by Cynthia Dane
“Everything is getting me wet right now.”
“Good.” He kissed her again, his grip on the back of her head unrelenting. “I’m going to hold back, unlike the other night. For fuck’s sake, if only you knew what you were doing to me in that dress.”
“That you picked out.”
Vincent lifted her hoodie, pulling it above her head and casting it onto the other couch. His hands went to her breasts, hiding beneath a T-shirt and bra. As he massaged her, aroused her, he said, “I didn’t think that far ahead with it. I thought I could handle you. Thought I could behave around you.” Her T-shirt went up. Thick, masculine fingers yanked her bra cups down and immediately pinched her nipples. Fuck! Nala writhed on the couch, as he wanted. “You’re too irresistible for me, though. You’re a succubus, Nala. Maybe you don’t intend to be, but from the night we met you’ve been both the best and the worst thing to happen to me in so long. Fuck me every which way, I want you.”
He pinched her so hard that she cried out in pain. Sweet, delectable pain. This wouldn’t have felt good with my ex… Because that guy wasn’t a Dom. He wasn’t a man who made that sort of thing feel good. Nala was lucky if he got her off. I was used to doing it myself.
“Do you want me? Like this?”
There was almost a hint of desperation in his voice. Careful desperation. Like hell Vincent Lane would be desperate around her. “Yeah…”
“That’s not good enough. I want to hear you say it.” Vincent pinched her again. Nala sucked in a shriek before her hand slapped over her mouth. I doubt anyone can hear me. That was both fantastic and dreadful.
“I want you…”
“What do you want me to do?”
His fingers gently rubbed her breasts, as if that could soothe the delightful pain she experienced. “I want you to teach me how to submit to you.”
“And?”
Man wants an end game. “Fuck me. Please.”
Vincent stepped back. At first Nala was afraid he would trip backward over the coffee table, but he remained firm, neither swaying nor flinching. “It’s not enough to submit. You’ll have to serve me, too.”
You like that sort of thing, huh? Nala wasn’t surprised. Why would she be surprised at this point? Men who made it to his level of success and fortune – let alone so early in life – had to have this streak in them. I wonder what he’s like during board meetings. Nah, that was boring. Nala wanted to know what he was like in his bed.
“I’ll serve you, Master.”
She couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice. Nevertheless, she didn’t lie. You want me to bring you a drink, sir? I’ll do it if it means getting that dick right now. Girl had to keep herself from drooling.
If Vincent was displeased with her tone, he didn’t say anything. He was more interested in taking her hand, pulling her off the couch… and swinging his arm behind her legs.
“Whoa!” Nala was in the air, legs kicking in his grasp as she flung both arms around his neck. Safe to say she had never felt this… possessed… before. I’m his thing. I belong to him, right now. The baby feminist in her was about to have a shit fit. Good thing she knew how to shut that asshole up. “Dude, you’re strong.”
He said nothing as he carried her across the open layout of his loft and began their ascent up the stairs. Nala closed her eyes, hands squeezing his hoodie as her nose inhaled the heady musk of his cologne. I want this scent all around me. I want to smell like him in the morning. I want to smell like… his. The more she submitted to this idea – and to him – the more heat swelled between her legs, and the more her nipples begged for that rough attention. Pinch me, bite me, pull my fucking hair. She was so horny she was almost game to put on a saddle and be ridden around like a pony. Tame me, fucker.
Each step was like entering another layer of hell. No, not Dante’s hell. The hell of anticipation and eternal sexual frustration. Not like Nala forgot how she was left Friday night. He better make me come. Multiple times. She was submitting to him, and that meant she wanted a real reward.
She knew she would have to earn it.
“Don’t worry,” he muttered, stepping onto the landing of the lofted bedroom. “I’ll make it up to you. Friday, that is.”
Nala landed with a hard wumpf on his bed. His soft, pliable bed that shuddered beneath her petite body. She braced herself, breasts still hanging out of her bra and shoes dirtying the end of the comforter.
“I was so wrapped up in my need for you and your body,” Vincent continued, standing beside her and grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt, “that I couldn’t think of anything but my drive to have you. I wasn’t going to stop until I saw myself spilling from your cunt.” The sweatshirt came up, taking his T-shirt with it. Oh my sweet, merciful deities upon high. The man was toned. Those abs! Nala could have licked her breakfast off them! And those arms… this was her first time seeing them. No wonder he was so strong.
Getinmegetinmegetinme! She was rubbing her own breasts and barely realized it.
“You’re going to come so much,” he snarled, pulling Nala’s legs apart so he could kneel between them. “You’ll be begging to make it stop so you can breathe again.”
That was a winning endorsement if Nala ever heard one!
“Come here.” Vincent hooked his fingers around the waist of her jeans, tugging hard enough to make her slide down the bed. “I want to look at you. Don’t be shy.”
