Free Beg for It by Megan Hart Page A

a couple times before he stops, obviously remembering she’s told him not to move. “I want to taste you…”
    “I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”
    He laughs, breathless. “Yes, that too.”
    “Like this?” Her fingers curl, pressing, and she moves them in and out. His reply is a garbled mutter she has to take as affirmation. She laughs too, and the sound stutters out of her throat, also a little choked with emotion. “You are so fucking beautiful, Reese.”
    He’d argued with her the first few times she’d told him that, but he knows better, now. “Thank you, Ma’am.”
    Corinne lets her hand stroke up and over the head of his cock. “My good boy.”
    At the words, his cock throbs, and more precome oozes out of him. Her clit pulses, her hips rocking forward as she clenches internally. She’s so turned on that time seems to slow, everything surrounded in a glow.
    There is something she’s been thinking about for some time now but had not yet brought up to him. They’d fallen into this relationship without really talking about the things they both liked, finding their way together with one small reveal at a time. No whips, no chains, nothing that draws blood. Nothing like the things she’s read about in the few books she bought online, the ones that say you need contracts and safe words and aftercare. Their negotiations have been informal, a mutual give and take. They’re doing it wrong, according to anything she’s ever read, although everything they’ve ever done has only felt right.
    Withdrawing her touch, she moves up his body to straddle him. She lets her hands stroke down his arms to circle his wrists, bring them up next to his shoulders, an act he gives in to without resistance. She kisses his mouth.
    “Reese…”
    “Yeah?”
    “I want to fuck you,” Corinne whispers into his ear.
    He turns his head slightly so his lips brush her cheek. “Yes, please.”
    “I want to really fuck you.”
    He says nothing for a second. Neither of them move. His erection, trapped between her ass and his belly, pulses. She can slide down an inch or so and take him inside her. She’s so wet he will slip in without friction. But that isn’t what she wants, and she thinks he knows it.
    “…How?” he asks, finally.
    She presses her face to the side of his neck. She rocks a little on his dick, moving so her pussy enfolds him, though he is still not inside her. “I have something.”
    Corinne had bought her first vibrator at age twenty-one from the back room in the cheesy adult video store that featured LIVE GIRLS DANCING (which, she presumed, was way better than dead ones). She’d worn her share of sexy lingerie. She’d even gone to a couple of those home “toy” parties hosted by her giggling friends who’d shrieked and covered their faces at the sight of anything remotely off-center. Even so, nothing had prepared her for the wealth of choices. She’d gone online to look for what she wanted, and finally found it after wading through pages of reviews and descriptions that had by turns thrilled and confused her. Her purchase had arrived in a discreet brown package, bigger than she’d thought it would be. She’d tried it on a few times, feeling ridiculous. Will I feel silly in front of him , she thinks suddenly, knowing this desperate desire inside her is going to urge her toward taking the chance of looking foolish.
    This thing she wants, this thing she’s been dreaming about for a long time even before she knew it was actually possible…if she can’t ask it of Reese, she can’t imagine who she’ll ever be able to ask it of.
    His hand strokes down the back of her hair. “What kind of something?”
    She pushes upward to look at his face. “I can show you.”
    Most of the time she can read Reese’s face as easily as though he has a ticker tape describing his thoughts scrolling over his forehead. Not right now. His gaze has gone shuttered, expression beyond neutral. Blank.
    Then his brow furrows.