Chapter 5 #2
Mara shuffled forward, between his spread feet.
He didn’t give any instructions, so after a brief consideration, Mara gripped the wings of the wingback chair and leaned in.
The angle wasn’t quite right, so she bent her knee, her shin braced on his thick thigh, her own knee tucked between his body and the side of the chair.
She leaned in again, tipping her head as she arched her back to thrust her breasts toward his face. Her nipple brushed warm skin and she waited, but nothing happened.
He didn’t move, didn’t help her. She twisted and shifted until her nipple brushed the soft, slightly damp flesh of his lips.
Only then did he open his mouth and take control. He sucked the whole tip of her breast into his mouth, enveloping her in warm, wet heat. She shivered, and one of his arms banded around her lower back. Mara leaned against him, increasing the backbend.
He pulled at her nipple with his lips, a soft, warm plucking. It felt good, but she needed more.
He gave her more.
Teeth fastened around her, biting down. She hissed out air, then inhaled on a gasp of pain when he pulled back, forcing her nipple to slide from between the hard edges of his teeth.
“Give me your other nipple.” His lips were against her breast as he spoke.
She shifted, tit swaying slightly as she brought her other breast into place before his mouth. This time, he started with his tongue—licking, swirling, and flicking.
The sensations were so acute, the rest of her body was muted. She was her nipple. Every bit of pleasure or pain visited on the sensitive bud happened to all of her.
And there was pain.
Just as he had with the first, he bit and pulled, then kept pulling, forcing her flesh through the vice of his teeth.
She tensed as her nipple stretched and burned, her breathing hard and uneven. She fought the instinct to reach out and stop him.
Except…
Except that her internal battle had gone quiet. She wasn’t quietly at war with herself. Yes, having his teeth on her nipple like this hurt—quite a lot—but no part of her thought she should stop him.
Why would she?
She was his.
Cole finally released her nipple and gripped her hips, bringing her to sit on his lap with her legs spread over his thighs, her knees tucked beside his hips.
He held a gloved thumb to her mouth. “Lick.”
Obediently she laved the leather with her tongue.
Cole rubbed her spit into her nipple, then raised his thumb back to her mouth.
He made her wet his thumb again and again as he coated her nipples to his satisfaction.
Each time he raised his hand to her mouth, she obediently licked and occasionally sucked, closing her eyes in anticipation of the sensation of having her aching nipples rolled and played with.
This time, his thumb went to her clit. She hunched forward, nearly cracking her head against his, as a sharp bolt of pleasure shot through her when his thumb circled her clit. She was primed, ready, and hypersensitive.
Cole’s hand gripped the back of her neck, squeezing as he brought her up, spine straight. She was held between his hands, one at her neck the other at her pussy, her body taut between them.
Her arms stayed outstretched, bracing against the chair as he slowly worked her clit.
When the moisture from her mouth had dissipated, his thumb dipped down into the pool of arousal fluid at her entrance, drawing it up and slicking her clit, making the glide of his thumb both faster and softer as he went back to circling.
“This time, if you want to come, you come in my mouth.”
Mara slitted her eyes open, her brain fuzzy with arousal. It didn’t help when Cole leaned forward and blew on her damp nipples. A shiver worked over skin that already prickled with the need.
“Do you want to come?”
“Yes, please.”
“You know what to do.”
“Don’t make me think. Please.”
His eyes flashed with satisfaction, and his finger stopped. She whimpered in frustration at the loss.
“Up.” He punctuated the command with a gentle slap to her pussy. One leather-covered finger hit her clit and pleasure-pain zinged through her.
Even with that, she was already moving, already obeying, but when she tried to slide off his lap to stand, he stopped her.
He didn’t speak again, instead commanding her with his hands. She stood on the chair, feet sinking into the cushion on either side of his thighs, her hands gripping the back for balance. A hand on her ankle guided her foot up onto the arm of the chair, opening her farther.
“Hold on,” was the final command before his mouth was on her.
His breath was warm, but his lips and tongue felt scorching. He didn’t tease, but went right for her clit, sucking and licking. When he pinched her ass, she tilted her pelvis, giving him better access.
She came then, his tongue working her in steady, firm circles. The orgasm was as soft as his tongue, building slowly, the crest gentle but lasting.
