18. Mandi
Jason stares at me, his blue eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them. “You want to be in charge, Princess?”
I shake my head, lower my gaze, and ease back to the couch, so I don’t look like a woman obsessed with breastfeeding her favorite, very-adult man.
In a clear show of dominance, Jason sinks his strong fingers into the cheeks of my ass and pulls me onto his lap, so I’m straddling him. He palms one of my breasts and brushes his thumb lightly over my nipple. “I’m definitely not going to ignore these gorgeous fucking tits, Mandi, but it’s rare for you to be this assertive,” he says, looking me over with intensity, before he raises his hands like he’s surrendering. “Show me more of what you want.”
I freeze.
Not once in the time I’ve known him, in all our interactions — intimate or otherwise — has he relinquished control. Not ever. I don’t think either of us trusted what I’d do with the freedom, but there was more to it than that.
He lost everything back in that accident. His sister, his family stability, his physical health, his sports scholarship, and the opportunities that was going to give him. College. A career. An escape from the small town, where his learning was limited and his sharp mind languished. In that one horrific tragedy, his life was thrown into chaos, and the only way he made it through was to double-down and force himself to keep moving forward by any means possible. He had to be in control. Had to have a plan. Had to follow it.
I was the most volatile and unstable girl he could have fallen for, but he took me under his wing the only way he could, and it worked. For both of us.
Confronted with the option of something different, I don’t know if I can trust myself not to ruin what we had.
“You can’t do anything wrong with me, Princess.”
He’s always known what to say. He sees the world as a collection of tiny details and connections, and he always seems to know which ones matter and where his attention is needed most.
I reach down and finish unbuttoning his jeans, and then look to him for approval.
He smiles and cups my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “You already have permission, beautiful. What comes next?”
I ease closer, but then change my mind. Change direction. I climb off his lap and pull at his jeans. They don’t come easily, since he’s sitting in them. I stop tugging and give his hips a squeeze. “Lift?”
His eyes sparkle at me, and he sucks at his teeth, as if he’s trying not to smile. “Is that a question or a directive?”
I can’t raise one eyebrow, like he can, so I raise them both. “Let me take off your fucking pants.”
He smirks and lifts his hips, like I asked. “As you wish.”
I take his jeans and boxers both, leaving him completely naked.
He opens his mouth to speak, but I shush him.
I shushed him? I clamp a hand over my mouth.
God, he’s going to spank me for that later.
I meet his gaze. He frowns, and I get the arched eyebrow, but he doesn’t reprimand me beyond that, and he continues to sit quietly while he waits for me to make the next move.
“Sorry,” I whisper moving closer and raking my fingers over his body, while I let my eyes take their fill. “I’ve never been able to enjoy all of you at once before,” I say with total reverence. “Is it okay if I look at you a while, before I pull you to the floor, to drag myself along your fucking skin? I mean… Look at you.”
His eyes get shifty, and he glances away as he shrugs.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when his jaw tenses beneath his tidy beard.
He shakes his head but doesn’t meet my gaze.
I climb into his lap and hold his face between my hands, so he can’t look away. “Tell me.”
He sighs. “I was fighting the urge to pull one of the cushions in front of me to cover up. I’m uncomfortable being the one under this kind of scrutiny.”
“Scrutiny?” I ask. “As in… me, appreciating your strength and beauty?” I squint at him. “You’ve always looked at me like this. It makes me feel pretty and special.”
He scoffs. “That’s because you’re beautiful, and I’m?—”
“Beautiful,” I say in a tone meant to silence him. I clutch his throat and squeeze, before he can utter anything else. “You can use your safe-word if you want me to stop, but until you do, I’m going to kiss you from your beautiful head to your beautiful toes, and then I’m going to suck your beautiful cock. Mm-kay?”
I release his throat and push my fingers through his short hair, and he exhales with a rumble, as his cock strains beneath me. “If that’s what you want to do with your power, I’d be a fool to challenge it,” he says, with a soft snort. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the couch, while I rub all over him, kissing and nipping his skin.
He hisses when I sink my teeth around his nipple, and he grips my ass so hard, his fingers bite my flesh, but instead of throwing me down and making me regret it, he shoves his hands under his ass, pinning them there.
“Such a good boy,” I tease. I tug his bottom lip with my teeth, before I slither down between his legs, to take his thick cock in my mouth. I flick the tip of my tongue at his slit, to taste the salty slickness he’s made me, and then I suck him hard until he curls his toes into the rug.
He moans and grips the couch. “Fuck.”
He clasps my shoulder, fists my hair, and drives me down on his cock, until I gag and pull backward.
“Hey.” I wipe my mouth and try to get my lust under control.
I fucking love it when he makes me do something that pleases him. Usually, he’s so focused on forcing me to accept pleasure that his is a second thought, but to have him be this unguarded?
I squeeze my thighs together over the chronic needy ache he inspires.
He raises his hands and shakes his head. “Sorry. I’m no good at this whole role-reversal thing. You’re making me feel too good. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to pick you up, throw you down, and fuck you till you beg to come.”
“You’re meant to feel this good,” I say, breathing hard. “Do you think I’m sucking you this enthusiastically because I want you to feel bad?” I take his hand between my slippery thighs, so he can feel what pleasing him does to me. “I like making you feel good.”
I rock against his hand, and then gather three of his fingers together and fuck them while he watches.
More pre-cum oozes from his cock each time it bucks and strains. The urge to collect it on my tongue is making me salivate, but there’s somewhere else I want it more.
“When you feel good, I feel good,” I say, climbing back onto his lap and trading his fingers for his cock. My pussy spreads around the thick head, and I rock back and forth, working his girth inside me until he’s buried to the hilt. “Don’t you want me to feel good?” I ride him nice and slow as I guide his mouth to my breast.
