"Please sir, please make me cum, please fuck me, please-please-please I can't take any more!"
I open my eyes when I beg him, looking into his. He's breathing as hard as I am and his pupils are huge and I can see my own reflection in them; my bound and sweaty body, my tear-stricken face, the near-desperation in them.
Yan takes my face in his hands. "I'm going to get these clamps off you first sweetheart… hang on tight."
He releases the first one and I scream as the blood comes rushing back in a blaze of piercing pain, but Yan's mouth is right there to sooth it, softly sucking and massaging my breast until the worst of it is gone. He moves to my second clamp to remove it and again tenderly sucks and rubs on the abused tissues, taking the sharp edge away from the pain, leaving me to bask in the deep heavenly warmth of it.
"Now show me how much you want me to fuck you." He says that as he straightens up to cover my mouth with his and I open wide for his tongue when it plunges in pouring my heart and soul and need into this kiss, taking and giving in equal measures. But he's not playing fair and he's rubbing his body against mine, torturing my caned skin and tormented nipples with his coarse body hair, his heavily erect dick pressing hard into my soft tummy and I start crying, begging him in between desperate sobs.
"Pleeeeeaaaaaase sir, please-please-please I can't take anymore, please fuck me already…!"
He presses even harder into me and takes another deep taste of my mouth before slowly breaking apart from me and without a word crouches and releases my ankles from the cross. Still crouching, he grabs my legs and brings first one knee up and over his shoulder, then the other, and slowly raises himself upright. I am bent in half between the wall and him, my arms still tied up, my legs over his shoulders, my ass pressed into his belly, his right arm wrapped tightly around my back to help support my weight. With a half-smile, half-grimace he reaches back with his left arm to pick up the Magic Wand and drops it onto our joint laps, murmuring into my ear "I think this could come in handy".
He then pulls his hips back a couple of inches, and uses his left hand to guide his cock in between our bodies until it is poised at my sopping, clenching entrance, and slowly slides me down onto his straining erection, impaling me on it inch by inch, letting us both savor the tight stretch of my slippery inner folds around his hot, throbbing dick. The plug that's filling my ass makes it an even tighter fit but with all the pussy cream and pre-cum lubricating me he only needs to let gravity pull me down, all the way down until our pubes are fused together and we both throw our heads back at the same time.
"AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!"
I'm not sure which one of us cries out — maybe it's both of us — but I cannot dwell on the thought because as soon as he's fully buried inside of me Yan leans forward and starts grinding his pelvis into mine in a slow circular movement, creating unbelievably deep pulling and stretching sensations all the way deep in my very core. It's phenomenal and it's excruciatingly intense… and there's no way I could cum like this.
"Ohmygod sir please, please, PLEEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE!!!"
His left hand comes up to my face and caresses my tear-stricken cheek as our eyes meet.
"All right my darling. You've been such a good girl for me tonight; I'm going to make you cum now. But I want you to keep your eyes open. I want to see your eyes when you cum, all right love?"
I can't get the words fast enough out of my mouth. "Yes sir, yes sir, yes sir, oh please!!!"
Yan grabs hold of the Hitachi in his left hand and turns it on and then pushes it down between our sleek bellies, right onto my engorged clit and I scream, really scream loud and high at the top of my lungs, the intense, sudden pleasure making everything clench — my pussy around Yan's cock, my anus around the glass plug, my abs into my womb — and I buck and thrash around with it, unable to absorb it quietly.
Yan growls at me through clenched teeth and pushes me back to the cross, grabbing hold of the beams with his hands locking my body between his solid torso and the unyielding wall and cross behind me. My legs slip down from his shoulders to hook over his bent elbows, opening my pussy a little further and making the wand burrow even deeper between the open folds, and then Yan starts fucking me for real.
There's no slow build-up, and none is needed — instead it's an all-out crazy race for the finish line. Yan's hips slam into my ass and the back of my thighs with every wild thrust, his heavy balls slap the base of my butt plug, his cock relentlessly piercing my swollen pussy bottoming out on each and every stroke while the vibe presses hard into my clit. The muscles in his arms and chest bulge with his effort and his skin is as flushed as mine, the cords in his neck and the veins in his forehead straining with the building tension.
