Chapter 38 #2
I rise on my knees a little, feeling his cock retreat.
He chases my pussy with a series of rapid, hard thrusts that have me bouncing on his lap. “How does that feel?” He repeats the motion three times, then freezes like he’s demanding a response from me without speaking.
If I answer with words, I’ll break my cursing rule. Plus, I can’t imagine any words in existence that could describe a sensation this perfect. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear we were born to be together. It isn’t only my heart and soul he completes, but every other part of me.
Instead of a bumbling, inept response, I kiss him and start moving my hips, drawing him in and out at my own pace.
My movements are slower and softer than his frantic claiming while I get accustomed to the position.
I’ve never done this on a couch before, so I’m clumsy at first. But what I lack in experience, I make up for with eagerness.
And that’s the lie I’ll be telling myself.
Soon enough, Reed takes over.
Although I’m the one on top, he sets the pace and depth of his strokes.
His strong hands settle on my waist, moving my hips at the rhythm he chooses.
He kisses me when he wants to kiss me and teases my nipples when and how he wants.
Despite how we’ve only been intimate a few times, he instinctively knows exactly how to please me.
It would be so easy to give in and let him continue dominating me. After all, he’s clearly comfortable calling the shots. I love what he’s doing to me, but there’s something niggling at me about this.
I’m not complaining. Not even close.
I adore this side of him. And if I want him to do something differently, all I need to do is ask nicely. He loves it when I beg. Surprisingly, I also enjoy it. Relinquishing my body to him has a freeing effect.
But I don’t feel like begging this time.
Nor do I feel like following his lead.
And I don’t have the foggiest idea why.
With the next kiss, our tongues duel for dominance. Each time I win a battle, he whimpers into my mouth.
The heady sound sets off something inside me, forcing my desire for control to the surface.
Once or twice, I attempt to resist the pace he’s set with his pistoning hips before returning to his speed.
Testing his reaction further, I lengthen the time between thrusts so I can relish the fullness of him deep inside me.
At first, he doesn’t comply with my unspoken demands.
I sense his hesitation as he tries to reassert his will. It doesn’t deter me.
Sweet submissive Lila has left the chat.
Soon, he stops fighting and cedes to me. Each time I bottom out, he waits for me to lift before helping finish the movement with his hands or hips. Those little victories heighten my urge for his submission.
Hot, hot, hot.
The way he kisses me changes as well. He’s tentatively handing me the reins to see if I really want to take them.
Each time I do, he melts for me.
His shoulders soften. His neck loosens. His breathing changes, and he gets more vocal. Not with words, but with heavenly sounds of surrender. Gasps, mewls, and more of those needy whimpers.
I’m in a new world of utter ecstasy with no clue how I got here.
I’ve felt powerless for ages. That’s long gone now. My body is demanding every last bit of control.
And he’s finally giving it to me.
The firmness of my touch hardens as I run my hands over his defined chest and shoulders, which are unfortunately covered.
“Take your shirt off. Now,” I order him in a tone I’ve never used before. It’s all kinds of commanding and sultry, sounding foreign to my own ears.
With his eyes bulging, Reed responds instantly, a hint of shock braided in his two-word reply. “Yes, ma’am.”
After he’s rid of the offending garment, I clamp my hands on his shoulders and roll my hips in a figure eight.
“Fucking hell, cookie,” he grits out, clearly enjoying that move.
I loosen my grip on his shoulder, allowing my hands to roam freely.
His skin is heavenly under my touch. When I skim my fingertips along his stomach, I almost come on the spot.
His rock-hard abs pulse and contract under his silky smooth flesh.
It feels divine. I bet it looks even better. Let’s test that theory.
Halting my hips, I shift my body to the side. “Lie down with your head over there.” I point with my chin toward the armrest.
This headstrong man doesn’t object in the slightest.
We adjust our bodies, moving in unison like we’ve done it a hundred times. I lift one leg so he can shift his thigh. Then he scoots back, so I can inch forward. It’s a flawless dance.
Our position change is so effortless and fast that it makes me wonder if I’m dreaming. That would explain the bizarre way I’ve reversed our dynamic. Dream Lila is a wannabe Dominatrix.
Blinking out of my head, I study his fully nude, stunning body. Exactly as I wanted him, he’s sprawled out over the length of the couch, completely at my mercy.
Straddling him in this new position, I run my greedy hands over his entire torso. His chest constricts and expands with a slight quiver under my touch.
He’s not even inside me, and he’s freaking trembling for me.
What is this magical power? How can I harness it for later use?
On my next pass of his chest, I brush over his nipples just to watch them stiffen. My tongue twitches, and my teeth grind as I pluck the little buds between my fingertips. His breathing accelerates like he’s running a race.
Leaning down, I do something I’ve never considered doing—I bite one of his nipples. Not hard enough to break the skin. Just enough to sate my greedy curiosity.
Reed hisses and grabs the sides of my head. I brace for him to pull me away from his chest, but he doesn’t. He does the opposite.
He gingerly guides my head to his other nipple. “Please do that again,” he begs breathily.
Actually begs.
His tone positively drips with neediness.
For me.
As if to prove this isn’t all in my head, I tip my face up to look at him. His expression looks as equally enthralled as his voice sounds. With heavy-lidded eyes, an open mouth, and a dancing tongue, he’s a striking vision.
