Chapter 41
Miles’s heart fluttered. His dick surged, becoming so hard, he ached. This, too, was something new between them. Her asking for what she wanted.
He’d gladly hand over control to Tabitha. Would willingly give up his power so that she could embrace hers.
“Tell me what you need.”
That power flared in her eyes, making the blue of them glow. “I need you to keep your arms where they are. No touching me.”
Well, hell. If he’d known that was going to be one of her stipulations, he wouldn’t have given in quite so easily. But he had given in, so he nodded.
And, lifting his arms back where they’d been, curled his fingers around the back of the sofa. “What else?”
“No talking,” she blurted, slightly breathless, her peaked nipples visible against the soft cotton of his shirt, as if his easy compliance turned her on as much as her obedience to his demands turned him on. “You can only speak if I ask you a direct question or if you want me to stop. Or if you want to beg me to keep going.”
Everything inside of him went still. Alert.
Aroused as hell.
Her words—no, her command—was the same as the one he’d given her that first night.
She was reversing the roles they’d taken on that night, the ones they’d been playing ever since.
“Do you understand?” she asked.
While he normally hated showing even the slightest bit of weakness, and was scared shitless of what he couldn’t control, it was time for a change.
Time to prove he could change.
He nodded again.
“I need the words,” she chided lightly.
He had to clear his throat, twice, before he was able to speak, and even then, his words were more growl than anything else. “I understand.”
She made another of those humming sounds, the one that indicated how pleased she was with him, then she widened her thighs, settling more of her weight on his lap.
And she touched him.
Just… touched him, her head tipped to the side as she watched her fingers move across his forehead, brushing back his hair. Tracing his left eyebrow, then his right. She trailed her fingers down to his cheeks. Rubbed the flat of her thumb along the bridge of his nose while her other hand cupped his cheek, her fingers stroking the line of his jaw.
His chest locked up. He didn’t move. Couldn’t. Was afraid if he blinked, if he so much as breathed, she’d stop.
And he was one lucky bastard, because he’d never, ever, felt anything as good as her hands on him. Had never seen anything as mesmerizing as the appreciation in her eyes, the hint of stunned joy on her face, as if she was the lucky one because she got to touch him.
Her fingers skimmed the curve of his ears before trailing down his cheeks. Brushed along his chin, then down his throat. Traced his collarbone, then smoothed along his shoulders before gliding back up to cup his face with both hands.
Then, gaze holding his, she leaned down and brushed her lips against his. Miles’s breath stuttered out. He forced himself to stay perfectly still, to let her set the pace, let her have full control of this kiss.
Let her take whatever she needed from him.
She flicked her tongue over the corner of his mouth, then tilted her head from side to side as she explored every centimeter of his mouth with soft, nibbling bites, and quick, teasing flicks of the tip of her tongue.
But he kept his mouth shut, his lips pressed together, testing her even now.
Pushing her to use that power he was giving her.
Wanting her to take it.
“Let me in,” she whispered, and he opened his mouth, her triumph becoming his own when she lazily stroked her tongue against his.
Her fingers stroked into his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp as she kissed him again. And again. Each kiss deeper, wetter, hungrier than the one before until they were both breathing hard. Shutting his eyes, he gave himself over to her kiss. It was a perfect juxtaposition of gentle moans and harsh breathing.
Soft lips and sharp teeth.
Patience and hunger.
Of give and take.
She moved her mouth down to his jaw, brushed her lips down his throat and then up the side of his neck, licking and biting gently. Sucking the sensitive spot under his ear until he writhed beneath her, his hips lifting and lowering, fucking air, trying to find some pressure.
But she kept her weight on her thighs, hovering above him, just out of reach.
Moving down, she scattered pecking kisses across his pecs. Traced one fingertip around his left nipple, circling it until it pebbled into a hard point, then dipped her head and took it into her mouth.
He’d never, not once before, considered his nipples erogenous zones.
Not until right now.
Not until it was the swipe of her tongue against it that had his breath catching.
