Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Luna
Elliott scoops me up off the bed like I weigh nothing.
It’s a little heady to be with someone who can do that. I’ve never experienced it before, and I can’t speak for other women, but I love being weightless.
Even when he puts me over his lap and smacks his hand down on my ass.
It doesn’t hurt, not really, and I think after so many years of female issues I have an unusually high tolerance for pain.
For me, letting him spank me is a thrilling game where I get to be the helpless maiden and he’s the big, overbearing alpha male. I would never put up with it in any other aspect of my life, but in the bedroom? I’m already so aroused it’s not funny.
“You like sassing me, huh?” he asks in a gruff voice.
I wiggle my bottom as much as I can in this position. “Yeah, kinda.” I can’t keep the humor from my voice, and I feel more than hear the rumble of his chest as he chuckles.
Then he runs one of those big, warm hands over the curve of my ass. “I see that. You’re something else, Luna.” His voice is low, almost like he’s talking more to himself than to me, but then he rests one hand on the small of my back and slides the other beneath my skirt.
When he gets to my panties, he toys with them for a bit, caressing the fabric and slipping his fingers between my legs. He must like what he finds there because a low, edgy sound escapes him, something between a groan and a hum.
“Such a great ass,” he continues in that gritty voice I love so much. “You think you’d let me take your ass sometime?”
“We’d have to work up to that,” I reply. “You’re…way too big to jump into it.”
“Definitely not jumping into anything. Maybe I’ll put a plug in your Christmas stocking.”
Christmas.
That’s five whole months away and he’s thinking about what he’s going to put in my stocking.
“And lube,” I say, trying to keep the mood light despite the emotions starting to run roughshod through my heart.
His hand comes down unexpectedly, catching me off-guard and making me gasp.
“Oh!”
He rubs his hand over the area and then smacks it again.
“What do you think? Do these panties belong to me now?”
“If you want them to.” My voice is a little breathless.
He slides them over my hips, down to my knees, and then smacks my ass again.
I’ve never been into this before but somehow it feels right with Elliott. I like being overpowered by him. The little bit of pain he causes me. The thing is, I know he’s capable of causing me physical harm.
I also know he won’t.
And that dichotomy is so fucking hot.
Every time his hand comes down, the burning sensation morphs into something deeper. Emotional. Fulfilling. I can’t even describe the way it impacts me. As if I’ve been waiting my entire life for someone to make me feel like this.
Those magical fingers are so good at bringing both pleasure and pain, it’s slowly becoming the same thing. I can’t help but squirm, an impatient sound emerging from my lungs.
“This make you hot, princess?” he asks after a while, making big circles with his hand over the area he’s been spanking.
“So much.”
One finger drifts between my legs and slides into me.
“I guess it does.” He presses the finger deeper and I whimper, clamping around it.
“I think you’ve been punished enough.” He slowly gets me on my feet and positions me so my back is to him.
“Straddle my thighs,” he says.
I wiggle into position since my skirt is still bunched up around my hips.
“Use your hand and put him inside you,” he directs gruffly.
I fumble to grip his shaft and position it where it needs to be.
“Now sink down,” he whispers, biting my earlobe.
One arm is around my waist and the other is at my hip.
Holding me in place. Guiding me exactly where I have to be.
As I sink down, his girth forces me wide open, and we both moan.
With him, it’s always too much and not enough at the same time, and it’s fucking amazing.
“That’s a good girl.” His words are warm but edgy, making me clench with need.
“Oh, fuck.” I gasp when he bottoms out.
I’m so full.
It feels different in this position, with me on his lap—reverse cowgirl.
“Look up, princess.”
Slowly, I lift my eyes and realize we’re positioned on the edge of the bed that faces his dresser—and mirror.
The picture in front of me is magical.
His dark head next to mine.
His broad shoulders dwarfing me.
The bottom couple of inches of his cock sticking out from beneath my core.
“So fucking hot,” he breathes. With one hand, he moves to my blouse and begins unbuttoning it.
As the sides slowly move apart, revealing my bra, he reaches in to lift one breast out of the cup.
It sits on top of my underwire, and he takes a moment to toy with my nipple before doing the same thing on the other side.
My breath is coming hot and fast, my body quivering with need.
“Please,” I whisper.
“Don’t rush me, princess. This is fucking everything.”
And it is.
I don’t know what he sees, but what I see is undoubtedly something else.
With Elliott, I look small. Delicate. Petite almost.
Those are words that have never, ever been used to describe me.
Seeing it in the mirror is better than any porn or anything I could have come up with in my imagination.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, running his thumbs back and forth over my nipples. “How do you feel about nipple clamps?”
“Are they going in my…stocking?” I pant, trying to keep things lighthearted but falling short.
“They’re going on your nipples,” he growls. “So I can tug on them while I’m fucking you. And no way in hell I’m waiting for Christmas to do it!” He thrusts up hard and deep and my insides turn to molten lava.
I try to move but my feet don’t touch the ground and he’s gripping me too tightly.
“You’ll sit there and take it,” he whispers, one hand closing around my throat and squeezing.
I gulp, it’s all I can manage, and my head falls back against his chest.
“Open your eyes,” he commands. “And watch your man fuck you.”
It takes an almost herculean effort to lift my heavy lids, but I manage to meet his gaze in the mirror and it’s…
intoxicating. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man as sexy and powerful as Elliott Rageis is right now.
He’s pounding into me, his cock moving at an angle that makes me see stars every time he bottoms out.
He glides against my slick walls with practiced precision, as if he knows exactly what we both need.
Every time our eyes meet in the mirror I see everything I’m feeling reflected back at me and it brings me right to the edge.
I’m practically a prisoner in his arms, and yet I’ve never felt safer. More beautiful. Or more alive.
“Please…” I whisper hoarsely. “Please!”
“We’re almost there, princess.” One hand drifts down to my clit. He flicks a finger back and forth and then pinches it hard, simultaneously squeezing my throat a little tighter. My body winds up, like a rubber band stretching to its limit, ready to snap.
“That’s my good girl.” He thrusts up with so much pressure I cry out, but I can’t think anymore because my orgasm explodes out of me with enough force to nearly buck me off his lap.
That doesn’t happen, though, because he just hangs on tight, fucks me harder, and follows me over the cliff with a roar that bounces off the walls.
Our bodies continue slapping together a few more times, moans escaping that sound guttural and raw, until we finally collapse.
I’m weightless against him, breathing hard, trying to come back to earth after being transported somewhere otherworldly.
Elliott is breathing heavily too, the side of his face pressed against mine.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he whispers.
I close my hands around his forearms in response, because actual words are too hard at the moment.
He trails soft kisses along my jawline, keeping me pressed tight against him.
I’m often uncomfortable in the aftermath of sex, anxious to clean up, go to sleep, do anything but revel in the intimacy.
But not with Elliott.
With our bodies still connected, there’s nowhere else I want to be.
“You okay, princess?” he asks after a while.
“Mmhm.”
“You want to get into bed?”
“Not yet.” I squeeze his forearm tighter, holding on to the intimacy of the moment for as long as possible.
And he lets me.
He simply continues to kiss and cuddle me, keeping me close, whispering how beautiful I am. How sexy. How much he enjoyed what we just did.
I agree with all of it, I just can’t seem to formulate any words.
It isn’t until his stomach growls that I finally snap out of my post-coital haze.
“Hungry?” I ask softly.
“I can wait.”
“I’m hungry too,” I whisper. “I just wasn’t ready to move yet.”
“There’s no hurry, princess. We’re together and it’s exactly where we’re supposed to be.”
For the first time in my life, I actually believe it.