His cock drove into her, deep, heavy strokes that that her head thrashing, chest lifting, nails clawing at the leather.
“Yes, oh yes,” Lulu whispered. “This is the most amazing sex, the best sex I’ve ever had.”
The thrusts paused, then resumed at a slower pace.
“What’s between us is more than just sex.” He sounded angry.
Lulu opened her eyes in time to watch him pull back, his cock slipping from her. “Wait, please.”
He shook his head as he got to his feet.
Panic rolled in Lulu’s belly. She’d said something wrong—sex. He hadn’t liked when she’d called it sex.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Cold air washed over her wet pussy and inner thighs. Alton was looking down at her splayed body. “Tell me what I did wrong.”
At her near panic Alton’s face softened. He drew her up, onto her feet. “You did nothing wrong.” He pinched her chin so she would look at him. “You can do nothing wrong, I won’t allow it. If you start to do anything dangerous or displeasing I will correct you. Trust that.”
His free hand stroked her as if to soothe, but she was too sensitive, too aroused. She wanted more. When his fingers dipped between her legs she spread them, eagerly opening herself to his touch.
He said something, again in the quiet tone, and with her attention on his fingers working her pussy she didn’t hear him.
“I’m sorry?”
He shook his head. Removing his fingers, he hooked her by the wrist cuffs, leading her away from the chair and the ottoman. Maybe he was taking her to his bedroom.
He took her to the X.
Alton drew Lulu up to the crux decussata , the St. Andrew’s Cross. He’d had it custom built, and it was the centerpiece of his BDSM room. It was upright in a nearly vertical position, the straps neatly buckled in place across the padded, leather-covered crosspieces.
He’d lost control of the situation. It could not happen. Would not happen. She had to go on to the St. Andrew’s Cross, where his control would be absolute. It was the only way.
He hadn’t been able to help himself when she’d looked up at him, her big blue eyes swimming with submission. She was in sub-space. He’d seen that look in a hundred women’s eyes, but he’d never seen sub-space combined with the bright flame of desire—for him.
He wanted to taste that submissive fire, feel it against him, and so he’d done nothing as she took the initiative, climbing astride him, kissing him. He’d freed her hands, hoping she’d touch him.
He never ordered women to touch him.
That was why he hadn’t had sex in over a year.
Lulu resisted as he positioned her with her back against the cross. “Please. I’m scared.”
Her words only excited him further. Alton was only too aware of his cock standing tall against his belly, ready to spill, his pants still open. It had taken every ounce of control he had not to come at the first touch of her hot, tight pussy.
“Trust me. Lean back.”
“But, why can’t we…” She looked behind him, toward the place where they’d fucked. “I’m sorry, whatever I said.”
Alton cupped her face. “This is not punishment.”
Her brow was furrowed in doubt.
“You question me, and you should not. You are mine, to do with as I please.” He spoke harshly, leaning into her, asserting both physical and emotional dominance. She shivered and lowered her eyes—a submissive’s acceptance.
“Yes, Master.”
It was the first time she’d used the word in a while. A sign that the control was returning to him. He knew why she was upset. She wanted him to fuck her, as much as he wanted to fuck her, but giving in for that moment of pleasure would not serve them well in the end. He needed to be strong, to show her what submission to him could give. It was far more than a good spanking and a quick fuck.
He had to ensure she did not feel he was punishing her by changing the scene, but at the same time show her that as her Master he would have
“Yes, oh yes,” Lulu whispered. “This is the most amazing sex, the best sex I’ve ever had.”
The thrusts paused, then resumed at a slower pace.
“What’s between us is more than just sex.” He sounded angry.
Lulu opened her eyes in time to watch him pull back, his cock slipping from her. “Wait, please.”
He shook his head as he got to his feet.
Panic rolled in Lulu’s belly. She’d said something wrong—sex. He hadn’t liked when she’d called it sex.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Cold air washed over her wet pussy and inner thighs. Alton was looking down at her splayed body. “Tell me what I did wrong.”
At her near panic Alton’s face softened. He drew her up, onto her feet. “You did nothing wrong.” He pinched her chin so she would look at him. “You can do nothing wrong, I won’t allow it. If you start to do anything dangerous or displeasing I will correct you. Trust that.”
His free hand stroked her as if to soothe, but she was too sensitive, too aroused. She wanted more. When his fingers dipped between her legs she spread them, eagerly opening herself to his touch.
He said something, again in the quiet tone, and with her attention on his fingers working her pussy she didn’t hear him.
“I’m sorry?”
He shook his head. Removing his fingers, he hooked her by the wrist cuffs, leading her away from the chair and the ottoman. Maybe he was taking her to his bedroom.
He took her to the X.
Alton drew Lulu up to the crux decussata , the St. Andrew’s Cross. He’d had it custom built, and it was the centerpiece of his BDSM room. It was upright in a nearly vertical position, the straps neatly buckled in place across the padded, leather-covered crosspieces.
He’d lost control of the situation. It could not happen. Would not happen. She had to go on to the St. Andrew’s Cross, where his control would be absolute. It was the only way.
He hadn’t been able to help himself when she’d looked up at him, her big blue eyes swimming with submission. She was in sub-space. He’d seen that look in a hundred women’s eyes, but he’d never seen sub-space combined with the bright flame of desire—for him.
He wanted to taste that submissive fire, feel it against him, and so he’d done nothing as she took the initiative, climbing astride him, kissing him. He’d freed her hands, hoping she’d touch him.
He never ordered women to touch him.
That was why he hadn’t had sex in over a year.
Lulu resisted as he positioned her with her back against the cross. “Please. I’m scared.”
Her words only excited him further. Alton was only too aware of his cock standing tall against his belly, ready to spill, his pants still open. It had taken every ounce of control he had not to come at the first touch of her hot, tight pussy.
“Trust me. Lean back.”
“But, why can’t we…” She looked behind him, toward the place where they’d fucked. “I’m sorry, whatever I said.”
Alton cupped her face. “This is not punishment.”
Her brow was furrowed in doubt.
“You question me, and you should not. You are mine, to do with as I please.” He spoke harshly, leaning into her, asserting both physical and emotional dominance. She shivered and lowered her eyes—a submissive’s acceptance.
“Yes, Master.”
It was the first time she’d used the word in a while. A sign that the control was returning to him. He knew why she was upset. She wanted him to fuck her, as much as he wanted to fuck her, but giving in for that moment of pleasure would not serve them well in the end. He needed to be strong, to show her what submission to him could give. It was far more than a good spanking and a quick fuck.
He had to ensure she did not feel he was punishing her by changing the scene, but at the same time show her that as her Master he would have