The light scrape of her teeth that had him shuddering in pleasure.
The warm, wet suction of her mouth that had him groaning.
Each slight tug of her mouth seemed connected directly to his dick, had it pulsing in time with her mouth. Had him leaking in his jeans.
Smoothing her hands down his sides, her fingertips trailing across the bumps of his ribs, she brushed her mouth down his stomach. Pressed more of those licking, biting, sucking kisses along the ridges of his abdomen as she slid off his lap to kneel on the floor between his legs.
She hooked her fingers under the waistband of his jeans, her thumbs lightly, lightly rubbing along his erection on either side of his zipper, before she undid the button. Carefully pulled the zipper down.
“Lift your hips.”
He did, and she straightened, tugging his jeans down, then stepping back so she could take them off. Tossing them aside, she once more straddled him, this time settling her weight closer to his knees. And… fuck. She was wet, her juices covering her inner thighs. Coating the tops of his legs.
He wasn’t the only one enjoying this new power dynamic between them.
He shifted his leg inward. Just a little bit, maybe half an inch. Enough to encourage her to press that sopping pussy against him. To ride his thigh, spread her slickness over him and come apart.
But Tabitha had a hell of a lot more willpower than he did—or else she was just way more invested in taking care of him—because she lifted up to her knees once again.
Taking his cock in her hand, she gave him a long, slow stroke that had his breath hissing out.
“I’m safe. I haven’t been with anyone else since the last time I was tested.” She hesitated, bit her lower lip as she sent him a look from beneath her lashes. “I haven’t been with any other man in over a year.”
With her soft, warm hand working him that way, it took him a moment to figure out what she was saying. Why she was saying it.
And when he did, his mind blanked, his hips thrusting up so fast, so hard, he almost knocked her right off his lap.
Balancing herself with her free hand on his upper thigh, she smiled at him, all feminine confidence.
“You like that idea?” she murmured, back to those agonizingly slow strokes of his cock. “You want to be inside of me with nothing between us?”
He nodded, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his breathing fast and choppy.
But it wasn’t enough for his little power-hungry queen.
She squeezed his dick.
Hard.
Yet another thing he hadn’t realized he liked, until she was the one doing it.
“Yes,” he gasped, struggling now to keep his hips still instead of fucking her hand the way he wanted to. He was so close already, so on edge, he was afraid if he moved, he’d explode.
Her grin widened, as if she knew his struggle.
And reveled in it.
“I want that, too,” she admitted, then she set her free hand on his shoulder and leaned forward, her hips lifting. Brushed the head of his cock against the incredibly soft, slick skin of her inner thigh.
“Take my shirt off,” he blurted, wanting her naked, her tits pressed against his chest.
She froze, her hand still circling his cock, her eyebrows raising at his audacity at not only breaking her rules, but making a demand of his own.
“No. I’m going to keep it on. I like that it smells like you. And I really like how wearing it makes me feel like I’m yours.”
His.
His fingers tightened on the back of the sofa. Possessiveness and pride that she was with him, that she wanted him, coursed through him.
“Say it again,” he demanded, knowing he was pushing his luck after he’d promised to stay silent.
But she took pity on him, a benevolent queen after all.
“I’m yours,” she told him, simple and true. Leaning down, she kissed him. Kept her forehead pressed against his while she lifted her hips. Rubbed the head of his cock back and forth between her slick folds. “I’m yours,” she repeated, notching the head of his cock to her center. “I’m yours.”
And she sank down onto him.
***
Tabitha’s gasp mixed with the sound of Miles’s guttural moan.
And she’d only taken him in an inch.
He was big. Thick and long, and although her body was more than ready for him, she was going to have to work to take him in fully.
Not exactly a hardship considering how wet she was, how needy for his cock, but she had to go slow.
Something Miles didn’t seem to agree with.
He lifted his hips, just a little, an impatient, greedy move that had his dick sliding in another inch.
And while it would have been easy—and, no doubt, extremely enjoyable—to have him be in control, she didn’t want him to take what he needed from her.