Shy? Me? She thought that, and yet Nala had her arms crossed in front of her breasts as if she had any chance of modesty. When Vincent gripped her wrists and held her hands above her head, letting her fingers play with the bottom edge of a pillow, she felt so exposed that she couldn’t help but defer before him. The way he devoured her breasts with his eyes reminded Nala of a hungry wolf about to consume its prey. If you fuck me like a wolf, I might be yours forever. She kept thinking about his cock surging into her Friday night. It had barely made its way in there. Would she be better prepared tonight?
“Stay still.” Vincent’s hands traveled down her arms, to her shoulders, to her breasts, where they grabbed and kneaded her until she was whimpering in near-worship. “You’re mine to explore right now.”
Nala had never been put beneath this kind of spotlight before. So when Vincent dragged his nails down her stomach and then quickly unbuttoned her jeans, she sucked in a desperate cry, if only because she didn’t want to appear meek before him. Relax, girl, this guy thinks you’re so hot he can’t control his dick around you. There was nothing she hid beneath her clothes that could possibly turn him off. Not her stretch marks around her hips, not her coarse tufts of pubic hair covering her mound, and certainly not the slick folds of her pussy as he pulled down her underwear and spread her legs before his famished gaze. There was enough light shining from downstairs for him to see the pink of her insides.
“If you’re not confident in yourself,” Vincent said, teasing the inside of her thigh with his fingertips. “You damn well should be. Because you are gorgeous.”
No one had sincerely called her gorgeous before. Pretty, yes, plenty of times. Beautiful? Occasionally. Gorgeous? Next he would call her stunning!
“You’ve almost stunned me into silence.”
Close enough.
“Nala,” he muttered, leaning down and covering her chest in kisses. “I love saying your name. Nala. Nala. Nala.”
She loved hearing her name. Especially as he continued to whisper it against her skin, lowering his head more and more until his breath touched her nether lips. Oh my fuck. Nala closed her eyes, sighing against the bed beneath her. It had been so long since anyone paid her this kind of attention that she had almost forgotten how wonderful it could be. Her guards continued to lower. Pretty soon Vincent would enclose himself around her heart and send her for a tailspin she could never recover from.
Two weeks ago, even one week ago, Nala would have never guessed that she would be happily spread on Vincent’s bed, feeling his tongue push into her folds and lick languidly, heavily along her
slit. The tip of his tongue flicked against her clit, sending ripples – no, waves – of endless pleasure through her body. Holy shit, he’s good. The man feasted on her like the caught prey she was. No pathetic little licks. No bare minimum attention so he could say, “Hey, I went down on her, okay?” Nope. This was what the sex in oral sex meant. The man was making love to her pussy with his tongue, and Nala could barely contain herself as her clit became more sensitive with every passing lap.
I’m gonna come on his face. It was a plan by that point. Her skin shivered, nipples tingling in arousal as her center released an endless stream of little resistance. Really, drowning him was the least she could do after Friday night. Man was gonna pump her full of liquid? Oh, two could play at that game! He better prepare himself. Fuck that. Nala better prepare herself!
“Oh!” His tongue was heavier now, Vincent’s hands bracing themselves against her thighs as he went as far in as he dared. In her. That world-shaking tongue slipped from her slit to her insides so effortlessly that it felt like it glided between heaven and nirvana. Nala’s hips began to buck at his face, willing his tongue deeper into her. Fuck me with your tongue, stud. The ripple of his muscles as his head moved up and down was one of the most erotic things she had ever seen – never mind what was happening between her legs.
Nala went from pleasured to orgasmic within another second.
“Fuck!” She threw her head back, hips thrusting wildly against Vincent’s face as one torment of ecstasy after another overcame her. She thought she was going to drown him? She was the one drowning now, cast away in a sea of conflicting thoughts and feelings that would destroy a lesser woman. Yet every time she began to worry, Vincent would caress her with his tongue, and she was gone again.
It felt good, it felt guilty to give herself completely over to sex and all its delicious trappings.
She opened her eyes and found his staring intently back at her. “Oh my God,” she whimpered, coming down from her orgasm just to have another one. This man needed to mind his abilities before he killed her.
Well, he did say she was going to come so much that she would have to beg for it to stop…
“Shit,” he muttered, pulling away from her as Nala whined in defeat. Okay, you win, I’m all yours. “Shit, shit.” Vincent’s chin was wet. His thumb slipped against her thigh easily, drawing small streams of wetness across her skin. “Shit.”
“Uh huh,” Nala responded. “Shit.”
Vincent sat up, wiping the lower part of his face with his right hand. When he hooked it beneath Nala’s left knee again, she gasped at how wet it was. Wet with me, of all things. “You smell so damn good.”
His head went down again, nose nuzzling against her wet folds, dipping into her, taking her for who she was. Nala bit her lip and refused to say anything that would ruin the moment, whatever the moment was supposed to be.
