“Let’s see if you like it,” he said, his voice still low in his throat.
He touched the entrance to her core, not her ass, and slowly pushed his thick finger inside her. It slipped in easily.
“So wet,” he said, stroking her inside. “My little pet likes it rough. Duly noted.”
Gen was pretty sure Arthur already knew that, but hearing him say it made her feel small and vulnerable like he might feel free to get even rougher.
Her pussy clenched around his finger, and she almost came at the thought.
He pulled his finger out of her—his rough skin dragging on hers—and rubbed his slippery finger over her clit. Waves shivered up her, and she pushed back against his finger, trying to make him stroke her inside again.
Instead, the wet and cool thing nudged her ass.
His thumb slipped underneath and slipped between her folds, near her clit.
Arthur whispered, “Push back, pet.”
She did, and the thing nudged into her ass. Her body resisted, tightening.
When she moved back, his thumb rubbed lower, nearer her clit.
Her core tightened.
His voice lowered and was harsher. “Take it.”
Gen pushed back farther, and the tip slipped inside her. Her ass ached, but his thumb rubbed lower, almost to her clit. Her core tightened, closer to orgasm.
“More,” he said.
Gen rocked forward a little, letting the thing withdraw a bit, then pushed back harder. The thing drove farther inside her, a slow burn, but his thumb dragged across her clit.
She gasped at the swift bolt of pleasure through the burn.
“Good, pet,” he said. “More.”
Gen rocked, taking more of the thing with each stroke, while his thumb rubbed her hard nub between her folds.
When the thing pressed into her ass, it burned, but each stroke when he pulled the thing out of her was a slow friction of bliss. Her body clenched, nearing orgasm, and she gasped.
Arthur took his thumb away from her clit and pushed her down on the dresser, pulsing the thing until it slid all the way in, her muscular ring catching the post.
Gen panted, holding onto the dresser because her legs wobbled. Her body thrummed, so close to release. “Arthur, please.”
“No, pet,” he murmured, bending over her and kissing her shoulder. “Not yet. You’re being punished.”
“What?”
“Stand up, pet.” She wasn’t sure how that was going to work because the thing was still in her butt, so she pushed off the dresser with her arms, gingerly letting her weak legs take her weight.
The base was soft, maybe silicone, and didn’t poke her buttcheeks. Outside, it just kind of felt like a panty wedgie.
But inside, she felt fullness, like if it would just move inside her, pump into her a little more, she could come.
“Walk to me, pet.”
Gen held onto the dresser, panting. “Arthur, I can’t.”
“Of course you can, pet,” he said, stepping away from her. “Turn around, and come with me.”
She held onto the dresser as she pivoted in her heels.
Arthur was only a few steps away, and he held out his hand to her, palm up, fingers stretching.
Gen took a step on trembling legs, and her ass rubbed around the thing as she walked, almost like she was being screwed but not enough. Her high heels shook under her feet.
She grabbed his hand in the air and stepped close to him.
“Good, pet,” he said, his blue-silver eyes blazing. He fixed her dress, straightening the straps and tucking her boobs back in with care as if she were his little doll. He brushed the hem of her skirt, straightening it over her ass, and smoothed her hair. “Come with me.”
Gen held onto his arm as they walked, slowly, from his bedroom. She caught a glance of herself in his mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were too bright. His bite on her shoulder was turning pale pink.
Outside, in the hallway, Arthur gestured to a painting of a stern woman wearing a dark blue dress. “This portrait of my several times-great aunt, the Countess Kate, is from the seventeen hundreds,” he began.
When he glanced at Gen, his dark pupils were expanded in his pale eyes, and his lips were soft and pink from kissing her.
Her body thrummed.
Gen leaned against his side, and he wrapped his arm around her. He whispered, “Good girl.”
Her pulse galloped at his breath on her shoulder.
Arthur detailed several paintings as they strolled by, discussing the historical significance of the person depicted or of the painting itself.