He looks wild. Like a wild beast ravaging me. Oh my god how I love seeing him like that!
I am just as sweaty and flushed as him and my cries of joy fill the room as I feel myself build up and up and up, so high I'm suddenly afraid to let go, the tension making my whole body tremble, radiating in waves around me. I forget to breathe.
His voice is urgent and hoarse when he grunts at me, still fucking me ferociously: "Eyes on me! Breathe and let go, my darling. Cum for me. Cum for me love… C'mon, that's right, let go…"
The storm outside intensifies, lightning explodes and then sparkles in the windows like fireworks while thunder roars in its wake, and with another loud, high-pitched scream I cum, and cum, and cum, my eyes locked with Yan's, my juices gushing and flooding the area where our bodies are joined and then trickling down the fronts of Yan's thighs.
My husband, in turn, shouts his own pleasure loud and hoarse in my ear, crushes me even harder into the cross behind me and grinds into me as if to get as deep as he can go, and then I feel him swell inside of me, shudder, growl and bite hard into the muscle between my neck and my shoulder as he starts shooting his cum deep inside of me, adding his own creamy juice to the already drenched, pulsating flesh.
The slippery mess between us, coupled with our sharp spasms and convulsions, had thankfully dislodged the Hitachi from my clit — I don't think I could bear it after my overwhelming orgasm when it becomes so extremely over-sensitized. Yan slumps against me, pinning me to the wall with his weight to relieve some of the burden from his arms. He releases my right leg, letting it fall down to the floor, and grabs the vibe with his freed hand before it rolls down too. Shutting it off, he releases my other leg and leans into me, still breathing heavily, taking a moment to get his feet under him before pushing back, finally allowing me to breathe easy, to fill my lungs with sweet, cool air.
He places the toy back on the horse and returns to me, reaching up to quickly untie my wrists from the cross and catching me around the waist when my knees buckle under me. He slowly lets us both down to sit on the towel that is spread out at the foot of the cross, leaning his own back to the wall and cradling me in his arms.
I fidget a little and Yan looks concerned when he searches my eyes. I shrug and admit with some embarrassment: "The plug is still inside of me sir…" He tries hiding his surprised bark of a laugh with a cough and is quick to appease me when I give him a nasty look. "Sorry love, let me help relieving you of that…" and he reaches down and takes firm hold of the base and waits for me to breathe and relax before carefully extracting it in a slow, measured pull, leaving it discarded on the towel next to us.
We sit there for a long, long time, neither one of us speaking, just listening to the rain outside gently tapping against the windows now that the worst of the storm had passed. My head is tucked under his chin and my ear is pressed to his warm, damp chest and I hear his heartbeat slow down to normal, the soothing rhythm and the security of his arms around me lulling me to sleep.
Chapter 9
He wakes me up from my brief doze with a soft kiss to my crown and a low murmur into my hair: "Come love, let's get cleaned up and go to sleep…"
I nod and he helps me up to my feet before raising himself and we walk hand in hand to the shower to wash togethe
r briefly, just getting the worst of the stickiness off our bodies and quickly toweling off. Walking up the stairs to the sleeping loft I feel his hand at the small of my back, his fingers barely caressing the swell of my ass and I smile to myself, loving his small gestures of ownership.
We slip together under the cool crisp sheets — "our set", the one Rye keeps and makes the bed with just for us every time he lends us his playroom, bless his heart — and cuddle close.
"I love you Nadya. Thank you for having me as your Dom, and thank you for tonight."
"I love you too, sir. Thank you for having me as your sub… Happy birthday."
About Anne A. Lois
Anne is a real small-town girl from a sunny corner of the world, who loves writing romantic naughty stories. Her fantasies are realistic and her characters' feelings are authentic, and she cares very deeply about them, even when they mess up and steer her stories in surprising directions!