Mara braced herself, expecting him to keep going.
Wanting him to torment her body by forcing multiple orgasms. It was something she saw plenty of but had only ever had done to her using a toy.
The toy had gotten hot from being on for so long, so instead of the pleasure-pain of multiple orgasms, she had just the pain of a slight burn on her clit once she finally safe-worded to let the Dom know something might be wrong.
Multiple, forced orgasms from Cole’s tongue sounded perfect in a way nothing else had in a long time.
But after the orgasm, he eased her down until she was once more straddling his lap.
His hands stroked her from the upper thighs along her sides, over her breasts, and then from her shoulders down her arms. He manacled her wrists, forcing her palms onto the arms of the chair, his own hands still holding her.
“I was going to give you a choice.” Cold guided her palm to his crotch, forcing her hands to mold over the hard ridge of his cock currently trapped in his leathers.
“What choice?”
“Which hole I fuck. With my cock.” He bucked his hips, and she squeezed him. “But you don’t want to decide, do you, Brown Eyes?”
She shook her head, hair whipping her face. She felt drunk with arousal despite the orgasm she’d just had.
“What a good…” He cupped her cheek and she leaned into it. “…pretty...” His hand stroked up over her hair, smoothing some strands back from her face. “…needy little slut you are.”
Her eyes had closed as he petted her, but on those last words, she opened them at the same time his hand fisted in her hair, making her scalp prickle. He jerked her head down, their noses almost touching.
“When I call you a needy slut or a pretty little fuckdoll, know it’s not degradation, because you’re my fuckdoll, and that’s exactly how I’m going to use you.”
A second later, she was on her knees, and a second after that, his cock was in her mouth. He was even rougher than before, jerking her head down onto his cock, drool sliding from her mouth as wet gags and gurgles escaped her. It was rough, but didn’t last long.
Her eyes had just started to water when he pulled her head off his cock, spun her around, and pushed her face into the floor.
She heard the scrape of the heavy chair as he pushed it back out of the way and knelt behind her. Mara braced her palms on the floor and tilted her hips, offering him whichever hole he wanted to use next.
He kneaded her ass, spreading her cheeks as his knee nudged her legs apart.
A second later, the big cock that had just been in her mouth was sliding between her labia, the fat head bumping her clit.
He grabbed one of her arms, forcing her forearm across the small of her back and holding it there with one of his hard hands.
His cockhead notched at her entrance, her sex already feeling stretched and he wasn’t even inside her.
Cole thrust all the way in with one hard, snapping motion of his lips.
Mara screamed, her body spasming with a combination of pleasure and pain at the sudden, rough invasion.
He was using her like a fuckdoll, just as he’d promised.
But it wasn’t dehumanizing or humiliating, because they both knew she was more than ready for him.
She’d been stretched and filled by his fingers and made to orgasm on his tongue. That was plenty of prep.
Besides, the little hint of pain was good. It was evidence that this wasn’t just sex, but rough sex born of the power exchange.
Or is it just really good sex?
Cole used his hold on her forearm to pull her back each time he thrust forward, her ass slapping against his hips in a sound so loud that it echoed.
When that wasn’t enough, Cole grabbed her other arm, forcing it behind her back and holding on.
Now, she was trapped in his hold with no leverage of her own unless she was willing to brace her face on the floor.
Pleasure rolled through her in waves. These were deeper, rougher seas than the ones she’d sailed with her first orgasm.
She was close, wonderfully close, but before she could come, he yanked her back hard, gripping her elbows to keep her impaled on his cock and turned them to face the chair.
Mara felt like a puppet he was playing with, but instead of having a hand inside her, she was a puppet controlled by a thick cock.
Mara caught a glimpse of something on the floor, but before she could process what it was, her tits and face were against the cushion of the chair.
He released her arms and she braced herself, rocking slightly on his cock to see if she could find the orgasm that had escaped her.
“No, you don’t get to come on my cock. Not this time. You know where my cock is going next.”
It hadn’t been a question, but he spanked her when she didn’t answer the not-question.
“Say it,” Cole commanded.
“Ass,” she breathed, arousal making her almost lightheaded.
Another spank. “Do better.”
Enough game playing. She wanted what came next. “Your cock is going in my ass.”
Cole smirked. “That’s right.”