Free Going Too Far (The Curvy Submissive) by Jordan Bell Page B

eyes always turned up to me, nostrils flaring.
The candlelight caught their green glimmer, sweet and giving and trusting. I
didn’t know if I deserved it, but I cherished it and with that trust went the
last of my resolution.
    “ Katrina .” With a throated moan I squeezed my eyes, wrenched
her closer, and plunged into her wet mouth, all the way in, unrestrained until
I hit her throat and kept pushing.
    She made some throated noise, a protest or a moan I couldn’t
tell. Her mouth suctioned around me, lapped across the underside as dams burst.
I threw my head back and flooded her mouth.
    Obediently she swallowed and sucked until the pressure of
her mouth was too much. Until her touch was too much. Until I was shaking and
half sobbing her name.
    Katrina. Katrina. Katrina. I stroked her face, her
hair, brushed my thumbs against her lips and wanted her again. Now. Again.
Again. Again.
    Mine.
    Sliding out of her mouth left an agonizing ache behind. I
wanted nothing more than to find my way back inside her, but the tremendous
sensation of her nearness was enough to send me over the edge again. I had to
slow down. I had to get some distance, some control.
    God, we were so doomed.
    Her lips looked shiny in the low light, a touch swollen. I
closed my eyes and placed both hands on the wall above her head and held myself
there for a long time. The quivering in my thighs subsided, leaving the muscles
tired and satisfied. When I thought I could handle the sight of my beautiful
girl waiting on her knees for evidence of my approval, I finally turned my eyes
down on her.
    She watched me from behind her mask, eager but too nervous
to smile. Her cheeks glowed in the candlelight. She bit her bottom lip.
    I smiled.
    Kat’s body released its tension, its anxiety, and the hint
of her smile gave way to a full bloom of pleasure.
    “Good girl.” I dropped my hand to cup her cheek and stroke
the messy strands from her face. “My beautiful pet.”
    She breathed a sigh of relief, as if the possibility that
she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, please me was ever in question. I zipped myself back
up and sighed, then I reached down to collect her.
    She reached for me, captured her arms around my neck, and
for that moment as I held her, I considered kissing her. I wanted to kiss her,
badly, but that was one more line I couldn’t cross. They all seemed impossible
to cross, too many rules we were forbidden from breaking, but this one…
    Tomorrow she’d be waiting tables in my bar and we’d have to
look at each other and she’d have to give me her drink orders and expect me to
hand them to her and we couldn’t have the pressure of a kiss lingering between
us.
    I knew I was being thick headed and obstinate. I knew if not
a kiss, then the oral sex I’d just engaged her in. Which was worse? I didn’t
know, but I knew a kiss meant more. Or it should.
    If I kissed Kat now, I would never be able to stop.
    I nudged my knee between her legs and urged her back towards
the bed. She stumbled, but complied. I could feel her hot little pants of
anticipation puffing through my shirt. I smiled, bent down, and scooped her up.
    “Josh! No! I’m too much!” She squealed and fought me, but I
won and deftly deposited her on top of the lush comforter.
    “It’ll be a cold day in hell, Katrina, when you are too much
for me.”
    I climbed onto the bed after her, moved swiftly between her
legs and settled between her knees. She arched her lovely body, her large
breasts straining against her dress. Her weight had always been an issue for
her, something she blamed when relationships went bad or boys looked past her
on the dance floor. Right now, the extra curves, her gorgeous shape made me
want to touch more of her, not less. I wondered what her softness would
feel like giving way beneath my body.
    Her excitement reach feverish as I reached on either side of
the bed for the leather cuffs I’d helped the hostess attach earlier that night.
They were tethered to the bed by