He latches on and suckles in a gentle tease, unlike the desperate, needy way he first devoured my breastmilk. This is sweeter and more loving. Like he did when he asked about our baby.
Is that what he’s thinking about? Is he trying to recreate the sensation of a child, feeding?
His beard scuffs my skin in a very un-baby-like way, as he nuzzles closer, and the thought leaves my mind. I’m struck again by the size and strength of the grown man nursing at my breast, and my pussy ripples around his cock. How many years have I craved him? Craved this closeness and acceptance? Craved the life we should have had?
What could that life have been? Would we have been happy with our family? Had our boy to love? Would we have had more children? How many? Two? Three? Six? How sexy would he have been, teaching them sports and demanding excellence from their teachers?
I imagine Jason with a baby in his arms, and my core shivers. He responds by sucking harder, tugging my nipple deep into his mouth, and squeezing my breast with his lips as he swallows. A jolt of need shocks me into a frenzy, and Jason doesn’t miss a beat. He meets my increased pace and angles his jerking cock hard at my cervix before switching his hot mouth to my other breast and pulling to encourage my milk to flow.
Is the sensation flooding me with desire due to his ministrations or the fantasy of making babies with him? I can’t tell, but the escalation in my urgency to come is undeniable.
I thrust my hips at him faster, taking his cock harder, so I can feel him at the tender entrance to my womb. That’s where I want him to come. Just thinking about it gets me to the brink.
I ride the edge of pleasure, loving his cock, his mouth, and his unwavering love and care for my body and soul.
My pussy flutters around him, and my nipple slips from his lips, as he moans. “You’re going to make me come so fucking hard,” he rumbles and buries his face in my flesh.
“Good. I want it.” I love it when he fucks me full of cum. It’s always felt incredible and naughty, and a way for him to mark me as his. “I want your seed inside me.”
His cock swells, and its head nudges me deep inside as he swears. “God, I want that. So fucking bad.”
He latches back onto my breast with a whole new energy, and I clamp myself hard around his cock, to keep from falling apart. He does want it badly.
I wrench Jason from my breast and trap his face where we can see each other clearly. “Tell me what you want.”
He looks me over and frowns. “This, Princess.” He grips my hips and tugs me closer, forcing his cock through my constricted pussy, until it gives with a quiver. He marks the end to my turn in the boss’s chair with a satisfied grunt and reaches around my ass to feel my dripping pussy pulled taut around his big cock. “This and more,” he says. He drags his fingers through my arousal, and then slides his fingertips backward, to swirl slippery circles around my asshole.
The threat of penetration is imminent, as he gradually applies more pressure to my tightest hole. He treats my body like he owns it, and the sense of belonging to him has always given me the biggest thrill. When he pushes his fingers inside, they’re going to stretch and fuck me until his cock feels even bigger. My pussy twitches around him at the thought, and he gives an approving hum.
“I haven’t stopped wanting more since the night we first met,” he says with a voice like gravel. “When you’re involved, I can’t ever get enough, you fucking gorgeous woman. You want something more specific?” He teases my ass with penetration but leaves me hanging, until my body trembles with the anticipation. “Ask me for anything, and I’ll fucking give it to you.”
“Anything?” I rock into him, gushing all over his cock when the pressure at my back hole increases.
“Anything.”
He breaches me, and I buck forward and back, fucking him both ways. He fills and stretches me perfectly, quickly driving me closer to release. When he draws my nipple back into his mouth and suckles, there’s no way I’ll stop the building wave from crashing. It’s coming for me, so I’ll need to make my request in a hurry.
“Will you make another beautiful baby with me?” I ask, panting myself into a mewling mess, as he thrusts into me from both sides, forcing me over the edge.
“I’ll murder anyone who tries to stop me,” he growls in my ear. “It’d be my fucking honor to breed you, Princess. I hope for a baby every fucking time. We’ll make as many as you want.”
He clamps his free hand around my throat, and his cock jerks inside my clenching pussy. The pulsing in my depths is all consuming, as he spurts hard at my limits with a roar, flooding me with his hot seed. I moan and twitch and shatter around him, and the pleasure rolling outward from my core is too much to bear without being boneless.
I begin to sag, and Jason gently eases me to rest on his chest. His beautiful, bare chest — such a privilege to experience. My soft curves mold against his hard planes of muscle, and I soak up his warmth, as he strokes my hair and presses long, luxurious kisses to my skin.
He’s been hoping to breed me. Every time. Considers it an honor — wantsme to be irrevocably his. A thread of aftershocks shudder through my pussy.
“Mmm…” Jason sinks his teeth into my shoulder a moment. “Whatever you’re thinking, I like it, too.”
I smile and trace his tattoo of my name. “I kind of want to write Property of above this.”
“It’s implied,” he says with a chuckle. “Just like it will be when my name is tattooed on your ass.”
I tilt my head back, so I can see his face. “And when am I doing that, Jason King?” I ask, pushing one of my eyebrows up with my finger, so it looks like his.
Jason shrugs and acts nonchalant, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes. “Before the wedding, if you need people to know whose ass this is before any formal documentation exists.”
I hurry to hide my grin and act casual. “In which kind of circumstances might people need proof of that information?” I ask fluttering my lashes at him. “Who will I be expected to show my branded ass to?”
“Anyone who tries to take it away from me,” he rumbles. “They should know the name of the man who’ll be pissing on their unmarked grave in our back yard every day. You’re mine.” His cock stands erect for the declaration, and my pussy gives it a rippling squeeze.
How does he always know exactly what to say and do, to unravel me?
I smile and rest my head back against his chest.
It’s because I am his.
Totally, perfectly his.