Other than writing, Anne is busy with raising her four kids, working as a tech consultant, and teaching gymnastics for extra fun. She likes to keep in touch with her readers, fans and friends via Facebook, at https://www.facebook.com/AnneA.LoisAuthor.
Other Books by Anne A. Lois
Lucky Bastard
A Kinky Romance Novella
(Coach Rye Series Book 1)
Whiskey and Rye (coming soon)
A BDSM Romance Novel
(Coach Rye Series Book 2)
Tenderloin
A Menage/BDSM Erotic Fantasy
The Darker Side of Love
A dark erotica boxed set
The More The Merrier
A Menage / Erotica boxed set
The Rite
by
Jennifer Bene
Text copyright © 2015 Jennifer Bene
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
There aren’t enough thanks in the world for every person who has made this possible. Every reader on Amazon and on Lit, every author I’ve had the fortune to chat with and get to know, and my amazing editor who encourages me (even with all my dark and twisty) and helps me get better with every chapter I write!
Chapter One
February 11th
“Heather, you can’t keep waiting around like the perfect someone is just going to fall into your lap.”
The weather was frigid, but there was no way Heather was sitting inside the packed coffee shop with Theresa. Loud, insane, Theresa? She didn’t exactly play nice in public. Ever. The metal tables along the sidewalk were empty, because no one else was dumb enough to sit outside in February. But most people didn’t have a cousin like Theresa who didn’t know the meaning of whispering. Before she could even take a sip of her coffee, Theresa was starting in on her again.
Would running into traffic be too dramatic to avoid talking about this?
“Come on, just look for someone!” There she goes. Theresa leaned back in her chair as she sat down and took a long, judgmental sip of her Starbucks. Her cousin was never going to drop this. You just need to find that one guy, the right guy will come along — blah, blah, blah. The smell of her own mocha, whipped, something-or-other was tempting her, but Heather didn’t know how long her stomach would hold out in this conversation. It was only the, oh, five hundredth time they’d had it? Gag.
“I’m just fine, Theresa.” Heather finally gave in to the temptation and took a drink of her coffee. It was delicious, and warm, and gave her a way to avoid talking while she looked across the street at everyone bundled in coats and scarves. The sky looked heavy with the promise of snow, but the weather wouldn’t be a good change of topic. Maybe she could bring up the Kardashians, or something else in pop culture? She should watch TMZ just for situations like this. Shiny things distracted Theresa.
“Seriously, Heather? Just go on a date! With anyone and get it over with!” Theresa groaned and snapped her fingers in front of Heather’s face, dragging her gaze back to her beautiful cousin and away from the gray sky. Theresa rolled her eyes, “Are you even listening to me?”
“Unfortunately, yes, I am listening. And it’s not that easy and you know it.” Heather sighed. She really did not want to discuss this. All the hearts and chubby cupids in diapers and glitter on every shop window must have scrambled Theresa’s brain. Valentine’s Day? Really? Of all the fake holidays for people to celebrate with such reckless abandon, they had to pick one that involved shoving romance down the throats of unsuspecting single people everywhere?
“What’s not easy? Finding a date? Be serious, Heather. You’re beautiful. You’re smart. You could have any guy you want. Just pick one!” Theresa dramatically waved her arms around, causing a few pedestrians to stare. Heather had specifically chosen to sit outside in below-freezing weather to avoid a scene with her lovely cousin.
Mission? Failed.
“I. Do. Not. Need. A. Guy.” Heather enunciated like Theresa had English as a second language, but even that would likely not make it through her thick skull. Theresa understood subtlety about as well as fish understood hiking.
“So, you’re perfectly fine being like this for the rest of your life?” Theresa’s eyes rolled so hard Heather was surprised they found their way back to her to glare judgmentally.
“I don’t want to just find some guy. You make it sound like it’s simple, and it’s not.”
“I know that I handled it just fine, and that was six years ago. I was nineteen! You’re twenty—four!” Theresa’s phone dinged and she grabbed it from the table, mumbling under her breath as she tapped away.
Ah, yes. Theresa was such a go—getter. Go, Theresa! Such a good member of the family.
