12. Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Elsie
T here’s something about tonight that has me feeling bold.
Having Marshall come up behind me and wrap me in his arms to protect me was both aggravating and comforting.
And hot.
Maybe it’s outdated, but having a partner come to your rescue still sends a shiver down my spine.
Plus, I’ve hit the point in my pregnancy where morning sickness is no longer an issue, but instead, that daily problem is replaced by another.
One which makes me extremely horny.
The dreams started a few nights ago, visions of me and Marshall together, naked. Every one of them feels more vivid than the last, and everyone leaves me worked up and needy.
Tonight, I plan on doing something about it.
Hence, dragging Marshall through the club to find an empty bedroom where I can make all those dreams come true.
The room is simple but beautiful, with wainscotting on the walls, all painted a deep plum color. Every room is a little different, but we’ve luckily snuck our way into one with one of the industrial four-poster beds, built for tying or hooking up restraints and a myriad of other playtime aids.
I look around, see what the room has to offer, and see the dresser, where sheets and towels, along with other self-care items like wipes and water, are stored.
Nothing catches my eye that I might want to use tonight, though; I want this simple and fucking dirty.
“I said strip,” I repeat, annoyance growing.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Queen.” I correct. “Tonight, I’m your ruler, your queen.”
“Yes, my queen.” He says with a smirk. “Should I kneel as well?”
“Not yet. First, I want you naked.” I say, smiling up at him before taking a step back to enjoy the view.
Marshall takes his time undressing. He starts by, ever so practically, taking off his boots and socks before he lifts his shirt off in one smooth movement in that sexy way that men do.
His naked chest is a marvel. All of his muscles are on display, toned from years of hard labor. His tattoos are less visible in the dim lighting of the room, but their black ink beautifully contrasts his tan skin.
Then he reaches for the button on his pants and slowly undoes it. He lets the jeans fall open at his hips but makes no move to pull them down and reveal what I really want to see.
“You want me, Elsie? ”
I glare at him for breaking the moment by calling me by my first name.
“Take what you want, my queen.” He corrects, but his next words light me on fire. “I’m yours to use.”
A shiver rolls down my spine at the idea of using him for my pleasure. Having him underneath me while I ride his face, his cock.
“Off,” I say through panting breaths.
“As you command.” He teases back.
Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his briefs, he draws the remainder of his clothing down and off his legs and tosses them to the side.
“Much better,” I say coolly.
“You like what you see?” He asks, less teasing and more like he’s looking for validation.
I look up into his face, and even in the dim lighting of the bedroom, I can see the earnestness in his expression.
This man cares what I think of him, which is a terrifying thought to have. And a terrible power to hold.
There’s an ongoing internal battle between my two conflicting needs: my need for independence and my need for him.
My body craves him, but the tiny voice inside of me says that my soul does as well.
But right now isn’t the time to think about how souls intertwine. It’s time to focus on the physical instead.
The man before me is a sight to take in, his muscular thighs toned and tanned just like the rest of his body. The small trail of dark hair which leads down to the part of him I desire most right now, his cock .
Memories of how well he fills me spring to mind, and my pussy clenches at the promise of pleasure to come, and come and come, and come.
“My queen?” He asks, a little more tenderness in his voice than before like he’s waiting for a biting remark to come and hurt him.
But I could never do that to him.
Not this man.
“Yes.” I breathe out, letting my hands move forward to rest on his abs and trace the curves of each one. “I like it very much.”
One of Marshall’s hands comes to wrap around my own, and he looks down at me with such sincerity when he speaks. “What do you want, my queen?”
I hesitate for a moment, knowing nothing will happen tonight or ever if I don’t explicitly ask for it from him. But there’s a mental barrier to asking for what I need, one that I’m not fully prepared to face.
So, instead of asking for the intimacy I crave, I settle for the physical that I need.
“Get on the bed and lie down on your back.” He raises a dark eyebrow at me. “I’m going to ride your face until I come, then ride your cock until you do.”
“Fuck.” He moans, his head dropping back. “You’re wicked with your words, woman.”
When he doesn’t move quickly enough, I grab him by his dick and stroke him up and down his length. At my touch, his pupils blow wide, and I can see fireworks in his eyes.
“And your touch.” He groans out.
I love that I know what he likes and how to coax him to his edge .