Without breaking eye contact, I lick my lips seductively, then dip my tongue down to circle his nipple. An actual shiver runs through him.
Eager for more of his reaction, I daintily take his nipple between my teeth. Holding it there with the slightest pressure, I flick my tongue over it subtly. When I start fluttering the tight bud faster, it pulls a groan out of him that I feel rumble in his chest.
When I’ve drawn this out as long as I can stand, I bite down. His reaction doesn’t disappoint.
His eyes slam shut, and his head tips backward. “Fuuuuck,” he utters, completely awash in ecstasy.
After catching his breath, he peeks at me through one eye. “What the hell are you doing to me?”
“Anything I want,” I respond with only a wisp of a question lacing my tone.
He throws my earlier words back at me. “Who am I to deny you?”
Grinning, I kiss his chest and encircle his nipple with my tongue, careful not to touch it. “Don’t act like I’m doing you a favor.” Another kiss and lick around the other nipple. “I see how much you like this.”
His throbbing cock pulses under me. My needy boy.
I grind down on him, dragging my slippery folds over the ridge of his cock to tease my clit. “And I feel how much you like it,” I simper.
After kissing him right over his heart, I channel a sex kitten. “In fact, I think you love the way I’m playing with you. You like me controlling you, don’t you?”
He doesn’t respond, other than to fling his arms over his head, voluntarily putting himself totally at my mercy.
I reward his submission with another bite of his nipple, then a gentle swirl of my tongue to soothe the ache.
He shudders under me. “God damn, cookie.”
A frisson of lust spikes through me, along with some unexpected pride.
Because I’m doing this to him. Me.
I’m making this man a needy, compliant mess. This confident, composed stallion of a man is responding to my orders like I usually do to his.
The way he enjoys making me beg makes so much sense now.
This intoxicating feeling of holding power over him goes straight to my clit, making it tingle. My empty pussy clenches around nothing.
That’s it.
I need him back inside me before I bring myself to tears.
His eyes spring open when I lift off him enough to position his cock. Two fathomless pools of rich cocoa desire lock on me, tracking my every move with breathless anticipation. And when I finally envelop his rigid shaft inside me, he slams his eyes shut again.
“Is this what you wanted, Reed?” I taunt, rolling my hips at an agonizingly languid pace.
“Yes, cookie. I want your perfect pussy squeezing my cock.”
I brace myself with both palms on his chest, right over the vigorous pounding of his heart.
And then I ride the hell out of him.
Fast. Hard. Slow. Soft. Deep. Shallow.
I ride him however I want, changing the pace or angle as it suits me. All the while, I study his every reaction down to the slightest detail. The tension in his face. The pace of his breathing. The pitch of his moans. The tightness of his jaw.
If he seems to really like something, I might do it more or stop, then return a few seconds later. It’s my choice. Because in this moment, he’s mine to please.
And he eats it up like a starving man. The only time he takes his eyes off me is when he’s too overcome with pleasure to keep them open.
I’ve never felt sexier or stronger.
Unfortunately, bringing him to the edge and tugging him back this way has me so amped up that I can barely keep my climax at bay. And he’s so wrecked that I know if I come, he will too. I want this to last longer, but I’m losing the fight.
Screw it. Why hold back when it feels this good?
My hips thrash with my frenzied movements, causing a smacking sound to fill the room. It blends melodically with our moans and panting breaths.
He bucks upward in concert with my movements, accentuating our lovemaking without taking over. Thick cords bulge on both sides of his throat as he struggles to hold off his release. He caresses my hips and the tops of my thighs, devouring me with his touch.
I love watching him unravel.
My pace becomes frantic. I’m nothing but raw need and carnal desire, hellbent on chasing our pleasure.
As I feel the quickening deep inside my core, I grab both his hands off my hips. As I fold myself over him, I thrust his hands over his head to pin them down. With him exactly how I want him—at my mercy—I join our mouths and slip my tongue past his lips.
When he finally comes for me, I plan to drink down his sexy little whimpers.
Faster and rougher, I grind on his pulsing cock. My rhythm is punishing, and he matches my fervor with each stroke. I take him as deep as I can, wishing I could keep him inside me forever.
As the coil of pleasure finally springs free, every muscle in my body contracts. From the tips of my fingers to the deepest part of me, I seize and pulse in ecstasy.
Reed’s grunts and moans are music to my ears. He quivers under me, his own release bursting free as I continue writhing, soaking up everything he has to give.
I wish I could find the words to praise him the way he does me, but I’m too gone with my own rapture as the aftershocks work their way through my body.
Once we’re both spent, I release his arms and still my hips. I rest my cheek on his chest, placing my ear over the drumbeat of his heart.
My heart.
Reed surrounds me with those massive arms, making me feel small, despite knowing I’m not. And for the first time, that thought doesn’t bother me so much.
I finally realize it’s possible that Reed loves me, whether I’m fat or thin. Dominant or submissive. Sweet or sassy.
He loves me. The whole person, broken parts and all.
And wildly, he still loves me even after I confessed to what Silas made me do.
Ugh. Why did I have to think about that vile man?
His name metaphorically turns on a vacuum inside my chest, sucking all my serenity away.
Reality bites.
Not only do I have to face Silas again, but I’ll have to do it while wearing a wire. If he finds it on me or suspects I’m working with the FBI, will I end up like that murder victim that makes Reed’s eyes glaze over?
If there ever was a time to channel that barnacle goose, this is it.