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His Little Tart

Page 18

by Sindra van Yssel


  She wanted him again, skin on skin.

  He squeezed her wrist, gently removed her hand, and turned around. “Shower, remember?”

  “Do I smell? Was I that nervous?”

  “You were nervous, but you smell lovely. Shower first anyway.” He turned her around and gave her a smack on the bottom that sounded worse than it hurt. She scampered to the bathroom, hearing his steps behind her.

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  “So why are we taking a shower?” she asked once they were in the bathroom. She knew she ought to let it go, but she couldn’t resist asking questions.

  “Because you’ll be more comfortable if you know you’re clean.” He reached past her to turn on the shower and adjusted the water.

  “More comfortable for what?”

  “For what I’ve wanted to do ever since I met you. I’ll make it good for you.”

  Uh-oh.

  “Temperature’s right. In you go.”

  “What about you?” Constance asked, since he obviously wasn’t going to answer her other question. She got in before he gave her another swat. The warm water sprayed on her body, and she turned her back to it and let it beat down in an invigorating massage.

  He grinned. “I’ll make it good for me too.” He ripped off the paper covering over the soap and then joined her.

  “I meant do you need to be clean?”

  “Not especially. You’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

  She couldn’t resist. “Aren’t I always?”

  He held the soap under the water for a moment and then massaged her shoulders with his soapy hands. “Yes, little tart. You are always full of questions. Now let them go for a moment and feel. That’s an order.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes. She almost asked him if he wanted to get under the water too, feeling she was being selfish, but she remembered and held back. His hands cleaned her arms, her breasts, and her stomach. They slipped over her smooth pussy, which she had shaved that morning at his request. She’d found that every other day was enough to keep it smooth. Having it bare made her feel sleek, sexy, and a bit perverse. And he never seemed to get tired of having his hand there. Or having his fingers on her clit.

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  He made sure it was very clean, and she grabbed the steel bar on the side of the shower for balance. She suspected at home she’d have ripped the towel rod off.

  He crouched down to rub her legs. Apparently it wasn’t all about getting her incredibly turned on. He soaped them down until they were as clean as could be.

  “You’ve gotten every inch,” she said.

  “Hush. And no, there are inches I still need to get. Let me get under the water and grab the towel rod at the other end.”

  She did as directed without thinking about how that placed her, until she felt his hands on her ass. Reaching for the rod had caused her to bend over slightly, but apparently not enough. He pulled her back until she was stretching. His slick fingers massaged her backside, then slid into her crease. At least, covered with soap, she didn’t mind him touching her there. Then he pulled on her cheeks and wiggled a finger against her opening.

  “Master?”

  “Shh. Relax; let me in.”

  She took a breath and tried to relax. He massaged and probed, rubbing the bar of soap up and down her crease. Finally, he managed to get a finger inside a little way.

  Then farther. It tickled, and excited nerves she wasn’t used to having touched. It felt good, but it so shouldn’t.

  “That’s so dirty,” she protested. Bent over the way she was, relying on the towel rod for balance, was almost like being bound. She didn’t feel she could move. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

  “It’s so clean. Squeaky clean.” His finger moved inside her, rubbing against her inner walls. Her pussy gushed anew at the crazy sensations coming from deep inside her.

  What do you have in mind? She barely stopped herself from asking it. Besides, she suspected she knew.

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  He slid his finger out at last. Her ass clenched at the space he left. She should be glad to get rid of the invader, but instead, she felt empty.

  He turned off the water and grabbed a towel. He dried her briskly, the towel rough against her already aching breasts and pussy. “Go to the bed, and wait for me on your hands and knees.”

  She glanced down at his hard cock as she stepped out of the shower. A finger was one thing. Did he intend to fuck her in the ass? The protest died on her lips. He was so big. She didn’t want to ask. She wanted him to do what he wanted to do, whatever it was. And she wanted to wait, ready for his pleasure.

  She went to the bed and crawled up on it. She was aware of how her pussy and her ass were exposed as she knelt on the bed. She spread her legs, wanting to be even more available to him. She could hear the soft susurrations of the towel against his body, and then his footsteps. She looked back at him. Maybe it would have been more submissive to face the wall, but she wanted to see his well-defined pecs, his rippled abs, his jutting cock.

  He opened his briefcase and pulled out a jar of clear liquid. Lube.

  She breathed. Was it going to hurt? Was she going to be able to take him? A mixture of fear and anticipation swirled around her and settled maddeningly in her core. She wanted it. Wanted him inside her in the worst possible way—and the worst possible way seemed to be what he had in mind. He put his arm around her waist and pulled her a few inches toward the edge of the bed. Toward his cock. Then his hand went lower, to cup her mound. His fingers dipped into the molten liquid of her pussy, and they slid, lubricated, until they came to rest on her clit. Then she felt something wet trickling in the crease of her ass. Lube. “It’s warm!” she exclaimed in surprise. She expected it to be cold.

  “I’ve been keeping it wedged between two of those hand-warming packs, love.

  Just for you.”

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  He thought of every last thing. Even when he was pushing her past where she thought her limits were, he didn’t miss a detail relating to her comfort. Her heart warmed. “I love you too, Master,” she murmured. She didn’t think it was loud enough for him to hear.

  “I love you, my little tart,” he said.

  Her heart jumped.

  “And I’m going to keep you,” he added.

  It was all she could do not to turn around and throw herself into his arms, but she stayed still. She wanted what was to come. She suspected there’d be time for a long cuddle afterward and sleeping in his arms as well. His finger slid along the crease of her ass and then entered her, rubbing lube inside her walls. This time it went in much more easily.

