Chapter 12 #3
How could he laugh even while he was using his tongue in such a way?
When he started pulling on both the anal plug and the dildo, she came again, even harder.
Drake watched the little submissive go limp after her second orgasm. Perfectly delightful. “Over you go now, bébé.”
After removing Bilbo, he rolled her over, onto hands and knees, then positioned her so her knees were near the side of the bed. Yes, this was a perfectly usable height.
Her creamy-white ass cheeks almost glowed in the dim light of the room, and he took a moment to massage them.
Her whimper broke off into a whispered, “Yes, yes.” Trying so hard to obey.
She tugged on his heart in a way he hadn’t felt before. Bending, he pressed light kisses from her neck down her spine.
And reached around to fondle her breasts. Time for the clamps to go. Gently, he removed one, then the other, and the evil side of his dominance savored her squeaks as circulation was restored to the abused nipples.
She was trying to lean on her shoulder to free her hands—but his hands were there first. He ruthlessly massaged her tender breasts.
More squeaks sounded before she remembered and hissed a “Yessss.” He could almost hear the added, “You bastard,” she had enough control to keep from saying.
“You are being a very good girl.” She couldn’t see his grin, but from the tiny growl she gave, she probably heard it in his voice.
He hadn’t had so much fun in years.
And it was time to provoke some more squeaks and growls. Opening his jeans, he released his rigid, increasingly demanding cock and rolled on a condom.
On his phone, he tapped the anal plug remote app and set it to a pattern of building and declining intensity.
As the buzzing started and ramped up, she barely managed to change her yelp to a yes. Her hips wiggled as if giving him a target, or so his cock apparently thought.
He picked up the small wand from the toy lineup at the head of the bed and set it beside her right knee.
After sliding his shaft along her pussy, he set himself at the threshold and entered her without stopping, slow enough she could accommodate his size.
She was hot, her cunt giving tiny convulsions around him as she inhaled sharply, her head tipping up.
With the anal plug in her, she was very tight—and the vibrations through the thin membrane added to his pleasure.
Sheathed completely, he kneaded her ass cheeks. “Still green, Aralia?”
He could see her shoulders rise and fall with her fast breathing. After a moment, she nodded, then laughed. “Yes.”
He grinned at her quirky sense of humor, pulled almost out, and filled her again. Out, in, adding a circular motion now and then for fun. She’d come twice already. One more.
As he moved into deep driving thrusts, he picked up the wand, flicked it on. Reaching around her, he set the big head a few inches above her clit.
She let out a keening cry, her muscles going rigid. And within a few more thrusts, she was coming. He let her recover for a moment, slowing his thrusts also.
And then speeded up and applied the wand on one side, then the other, of her clit. She came again, wailing loudly. Well, he wouldn’t punish her this time.
There was nothing like the feeling of a woman’s cunt convulsing around a rigid dick.
One last time with the wand directly on top.
Oh, oh, oh. Every nerve in Ray’s body seemed to be focused in one place.
And she was coming again, pleasure raging through her—again!
It didn’t stop, and it was too much. She could hear the pleas coming from her.
Could hear the satisfaction in his voice.
“Take a little more, for me.” And her back arched as another wave ran through her, a feeling like she’d never felt before,
“There, you should sleep well tonight, bébé,” he murmured. The torturous, horrible, wonderful wand was gone, and she was slumping.
His hands gripped her hips hard, still thick and hot inside her. As he set up a driving rhythm, her insides kept spasming in tiny explosions of pleasure around him.
His hands tightened as he sheathed himself even deeper inside her and held there with a low growling, “mmmph,” of satisfaction.
Everything inside her echoed that satisfaction.
She’d given herself into his care, and he pushed her past what she thought she could take, pushed her into pure sensual torture, forced pleasure on her. Forced her to come.
There was nothing she could say to express the pure contentment and the happiness welling inside her.
Smiling, he gripped her hips firmly. His dick was swollen and hard, pulsing with brutal need as he released his control.
And then, the pleasure was exploding inside him, sizzling from his spine, through his balls, and out his shaft.
As he jerked with the last few tremors inside her, he heard the happiness in her whisper. “Yes, yes, yes.”
The next morning, Drake felt alive and…happy. Yes, that was the word. Happier than he’d felt in a long time. He knew why, of course.
The reason was the adorable woman who was now trudging into the kitchen in a fluffy bathrobe. Despite a shower that left her hair wet, she still didn’t appear fully awake.