His hand stroked her side, his thumb bumping over her soft chub through the thin fabric of the dress.
People drifted by as they walked. Staff members were dusting the tops of the painting’s frames or sculpture they passed, but when they saw that he was giving her a tour of the art, they scurried off.
During a moment when no one was on the landing with them, Arthur crowded her back into a niche between hallways. He spun, bringing his own back against the wall, and his strong arm clamped around her waist, holding her to him. He kissed her, his mouth hot on hers.
She clung to him as Spencer House swung around her dizzy head.
When he broke it off, she whispered, “I think I’m okay.”
He said, “I want you to be good, pet. I want you to be wonderful.”
“No, I mean—” She stepped to the side, turning him like they were dancing. “—I think I’m okay with this.”
The wall was hard behind her own back, and he was standing in her only line of escape, far too big to push past.
Gen told him, “I’m okay.”
Arthur’s eyes flared, and he smiled a sultry, devilish smile. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Repeat your safewords.”
“Amber and red,” she said, a flush of control running through her. Amber and red.
He caught her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her head, stretching her against the wall. “Good?”
“Wonderful.” She was a little breathless, dying to know what he was going to do.
He kissed her, his mouth hard on hers and pulling at her lips.
His hand crept up her leg, first on her thigh, and then he grabbed her ass. His hand circled around to the front, and his fingers slipped against her clit.
He broke off the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. “I wasn’t going to let you come for another hour or so, but you’ve been such a good girl, pet. How can I resist?”
He held her there, her wrists trapped above her head and his hand under her skirt, while his fingers rubbed over the tense point of her clit and back into her pussy. He stroked, back and forth, over her and into her.
Gen gasped, her head thrown back against the wall. She couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t whimper and couldn’t moan, because any of his staff might be just around the corner, dusting the picture frames.
Arthur pressed more deeply into her, slipping his fingers inside her and rubbing. The butt thing pushed against his fingers, and as he drove her closer to orgasm, the thing filled her up from behind. His fingers rubbed inside her, and the tension broke into a pulse that rocketed up her spine to her head.
She clenched her hands, still locked in his hand above her head, into fists so she wouldn’t scream as the waves ran up her body.
Arthur released her hands. She sagged against him, her arms falling over his shoulders, but he caught her up in his arms and held her against his chest. She buried her face in his shoulder and panted as the waves ran through her.
She rolled her head and pressed her lips to his neck above his collar.
“Still all right?” he asked.
She whispered, “Oh, my God. Do it again.”
He adjusted his arms to hold her closer. “Good girl.”
When her legs would support her weight, Arthur peeked out of the niche, and they resumed the tour.
Dampness clung between her l
egs, and every step rubbed her excruciatingly sensitive folds together.
The thing in her butt rubbed her inside as she walked, sending little pulses through her.
When they reached the door to Arthur’s room again, he guided her inside because she was still reeling from his hands on her.
In there, he pushed her down over the dresser again, and Gen complied like the submissive little fucktoy that she was. She didn’t want to question him. She didn’t want to know what was going to happen. She just wanted to feel and to be this new, different, and unafraid thing she had become.
After all, toys aren’t afraid. Toys aren’t ashamed.
More plastic crinkled behind her, and a box popped open. Beside where her cheek was pressed to the dresser, Arthur’s hand picked up the tube with the gel in it.
He rubbed her back with his other hand, and Gen relaxed onto the dresser.
She closed her eyes.
Her ass was still in the air, perched high because her stiletto Louboutin pumps pushed her butt up.
The thing in her butt tugged and slid backward, a long, slow slide of pleasure, and it was gone.
She felt empty and collapsed, like after sex.
Arthur whispered, “Breathe.”
Gen relaxed further, willing her body to flop like a sex doll.
Again, cold wetness touched her butt. It slipped farther inside.