One time together, or many depending on how you tally our night at Selene’s engagement party, taught me enough to know when he’s nearing his finish. And I memorized it well enough to know when to stop.
My gaze flicks between his cock and his face as I stroke him, loving the sight of both while I do. His face is open, lost in the pleasure of my touch, while his cock twitches in my hand as I stroke him.
“On the bed,” I whisper as I release his cock and push him away from me by the hip.
“Yes, my queen.” He murmurs.
Quickly, he climbs on the bed but looks back at me for further instructions.
“On your back for me, toy,” I instruct, which gets him to flip over and lay sprawled out on the bed.
When he’s settled, I climb up on the bed and make my way up his body to straddle his legs.
When I find a comfortable position on my knees, I take his cock in hand once more and lean down to kiss the tip.
The smallest of touches has his hips bucking up, already anticipating and needing me and my cunt.
“Not yet, toy.” I croon. “First, I’m going to play with you.”
I lean down and take the tip of his cock into my mouth. My sucking around his head causes a gasp to escape from his lips, and I relish in the shiver of pride it sends down my spine.
Pulling off his cock with a pop, I then blow a steady stream of air onto his now glistening tip, making him groan once again. Then, I dive in, taking his cock into my mouth fully.
I love giving blow jobs, and the rush of taking control of someone’s pleasure puts me on a high I can’t explain. I love taking him down my throat and sucking along his length as I back off. Each time I swallow him, he makes small sounds that encourage me to keep going. Every withdrawal has him begging for more.
I may be on my knees for him, but he’s not the one in control right now.
I am.
After a few minutes, I can tell he’s holding back. He’s dug his fingers into the sheets, trying his best not to reach for my head and take control. But he’s unable to control the little thrusts of his hips that drive his cock deeper down my throat until I’m gagging on him.
“Please.” He whimpers, but I don’t relent.
I keep going with my ministrations and bob up and down his length, swallowing him whole and pulling off him in a steady rhythm. My tongue swirls around his head, teasing him each time I give him a break from the tightness of my throat.
“Please, my queen.” He tries again, his voice more desperate this time.
This time, when I pull back, I let my teeth lightly graze against his shaft and head until I’ve fully released him.
“Let’s see if you’re as good with your tongue as I am, then. Shall we?” I smirk.
“Yes.” He sighs. “Please, I need to taste you.”
I can already tell how wet I am just from giving him a blow job, my thighs sticky as they rub together while I crawl up his body.
When I reach his shoulders, I stand up so I can position myself over his face and begin to lower myself.
“If you need to breathe, just tap my leg three times,” I tell him.
“I won’t, my queen.” He pants, his gaze fixated on my cunt as I lower myself to my knees. “Use me as your throne. ”
I smile. “My pleasure.”
“As it should be.” He says, grasping my hips and pulling me down.
Before I’m even fully settled on his face, his tongue is already reaching for my pussy to lick through my center. The feeling of his rough tongue on my sensitive folds already has me moaning in pleasure, and I wiggle to settle myself comfortably on his face as he begins to eat me out.
When his tongue finds my opening, his nose finds itself in the perfect position right by my clit. A zap of energy shoots through my body at the contact, and I lift ever so slightly in shock.
Marshall takes a quick breath, but just as fast, he’s already pulling me down to bury himself in my cunt once again. He uses his tongue to lick at and thrust into my channel, driving my need higher with each movement.
Soon enough, I’m grinding against his face. His tongue is in my pussy, and his nose hits my clit with each rock of my hips. Every ounce of his attention is entirely devoted to my pleasure, which keeps climbing with each second.
His fingers dig into my flesh hard enough to leave bruises, and I know he’s likely in need of air.
But I’m so close, so close, to my release that I don’t care.
He’s mine to use for my pleasure, and I intend on dragging every second out of it that I can.
I keep going, my hips moving at a more desperate pace than before as I feel the peak of my orgasm approaching. I bear down on him, my hands flying to the headboard to keep me upright as I grind into his face.
By the way, his legs are bouncing beneath me, I know he’s desperate for air. But he hasn’t tapped out, so I keep going.
Then, he licks up from my core and presses the flat of his tongue up on my clit, and I crash.
Electricity rolls through me, frying every nerve in my body and making me cry out. The orgasm feels like it rolls on forever as I continue to grind against his tongue, which he holds in place for me.
I release the headboard and fall forward, the shocks of energy still making my body shudder in a pleasure that borders on pain.
