove and drop it into a plastic-lined trash can by the bed.
    I opened my mouth to speak, but for once, words escaped me.
    I couldn’t decide what I wanted to say to him first. What a heartless bastard he was for not letting me come? How sorry I was that I’d ruined a beautiful thing between us by signing that contract? How much I wanted him to take off his clothes and treat me to real skin contact?
    He unzipped his jeans. I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, we would do something normal together.
    He put on a condom. As a symbol of intimacy, I would have preferred not to have it. I knew we didn’t need it, but condom sex was the norm, so that wasn’t so bad.
    I lay down on the bed, hoping he would climb aboard and do what came naturally.
    Instead, he kept his clothes on and straddled me, moving up until his pelvis was at my face.
    He pressed his cock to my lips.
    “Open your mouth,” he said.
    I glared at him angrily. I didn’t want some condom in my mouth. I wanted his skin against mine. I knew this was more of him showing me how I’d lost his trust.
    “Open your mouth.”
    Enraged, I used all my strength to push him. He tilted off the bed, managed to catch himself on the coffee table, and stood, unharmed.
    I sprang off the bed, planting my feet on the wood floor.
    “I wanted to believe there was hope for you, Mason!” I yelled. “I let your brother convince me you were just coming off some awful times and that you cared about me.”
    I glanced over at the dresser, wishing I had my clothes on for this.
    Mason didn’t say anything. He pulled off the condom and zipped his pants as though he were expecting this.
    “But you’re damaged and cruel. The contract is an excuse. You know your brother loves you.”
    His eyes left mine and I