And it kept pushing inside her, farther, and bigger.
He pumped it gently, burn and pleasure over and over, until she was panting again, letting him have her body and her mind.
It was bigger and harder than the first one, a deeper penetration and bigger stretch, filling her.
Gen held onto the dresser as Arthur slid it until it finally popped inside, and the soft end touched her butt cheeks.
“It’s beautiful,” Arthur said, his voice breathy.
She looked back over her shoulder again. His silvery-blue eyes were bright, and he was breathing deeply.
Damn, Arthur really liked seeing that sliding into her ass.
Oh, she knew how this night was going to end.
Gen pushed herself up, sturdier on her feet this time, and tugged her skirt down. “Show me the art.”
Arthur offered her his elbow. “Right this way.”
He walked her around the other wing of the landing, pointing out paintings and pushing her into niches for scalding kisses.
His body was practically vibrating with energy, and when no one was around, he pushed her against a wall and reached under her skirt to stroke her clit and push the thing just a half an inch deeper inside her.
Her body was revving up again, and Gen began watching for the little alcoves Arthur was going to shove her into, anticipating it. She followed him like a wraith with no will of her own, letting him kiss her and fuck her with his fingers. She was quivering, dying for the next moment when he would run his thumb across her clit or kiss her while he squeezed her nipple until the sting became hard pleasure.
His bedroom door rose in front of them again, and Arthur pulled her inside, kissed her hard, and told her, “Just one more. Just one more, larger one, then you’ll be ready.”
He bent her over the dresser again, shoving Gen down and pulling the thing out in one smooth slip that left her gasping.
Empty, too empty, and she wanted him to fill her up, harder.
Rustling plastic, the pop of a box opening, and he grabbed at the tube on the dresser.
The cold and hard thing again nudged her ass, and he whispered, “Relax and push against it.”
Gen was a nothing of nothing, a body to be done to, and she relaxed so he could push it into her.
The thing was tapered, so the invasion wasn’t startling. She was open and vulnerable to it. The thing kept going, pushing deeper and thicker inside her, and she panted.
Her fingers grappled at the edge of the dresser.
On and on, and he slid it out and in, deeper and harder and bigger, and it seated inside her.
He pulled her up by her shoulders, and his mouth came down on hers. He kissed her like he was starving, like he was almost out of control. He grabbed her thigh and wrapped her leg around his waist so he could run his fingers through her folds and almost bring her to the edge again.
He whispered, “Last one, then I can have you.”
Damn, that was sexy.
Arthur walked her outside to the paintings, and this turn of the extensive art collection within Spencer House involved only a few notes about paintings and sculpture.
They passed staff people cleaning and working, bustling around in the ancient manor house.
Her legs rubbed together, the dampness slicking her thighs and her sensitive folds. The butt thing filled her like Arthur was taking her right there.
She wasn’t walking around after having sex.
She was walking around in the middle of sex, while he was having her, walking around the house and among the staff while being fucked but they didn’t know it.
It wasn’t humiliating.
It was the naughtiest, dirtiest thing ever, far more so than mere scruffing in a niche or a car in public. She was a submissive little fucktoy who didn’t have to ask and who didn’t have to worry, and nothing could ever be better.
Lots of alcoves jutted out off of the main corridor, and he shoved her into every one of them. His hands gripped her skin, tight on her arms and hips and thighs, and his mouth was hot on her neck. He scraped his teeth over her shoulders, marking her raw skin, and she leaned into his mouth. He slid his rough fingers inside her and against that fat thing filling her ass and pumped until she was gritting her teeth, teetering on the edge of orgasm, but he pulled his fingers out and left her trembling against his shoulder before he made her walk farther.
The tall, double door to his bedroom loomed ahead.
Three paintings separated them from the door, and Arthur pressed her to his side and walked past them.
Inside, he picked her up in his arms, kicked the door closed, and strode to the bed. He dumped her on the sheets and stripped off his clothes, hopping as he struggled to shove his shoes off.