Her lips were still swollen from his kisses and… The memory of the magnificent blowjob caused his dick to thicken, despite all its work last night. It was a wonder he wasn’t raw.
He wasn’t the only one, considering how gingerly Ray was moving.
A fine night indeed.
“Good morning, ma chérie.” He pulled her against him, all soft woman enclosed in fluffy fabric. No slinky silk for this one, and he liked her all the better for it. Washington was cool in the mornings, and she obviously preferred comfort over looking sexy.
“Morning.”
Smiling, he bent to kiss her. “I made coffee.”
“You’re my hero…although waking a person up in the middle of the night might mean you’re really a villain.” Her voice was husky, partly from sleep, possibly a bit strained from the screaming she’d done when he’d gotten her off during round two. Admittedly, she hadn’t been fully awake when he began.
“Now, now, bébé. You seemed to be enjoying yourself. Especially when you climbed on top.”
“You mean when you pulled me on top.” Her lips twitched as if she was trying not to smile. “And held my hips to make me move the way you wanted.”
“Zut, I’m no villain.” He bent his head and nibbled on the sweet curve between her neck and shoulder and felt her soften in his arms. “Just a Dominant.”
“Just, my ass,” she said under her breath, making him laugh.
He handed her a cup, waiting to release it until he knew her grip was secure. “I have a meeting in Seattle and must leave soon.”
“But it’s Sunday.”
“It is. I often work on weekends.” Perhaps it was time for a better balance in his life. “Are you working in your shop today?”
“Sure.” She doctored her coffee and took a sip. “Mmmm.” He could almost see her brain cells coming online. “I’m ready to gloss the tantric chair and have a couple of other commissions to work on. And I need new artsy projects for the stores and galleries who carry my work.”
“All on Bainbridge?”
“Only the downtown gallery here. I also have a contract with places in Pioneer Square, Fremont, and Pike Place.” She grinned. “The gallery sales let me create without worrying about what a client wants. And provide an additional income stream.”
Such an intriguing woman. She might call herself flighty, but he admired how she used her exceptional self-knowledge in financially inspired ways. In her case, “flighty” went hand-in-hand with brilliant.
“When you stay over with me in Seattle, I’d like to see your Pike Place outlet. My condo is only a block or so away.” He ran his hand through her damp hair to untangle the locks. Each strand would pop back into a curl. Quite mesmerizing.
“I thought you lived here on Bainbridge.”
He guided her over to the kitchen table where he’d left his coffee. “George talked me into buying a house here last year. I kept the city condo for late nights when the ferry isn’t running or when I need to be closer to work. I’d like you to stay with me there this weekend during the convention.”
“You have a condo in Seattle.” She looked to one side, a line furrowing between her brows. “It shouldn’t be a surprise to realize I don’t really know you.”
“We understand much about each other as a result of the scenes and sex. But our backgrounds and all the noise in our current lives—those things we don’t know.” He kissed away the worry line on her forehead. “There is time.”
He held a chair for her to sit and joined her at the table.
There was a thud, and Max padded into the room, tail high. Nose up, apparently checking for breakfast nibbles. Drake grinned. The former stray was one pampered cat.
Leaning back in his chair, he sipped the full-bodied coffee. Nice. Ray’s kitchen had three varieties of coffee as well as an espresso maker. All hers since George had preferred tea.
“You have good taste in coffee.” He held his cup up in a toast. “Obviously we were meant to be together.”
She actually giggled. “We’re fated mates…because of our coffee preferences?” Picking her cat up, she whispered in the furry ear, “I think Master Drake has gone off his meds.”
Drake tsked. “I compliment you, and you imply I’m insane? Appalling manners, mon petit chou.”
He did enjoy hearing her laugh.
Still smiling, she tilted her head. “I’ve been wondering. If you started Chains years ago, then you’ve been in the States a long time, but you still have an accent and…”
“Ah. You are observant.” He rubbed a finger over his goatee. “When my parents were killed in Marseille…” He still remembered his cousin’s face, the way her voice broke when she said they’re all dead. “…I was a teen, and my mother’s brother brought me here and adopted me. Gave me his name—Dragomir.”
The name had meant safety to Drake. A way of cutting ties with the half of his family in the mob.
“I’m sorry.” Her gaze was soft, and her hand covered his. “I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories.”