  He slid a second digit alongside the first, stretching her. He drizzled more of the warm lube onto her and smoothed it around her entrance and inside, until he slipped in and out easily. Then he stretched her some more—another finger? She couldn’t see. She found herself pushing against his hand, trying to take him in. He held her firmly with his other hand, pressing down on her clit.

  “Just relax, honey.” He slipped his fingers out of her and nudged his cockhead against her anus. Easy for him to say. And yet she did. And slowly he edged inside, stretching her, pushing. He rubbed her clit softly, and she felt her womb clench, wanting more in every way. As his finger traced little circles on her clit, the tension in her grew. And he slipped farther in, filling her until she felt his pubic bone press against her cheeks. She’d never felt so full.

  He pressed down on her clit and squeezed her nipple, and everything exploded at once. Her pussy and ass contracted, her tummy flipped, her arms felt weak. Her legs shivered. He hardly moved inside her as waves of pleasure rolled through her body.

  And then, as they subsided, he drew back, and she moaned. She hadn’t been sure she’d wanted him there, but now that he was filling her, she didn’t want him to leave.

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  Slowly, he slid back and then forward again. Back and forward. Not hard and rough, the way he’d taken her pussy the night before. But each fraction of an inch he moved was intense. She rocked back against him. His fingers felt rougher, somehow, on her breasts and her belly. Her skin felt more alive, tingling.

  “I want to feel you come again,” he whispered to her.

  Will you come too? she was about to ask, and then he slipped two fingers into her pussy, and she didn’t have the words. She had thought she felt full before, but now it felt double. His fingers were pressing against her G-spot, and on the other side, nerves she hadn’t known she had were squeezed between the hardness of his cock and his fingers. She thought she only needed him to touch her clit to come again, hard—and then she found she didn’t even need that.

  “Come now,” he said, and she climaxed, squeezing his cock and his fingers, grabbing the sheets in her fists. Even through her own pleasure, she felt him tense and swell, pulse, and finally shoot hot liquid deep inside her. Her arms couldn’t hold her up anymore, and her legs felt rubbery. She collapsed against the bed, feeling utterly full of him, completely his. Every inch of her.

  She heard him try to catch his breath. “Mine.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He pulled out of her slowly and then patted down her backside with a towel, cleaning up all the excess lube. She sighed, feeling pampered.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  “Hurry.”

  She heard him run the water to clean himself, and she rolled over so that she could get a better look at him when he came back.

  He was still drying himself off when he walked back. It looked like fun. “Here, let me take care of that,” Constance said.

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  He chuckled and tossed her the towel. She caught it and rubbed his cock briskly with it. And then slid her hand up and down the semihard shaft, feeling it start to stiffen again in her hand. She’d always imagined men taking the initiative, leaving her powerless. But she was discovering being a submissive involved having quite a bit of power indeed. She looked up at him with mock shyness.

  “You’re quite a coquette sometimes, you know that?”

  “Why, Sir, I don’t even know how to make one of those.”

  He looked at her a moment, puzzled, and then said, “That is a word in English, isn’t it?”

  She laughed. “I sometimes forget it’s not your native language, but yes, it’s a word in English.”

  “Good.”

  “But no one uses it.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him.

  “Minx,” he said and kissed her. “Tart.” Another kiss. “Vixen. Wench.”

  She kissed him hard, and he responded. It seemed the best way to shut him up, even though she kind of liked listening to him talk. His tongue was warm and slippery against hers, and tireless.

  She had to let him go after a few minutes so she could breathe.

  “I love you,” he said.

  She smiled. “I love you too.”

  They stared at each other for a few long moments. It was the most comfortable silence she could imagine.

  “Listen,” she said at last. “I need to get a new place to live, closer to the bakery.”

  “Funny. I need to get a new place to live too. One that’s not a hotel. So let’s make it the same place.”

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  “That was what I was thinking.” She turned her head and rested against his shoulder, enjoying his strength. “You have no place but hotels? No women in other cities?” She hadn’t seriously considered it, but now it popped out.

  “Sometimes I stay at my grandmother’s. That’s the only woman in another city, and she lives in the country. We’re going to have to visit soon, by the way, before your bakery goes online, because once it does, you’ll be too busy making it a glorious success.” He grinned. “I’ll book flights as soon as we know the timeline.”

  “She lives where?”

  “In Holland.”

  And he thought nothing of just hopping a plane to go visit. She supposed she’d have to get used to that. She grinned. “Okay. Can we go see windmills? And tulips?”

  “Yes. Yes. And yes. I’ll show you the world, love, if you’ll let me.”

  She pretended to think about it.

  “Okay,” she said at last and then went back to kissing.

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  Loose Id Titles by Sindra van Yssel

  A Haunted Romance

  Dom and Domme

  In the Middle

  Purple Passion

  Red Lust

  Secretary for Two

  The Barbarian and the Witch

  The BONDAGE RANCH Series

  Roped In

  Pushing Limits

  Moving On

  His Little Tart

  170

  Sindra van Yssel

  Sindra van Yssel

  I live in Northern Virginia with my partner, my teenage son, and a lot of fish. For many years I was active in our local BDSM community. Yes, people really do the things people do in my books!

  By day I work in a public library, where I get to meet all kinds of readers. I've a soft spot for happy endings and characters who learn more about themselves, but I enjoy torturing my characters along the way, too. Hopefully you'll enjoy watching them squirm as much as I do.

  Document Outline

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Loose Id Titles by Sindra van Yssel

  Sindra van Yssel

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

 

 

 


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