Marshall is beneath me, sucking in air as fast as he can before letting his breath out again so he can try and fill his lungs.
As my orgasm is starting to fade, I push myself up using the headboard and shakily walk down the side of the bed with the help of the bar above me.
When I let go, I fall to my knees, my pussy perfectly lined up with where his cock stands at attention, and begin to rock against it.
Marshall cries out through his desperate gasps of air, and his hips buck up into me, causing his cock to bury between my folds and press against my clit that’s hidden between my full lower lips.
I rock against him as his hips buck, and on occasion, his tip brushes against my entrance, making my need to be filled even more prominent in my mind.
Unable to pull myself upright, I slide up his body slightly and grind back down again so his tip finds my opening and slips in this time.
“Fuck!” Marshall screams as I let out a sigh of relief.
What feels like heaven to me must be a torturous hell for him, but he doesn’t ask me to stop. He doesn’t use the safe word we agreed upon many months ago .
Instead, I push back on his cock, and he thrusts his hips up, helping drive his length further into me.
The fullness is overwhelming every one of my senses. My eyes fall closed, and all sound tunes out as all of my focus trains on the pleasure of having him inside of me.
Gathering my strength, I push myself up using his muscular chest so I can impale myself further on his length. I can’t bring myself to lift my hips yet, but I am able to rock my hips in a pattern that helps open me up to take in more of him.
Marshall is beneath me, noises escaping from his lips that don’t sound like they belong to him. He squirms and writhes on the bed as I ride him, but he still doesn’t ask me to stop. His hands finally release their death grip on the mattress and fly to my hips, drawing me up so I’m hovering above him with his cock only halfway in.
There’s no relief on his face, though.
Instead, he quickly adjusts his position, digging his feet firmly into the mattress and thrusting up with his hips so he fills me completely again.
His abs ripple and tighten under my touch, shocking me into moving them so I’m holding myself up on the mattress instead of him.
Where his fingers dig into my thick thighs, I’ll indeed have bruises, but I don’t care at all. I want them, need them even.
Each thrust into me somehow feels deeper than the last. His cock is at the perfect angle to rub against my front wall where I’m most sensitive, and the sensation has another orgasm building in me once again.
Soon, his thrusts grow erratic, though no less harsh or pleasurable .
“Fuck.” He pants out between strokes. “I’m going to come, my queen. Please, can I come?”
His tone is high and pleading, making my body melt into him.
“I need to give you my cum. I need to fill you up. Give you everything.” He begs. “Let me cum inside you. Let me... I need to... Fuck!”
His whole face is pinched with the pain of holding back his orgasm as he forces himself into me deeper and harder than before.
“Need to give you my cum.” He groans through gritted, grinding teeth. “Breed you. Breed. Fuck! Breed you.”
My orgasm is close but still so far away. So, I help him by reaching down to rub my clit and get myself there.
One of his hands reaches out to grip my breast to the point of pain as the other knocks away my fingers from my clit and replaces them with his own. His fingers mirror my own pace I had set, but he presses firmer into my clit.
“Gonna have my baby. Be my baby mama.” He forces out just as I’m nearing my peak. “Please. Come. Let me come.”
I throw my head back as my orgasm rushes at me. It’s slower this time, less forceful, but somehow more powerful, and I scream, clawing at Marshall’s chest.
“Please.” He sobs as my walls flutter around him. “Gonna be a mama. My mama. My... Mine .”
The growl in his voice, the sheer possessiveness to his words, sends another sudden orgasm through my body, and I collapse against him.
“Come for me, daddy.” I pant out as his erratic thrusts slam into me. “Come for Mama.”
His breath stops, and he crunches up with a twisted look on his face .
Then I feel it, the flood of cum inside me and dripping down my thighs.
His hips fall down, but mine follow with them to stay impaled on his cock. His arms wrap around me and pull me down, so I fall with him as he relaxes into the mattress.
A breath whooshes rapidly in and out of our lungs, and we search for every ounce of oxygen in the room.
Every time my walls flutter around him, he sighs in contentment.
We lay there like that for a while, just taking in air and feeling the heat of our bodies together.
Every bone in my body feels like melted goo. I couldn’t move from where I’m wrapped in his arms if I wanted to.
The joke’s on me because I don’t.
I don’t want to move.
I’m exactly where I should be.