“Exactly. I am twenty—four, Theresa. Which means I’m an adult. A full-grown, fully-adult woman, who can make her own decisions. You seriously do not need to keep talking to me like I’m some lost lamb! I’m perfectly happy!” Heather grabbed her coffee from the table, hoping the heat would seep through her gloves to her frigid fingers.
“Would you rather it be me talking to you, or Aunt Marguerite?” Theresa tilted her head, her dark brown curls tumbling over her shoulder. She had their family’s trademark brown hair and blue eyes, like Caribbean water. Somehow those traits, and her total carefree attitude towards men, had skipped Heather’s DNA completely. With dirty blond hair and brown eyes, Heather had been convinced as a child that she’d been adopted, but since her Aunt Carol had actually helped birth her there was unfortunately no denying her familial connections. Aunt Marguerite, on the other hand, hadn’t missed a single molecule of the Pritchett family inheritance. She was forty-six, but barely looked thirty. Brown hair, blue eyes. A powerful art dealer who spent most of her time in New York, but habitually returned to Cambridge, Massachusetts to harass the next generation of Pritchett women. Oh, and she still took men home like she was running a youth hostel out of her bedroom.
Heather definitely didn’t want to have the man conversation with her Aunt Marguerite.
“Why does anyone have to talk to me, Theresa?! I said I’m fine!” Heather sat her cup down a little harder than necessary and shoved her hands under her arms to try and warm them.
“Because everyone is talking about it. About… you.” For once Theresa actually seemed reserved as she replied.
Wait, everyone?
“What do you mean ‘everyone’, Theresa?” Heather stared at her cousin as Theresa seemed to do everything in her power to look at anyone but her. Apparently the bus next to them advertising a new TV show was suddenly more interesting than their conversation. “The
resa! Tell me what you mean!”
“Oh my God, fine!” She sat her own cup down and threw her hands up. Steam was still coiling out of the top of her cup and Heather glared enviously at the warm coffee. “The whole family is worried that you’re not going to bloom, which means that we may not have everything we need next month.”
“Elaborate.” Heather felt a headache coming on, which usually happened when she was talking to Theresa, but it seemed particularly focused behind her right eye at the moment.
“You work at the shop, Heather. You know exactly what I’m talking about!” When Heather just continued to stare at her Theresa continued with an exaggerated sigh, “Total solar eclipse? On the vernal equinox? Super rare combination of events in the Northern Hemisphere where we have an opportunity to expand our power exponentially? ANY of this ringing any bells, or do you seriously ignore everything that happens around you all the time?”
“None of that has anything to do with me.” Heather started fortifying her internal walls against the verbal assault she knew was going to come. She’d been fighting off these discussions since she’d hit puberty.
“What?!” Theresa screeched, once again attracting the attention of everyone within a hundred yards. “It has everything to do with you! God, Heather, you’re so — so — so selfish!”
“That is the opposite of what I am, Theresa!” Her voice was too loud for the crowded sidewalk, and she snapped her mouth shut. A shiver washed over her and she tried to hide her chattering teeth, but Theresa caught it.
“Dammit, Heather. Give me your hands.” Theresa reached across the table and Heather reluctantly dropped her hands into her cousin’s. At first nothing happened, then it felt like static tingles rushing across her skin, the smell of burnt air surrounding her as Theresa closed her eyes to focus. Magic. A pang of jealousy clanged inside Heather, followed by the rush of heat from Theresa’s hands. It flooded up her arms, splashing down her back as if someone had just thrown her in a steam shower, wrapped her in a fluffy blanket straight out of the dryer, and fed her a bowl of warm soup all at the same time. Heather tried to remind herself that she didn’t want the power, she didn’t need the power. She was just fine without it. Even after Theresa’s energy was done doing its thing, her cousin held on to her hands. Her voice was much calmer when she spoke again, “Heather, I love you. We’ve known each other our whole lives. I know you’ve got a hang up about this, and I’ve tried to explain it to the aunts. You know I have. But I don’t think they’re going to let it go this time.”
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