She wanted to give it to him.
Hands on his shoulders, she lifted onto her knees so that the tip of his cock barely penetrated her. “No. Moving.”
His entire body twitched, his jaw clenched. He inhaled, short and sharp. Held it, then exhaled, long and low.
And went utterly, completely still.
She could see why he got off on the whole obey me thing.
It was hot as hell, having the person you were with hand over their power to you. That they trusted you enough to let you be in charge of their body. Their pleasure.
Lowering herself, she took him in that initial inch. Then another. Stopped to catch her breath and let her body become accustomed to his size.
And maybe to torment him. Just a little bit.
He was practically panting. His rising and falling chest glistening with sweat. The muscles of his thighs like iron beneath her.
Adjusting her angle, she slid down on him another inch. Slowly, slowly, lifted her hips up, then down. Her inner muscles quivered, as if seeking more of him, so she repeated the action. Again. And again. Whimpered at how good it felt, taking him this way in miniscule amounts, feeling herself stretch around him. How incredible it was to have nothing between them when he was so hot and hard, when she was so wet and swollen.
So incredible, she pressed her palms against his chest and straightened, taking him a little deeper. But not any faster. She kept the roll of her hips slow. Easy. Building their combined pleasure inch by slow inch.
Roll by slow roll.
His heartbeat pounded against her palms like a jackhammer. His pupils blown with lust, his teeth grinding together.
She ground down on him. Wiggled her hips in a way that had her breath quickening and his abs contracting as if he was fighting not to plunge up into her.
And she was a bad, bad girl because she liked it.
Liked seeing that same mix of pleasure and pain she was experiencing on his face. The same desperation growing in her belly glinting in his eyes. The same ravenous hunger clawing and snapping at her in the baring of his teeth.
She couldn’t wait to see how far she could push him before he broke.
She set a slow, undulating pace that had the tip of his cock hitting the perfect spot deep in her pussy.
“You’re being so good for me,” she murmured and felt his cock grow impossibly harder. “So good,” she repeated, moving her hands to his knees behind her, bracing her weight on her arms, her back arched, her breasts pushed forward as she took him deeper. Ground down on him each time a little harder. “Letting me fuck you this way. Letting me take care of you.”
His arms shook, but he didn’t touch her. Didn’t move despite every rigid line on his face, every tense muscle of his body telling her he wanted to do just that.
But he was close. She felt it in the way his cock pulsed inside her. Saw it in the harsh lines of his face. Heard it in the rough grunts that escaped his throat.
His hair stuck to his temples, his eyes were wild. “Come,” he ground out. “Now.”
“Did you forget our agreement?”
When he didn’t answer, she raised her eyebrows.
And went completely, utterly still.
He growled, the sound long and low and dangerous, like a cornered predator warning it could only be pushed so far.
She shivered in anticipation of when that would happen, but kept her voice even when she prodded, “Did you?”
Seething, mouth a thin line, he shook his head.
“Then you know there are only two things you can say. One of them is stop.” She leaned forward, laying her hands on his rigid shoulders and rocking her hips. “Is that what you want to say?”
Another shake of his head, this one quick and desperate.
She smiled and felt like a fucking queen wielding her power. “The other thing you’re allowed to say,” she continued, fucking him with long, slow movements, “is please.”
She pressed her face against the side of his neck. Inhaled the mixed smells of her floral body wash, his sweat, and the underlying musky scent that was his alone.
“Maybe that’s what you meant?” she murmured against his skin before licking him from the curve where his neck met his shoulder up to just below his ear, the salty taste of him sharp on her tongue. “You ready to beg me, Miles?”
He groaned, his hips lifting—another breech of her rules.
She nipped his earlobe, hard enough to sting, and he gasped, his entire body twitching.
“None of that now. You don’t have to do any of the work. I promise I’m going to take such good care of you.” To prove it, she took his earlobe in her mouth and laved it with her tongue, soothing the sting. “All you have to do is let me.”
