Chapter 26 The Trial – Belle #2
Something shifts in his expression. Understanding. His hands tighten on my waist. “Okay. Fast and hard. I can do that.”
But when he tries to lead me toward the bedroom, I stop him.
“No.” My voice comes out commanding. Cold. The tone I used during trial testimony. “Here. Against the door.”
Max’s pupils dilate. “Belle.”
“Do what I say.” I push his shirt off completely. My hands explore his chest. The muscles I know intimately. “Or I stop.”
“You’re bossy tonight.”
“I’m in control tonight.” I meet his gaze directly. “Problem?”
“No.” His voice is rough. Wanting. “No problem.”
I reach for his belt. Unbuckle it slowly. Pull it free from the loops. Max’s breathing changes. Faster. Shallower.
“Hands against the door.” I point. “Above your head.”
He obeys immediately. The position makes his shoulders flex, his back arch slightly. Vulnerable and open.
I work his pants open. Push them down his hips along with his underwear. His cock springs free, already hard and straining. Thick and flushed with arousal.
“Someone’s eager,” I murmur.
“It’s been too long,” he reminds me. “You said it yourself.”
I wrap my hand around him. Stroke once from base to tip. Max groans, his forehead dropping against the door.
“Quiet.” I squeeze harder. Not painful, but close. “Or I stop.”
He bites his lip. Nods.
I release him and step back. Remove my own clothes with deliberate slowness. Let him watch. Let him want.
When I’m naked, I return to him. Press my body against his back. My breasts against his shoulder blades. My hand reaching around to grip his cock again.
“You’re mine,” I whisper against his ear. “Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours, Belle. All yours.”
I stroke him with purpose. Each movement calculated to drive him higher without letting him finish. My free hand explores his chest. His stomach. His thighs. I feel his muscles tense under my touch, feel him trying to hold still, trying to be good for me.
“I love watching you fall apart for me,” I say. “Love knowing I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”
Max is trembling. His hands pressed flat against the door. His cock thick and hot in my grip. Precum leaking from the tip.
I bring my hand up. Spread the wetness across the head with my thumb. Max’s hips jerk forward involuntarily.
“Stay still,” I command.
“Sorry. God, I’m sorry.”
“You will be if you don’t follow instructions.” I work him faster now. Firmer. Building him up toward the edge. “Do you want to come, Max?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Not yet.” I release him completely. He makes a sound of protest that he immediately chokes back.
“Turn around.”
He does. His dark eyes are glazed with desire. His lips are parted. His chest rises and falls rapidly. He looks absolutely wrecked and I’ve barely touched him.
“On your knees.”
Max drops immediately. Looking up at me with those eyes that see everything. That love me despite knowing exactly what I am.
I step closer. Guide his head between my thighs. “Make me come. Use your mouth. Show me how good you can be.”
His hands come up to grip my hips, but I catch his wrists. “No touching. Mouth only. If your hands move, I’ll tie them behind your back.”
“Yes.” The word is breathless. Reverent.
His mouth finds me instantly. Hot and eager and skilled. His tongue traces my slit, collecting the wetness there before moving up to my clit. He circles it slowly, teasingly, making me ache.
I grip his hair. Not gentle. Hard enough to hurt. He moans against me, the vibration sending pleasure racing through my nerves.
“That’s it.” My head falls back. “Good boy. So good for me.”
His tongue moves faster, more insistent. Lapping at my clit with perfect pressure. I can feel the orgasm building, coiling tight in my belly.
“Use your fingers,” I order. “Two. Inside me.”
He obeys immediately. Two fingers slide into my pussy, stretching me, filling me. He curls them upward, finding that spot that makes my knees weak.
“Fuck.” The word escapes before I can stop it. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
Max works me relentlessly. His mouth on my clit, his fingers pumping in and out, scissoring to stretch me wider. The wet sounds of his fingers fucking me mix with my ragged breathing.
The orgasm builds fast. Too fast. I try to hold it back, try to make this last, but his mouth is relentless. His fingers perfect.
I come hard. My thighs clamping around his head. My hand fisting in his hair so tight it must hurt. A choked cry escaping despite my attempt to stay quiet.
Max continues licking. Gentler now. Drawing out the aftershocks until I’m shaking. His fingers slow but don’t stop, keeping me full, prolonging the pleasure.
“Stop.” I push him back. My legs are unsteady. “Bedroom. Now.”
He stands. Follows me. His cock bounces with each step, flushed dark and leaking. I can see how desperate he is. How much he needs release.
Good. I want him desperate.
In the bedroom, I point to the bed. “Lie down. On your back.”
Max climbs onto the mattress. Positions himself in the center. His cock stands proud against his stomach, a bead of precum sliding down the shaft.
I straddle him without taking him inside yet. My wet pussy rubs against his length, coating him with my arousal. Sliding back and forth in slow, torturous movements.
Max’s hands move to my hips. I catch his wrists. Pin them above his head.
“No touching unless I say.”
“Belle, please.”
“Please what?”
“I need to be inside you. Need to feel you.”
“You will.” I reach between us. Position him at my entrance. Just the tip pressing against me. “When I’m ready.”
I sink down slowly. Taking him inch by inch. Savoring the stretch. The fullness. The way his eyes roll back as I envelop him completely.
“Fuck,” Max breathes.
I still. “What did I say about being quiet?”
“Sorry. God, I’m sorry. You feel so good. So tight and wet and perfect.”
I clench my inner muscles around him. Watching his face contort with pleasure. “Better?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know. You’re killing me.”
“Good.” I start moving. Rising until only his tip remains inside before sinking back down. Slow. Torturous. “Keep your hands where they are. Don’t move them.”
Max’s entire body is taut. His muscles straining. His hands above his head where I pinned them, fists clenched in the sheets, not moving even though I’m no longer holding them there.
“Look at you,” I murmur. “So obedient. So desperate to please me.”
“Always.” His voice is strained. Rough. “Always want to please you.”
I go faster. Riding him harder. Rougher. My breasts bounce with each movement. Max’s eyes are locked on them, hunger written across his features.
“You want to touch them,” I say. Not a question.
“Yes.”
“Beg.”
“Please, Belle. Please let me touch you. Let me feel you.”
“No.” I lean forward, bracing my hands on either side of his head. The angle changes, making him hit deeper. “You don’t get to touch. You get to lie there and take what I give you.”
Max groans. His hips buck up involuntarily, trying to get deeper.
“Stay still,” I command. “Or I stop completely. Leave you hard and aching and desperate.”
He forces himself to still. Every muscle trembling with the effort of holding back.
I sit back up. My hand slides between us, finding my clit. I work myself in quick circles while continuing to move on his cock. Using him for my pleasure. Taking what I need.
“Belle, I can’t hold on much longer.”
“You can. You will.” I’m close again. So close. The combination of his cock filling me and my fingers on my clit pushing me toward the edge. “Not until I say.”
“Please. I need to come. Need it so bad.”
“No.” My movements become erratic. Harder. Faster. Chasing my release. “You wait. You don’t come until I give you permission.”
Max is shaking beneath me. His hands are still above his head, knuckles white where he grips the sheets. His jaw clenched. Every vein in his neck standing out with the strain of holding back.
The second orgasm hits harder than the first. My inner walls clench around him, pulsing rhythmically. I bite down on my lip to muffle my cry, tasting blood.
“Now.” The word comes out breathless. Commanding. “Come for me now. Fill me up.”