Gen pushed herself up on her elbows. Submissive sextoy or not, naked-Arthur was always an impressive sight.
His shirt fell to the floor, baring the multiple bulges of his shoulders and arms and the ripples of his abs. The watercolor tattoo flowed blue and red over his back, down his arms, and under the waistband of his pants.
He unbuckled his belt and jerked open his pants, shoving them down his slim hips and long, muscular thighs.
One of the tendrils of ink wrapped around his waist and trickled down the deep vee of muscle over his groin. His cock was already hard and erect, tight and curving slightly back against his belly.
In seconds, he was naked and scrambling onto the bed at her.
Gen fell back, limp, and Arthur’s skin slipped over her as he grabbed her, shoving her underneath himself.
He kissed her hard, pushing his tongue into her mouth and grabbing at her flesh. Gen writhed under him, wrapping her legs and arms around him and trying to impale herself on his erection.
Arthur pulled away and grabbed her shoulder to flip her over on her stomach.
He struggled backward. Gen looked back. He found another tube and some other things in his nightstand drawer, and he turned back and grabbed her hips, yanking her into the air.
Gen crouched, her ass in the air and that thing still in there.
Arthur said, “If you want to use your safewords, do it now.”
She said, “I’m yours.”
Arthur groaned and eased the last, biggest plug out of her butt, stroking her ass with it as he did, getting her used to that, too.
The burn going in and the sweet relief and ecstasy pulling out spun her head again, and she moaned.
He pulled it out, and she was open and empty.
Her breath caught in her throat.
A wet sound, like skin slapping skin, flapped behind her. This time, the thing nudgi
ng her asshole was warm and wet.
Gen grabbed the sheets in her fists.
Arthur held her hips and pushed the head of his cock inside her, a pinch of pain as he slid inside, and a long, deep burn.
He was thicker than the plugs, and she stretched around him. Gen panted, taking him in like a submissive fucktoy.
Let him have her. Let him fuck her hard.
He slid inside her ass, so long and deep inside her, and she ached inside.
His pelvis touched her butt cheeks, and he slowly pulled back.
Pleasure shivered up her spine with each inch that he pulled back, moments lengthening into long breaths.
He held her hips, pressing in slowly and pulling out even slower. She could hear Arthur’s deep breaths as he fought for control.
His hands left her hips. One strong arm wrapped her waist as he plunged into her, and he hauled her body up so she was kneeling in front of him. Gen reached behind her head, grabbing his shoulders to steady herself. His arm moved up, gripping across her chest and shoulder to pin her body to his chest.
He grabbed something off the bed and reached under her, between her legs.
Gen gave herself up to him.
He fucked her ass from behind, and he pushed a hard thing against her clit.
It roared against her, shivering against her skin and clit. Her body clenched, tightening until she was a shaking knot of need. The vibrator shoved harder. His cock pushed deeper into her ass and throbbed inside her, and the tension cracked.
Her whole body pulsed in a deep orgasm that blasted through her, every nerve singing. Pulses shivered in her core and drove outward, filling her. Long, deep rushes like soaring through the sky and drifting downward spun her, and she gasped and shook in his arms.
Behind her, Arthur jerked inside her and spent himself, falling on her but holding himself up so he wouldn’t crush her. He pulled out of her and stripped off the condom, knotting it and throwing it in a wastepaper basket.
Gen was shaking, a wretched mess, and she curled into his chest. He held her, his arms strong around her. Tears wet her eyes.
He asked, aghast, “Why didn’t you use your safeword?”
“I didn’t want to. Oh, God, Arthur. Oh, my God. I never knew. I never knew to want it.”
Arthur cradled her in his arms, rocking her. “Good, pet. Good girl. You’re mine. You’re all mine.”
Hard Liquor: Runaway Billionaires: Arthur Duet #2 Page 18