Still working him in that steady pace, she slid her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and tugged his head back. Held his gaze. “There’s no need to hold back. You can come anytime you want.”
Another quick, defiant shake of his head before he spoke from between clenched teeth. “You first.”
Stubborn, stubborn man.
“This isn’t about me. This is about you.”
It was about him losing control. Oh, she was sure he’d claim he’d already done that when he’d coated her with his release, but even then, he’d held something back.
She wanted more.
She wanted it all. Everything he had to give her.
She kissed his neck, then straightened and once more set her hands on his shoulders. Lifted and lowered herself on his dick slow and easy. Let her eyes go half-mast with pleasure.
“You feel so good inside me,” she said, her voice a low purr. “I love that there’s nothing between us.”
“Fuuuccck,” he groaned, the word ripped from his throat as he tipped his head back. Squeezed his eyes shut.
“I love that you’re the first man, the only man, I’ve allowed to fuck me bare.”
“Need you to come,” he panted as he jerked his head upright, his hot gaze spearing hers. “Right… fucking… now.”
Combing her fingers through her damp hair, she kept her hands on top of her head, held his gaze as she rode him. “I can’t wait until you fill me. I can’t wait until you make a mess of me again.”
He made a strangled sound, as if he was choking on whatever words he was fighting to hold back.
Then finally, finally, gave her what she wanted.
“Please,” he grunted, rough and hoarse and not the least bit submissive. “Please, baby.”
“Hm. Not quite the docile pleading I was after,” she told him, ducking her head to kiss him. Whispered against his lips. “But I do really like when you call me baby. Almost as much as when you say please.”
“Baby, please let me touch you,” he said immediately.
She grinned and kissed him again. “No.”
Leaning forward, angling herself to take him deeper, she increased her pace. Rode him hard and fast, their bodies slapping together. Her budding pleasure squeezing tight in her core, there… right there… growing closer, but staying just out of reach thanks to those four earlier orgasms.
Her breathing turned ragged. Sweat coated her skin, had his shirt sticking to her. Her thighs ached. That pleasure intensified, turned sharp and biting.
She was close… so very, very close…
But she needed his help after all.
“Open,” she commanded, lifting her left breast.
His eyes flared, lighting with a desperate hunger before his lips parted. She guided her nipple into his mouth.
“Suck.”
He did, sucking her nipple through the cloth of his shirt. His mouth was hot and wet and exactly what she needed.
“More,” she panted, lifting and lowering her hips, slamming down on him again and again. “Harder.”
He groaned and attacked her nipple, his cheeks hollowing with how hard he sucked, pulling a matching tugging response in her pussy.
Just… a little… more…
Grabbing his hand, she jerked it to her mouth.
And he let her.
Let her lick the pad of his thumb. Let her lower his hand to her pussy. Press his thumb against her aching clit. Hold it steady there while she rocked against him.
He let her use his thumb, his dick, to get herself off.
In return for his obedience, she let him be a part of his own unraveling.
“That’s it,” she breathed as he scraped his teeth against her overly sensitive nipple. Bit down gently. She bucked against him. Bounced on his cock. Rotating her hips against that thumb. “That’s it. Good boy.”
He roared, the beast in him finally breaking free, her breast falling from his mouth as he tipped his head back, his eyes wide and on hers as he lost his fight.
His surrender, the feel of him shooting his release inside her, and the feral, possessive look in his eyes, had her body bowing as pleasure hurtled through her.
“Miles!” she cried, his name ripped from her throat like a secret wish she’d never dared asked for before.
At the sound of his name, he went wild. His cock swelled inside her, his hips surging up again and again, his movements jerky as he pumped into her like an animal in heat. Teeth bared, cords of his neck standing out in sharp relief, his gaze held hers through it all.
Any semblance of control she might have had was washed away by the combined intensity of their orgasms. And the truth that she no longer needed to hide who she was or what she wanted. She no longer needed to hide her feelings.
They were in this together.
And there was nowhere else she’d rather be than in this man’s arms.