“Kiss me,” Nala whimpered. “I want to taste myself on you.”
She didn’t think he was going to do it. After all, it hadn’t been his idea, and Nala figured that everything was supposed to be his idea from now on. Then his lips came, bruising hers as they had bruised her elsewhere. Nala dared to lower her arms and feel him within her embrace, wrapping between her legs and pushing the bulge in his pants against her thigh.
“You’re mine.” One growl after another passed from his lips to hers. “When I’m done with you, you’ll understand that well.”
Nala hoped that all this heavy kissing and petting would lead to him drawing himself out of his pants and into her. Heaven knew she was ready. Legs spread, slit wet, and body eager to be invaded and claimed. Yet Vincent held back, content to press his lips against her, to touch her breasts and throat and nothing else.
“I’ve made up the other night to you, don’t you agree?”
There was only one correct response. Nala nodded, wordless. Vincent squeezed her breast so hard that she gasped into his ear instead.
“Good. Now that you know what I can provide you, it’s time for me to know what you can provide me.”
He sat up, his back straight and tall as his knees dug into his bed.
“Serve me, Nala.”
Those were her only orders. Nothing specific, nothing that could tell her what it was he wanted, if anything. Serve him, huh? Did he want a massage? A bath drawn? Something to drink? Is that what he meant? Or did he want some sexual service? Nala eased herself onto her elbows, legs slowly closing as she turned her hips toward him. Her face was dangerously close to that toned abdomen laced in sweat. Even after what had happened a few minutes ago, Nala had never felt so carnal in her life.
“Yes, Master,” she whispered, a light flickering in the back of her mind when she called him that.
Goodness, she was turning into one of them.
“Sort of sad how quickly I’ve got you calling me that. I was hoping you’d put up more of a fight so taming you would be that much sweeter.”
Oh, Nala was not going down that easily. “Tonight I’m suggestible,” she explained, lightly running her nails down his chest. “Tomorrow is another day and another chance for you to see the wild side of me.”
“You seem pretty wild right now.”
“You said…”
“I said I wanted to tame you, not strip you of what makes you you.” He snatched her hand, taking it from his chest down to his zipper. “I don’t dare think you would obey any other man but me. The day I see that spark leave your eyes is the day I give up being a Dom for good. I want you to enjoy every minute we spend together like this.”
“Enjoy it, but obey you.”
“You think those are mutually exclusive?”
His tender touch to her head and back placated her for now. “Not at all,” she said, lowering his zipper. “Why don’t you lie back, sir? I hear somebody wants to be served, and I only know one way to do it.”
Vincent raised his eyebrows, one of the only ways he knew how to express anything. We’ll figure that out later. If he wanted Nala to make some changes, then she expected the same in return. Like learning how to be a feeling human being again.
Nala watched in minor triumph as Vincent lowered himself to the bed, slumping slightly against a pillow with one arm propped up and the other resting lazily against his side. He watched her, expectantly, eyes burning in curiosity as she knelt on the bed and took off the last of her clothes.
“You’re very beautiful with your hair down like that,” he said softly, finger rubbing his upper lip. “You’re pretty with it back, too, but this is better.”
“I wear it back because it’s easier that way, sir.”
“Just don’t ever cut it. I’ll be gutted.”
He looked as if he wanted to reach out and touch her hair, but refrained. Yet Nala took his comments to heart and brought her hair forward, over her shoulders and framing her heart-shaped face. Locks of black landed on his jeans, tickling Nala’s arms and scraping across the bed as she leaned forward on her hands.
She didn’t know why she wanted to please this man so much. Well, it wasn’t really about pleasing him. Right now it was about having fun, letting loose and exploring a facet of her sexuality she never considered before. So what if it led to more trust between them? That wasn’t bad at all. Just because I can put it out of my mind for a few hours and learn to breathe for fun instead of the sake of it… doesn’t mean I forget who I am or what I’m about. She wasn’t afraid to tell Vincent to step off if he stepped out of line. He could strut around saying he was a Dom all he wanted. If he wanted Nala to happily obey his whims, then he would have to earn it.
She had a feeling that a good Dom knew that.
We’re having fun, girl. Nothing more. This wasn’t a commitment. Nala still held all the cards she wanted.
Besides, she thought as she smirked at him and finished unbuttoning his pants, she owed him nothing.
A pleased growl rumbled from Vincent’s throat as Nala rubbed his erection beneath his black briefs. Finally, I get to experience this thing
under my own terms. Funny! The man thought she was serving him? Nala was doing whatever the fuck she wanted!
And Nala wanted to check out what a man like Vincent Lane had going on in his pants.
Hello, there. She pulled his briefs down over his erection and ran her finger along his growing length. This here is a cock, all right. The man shuddered beneath her touch. Now that was power.
“Fucking hell, Nala,” he muttered, hand stroking her head and hair as she wrapped her fingers around the head of his cock and pressed her lips against the rigid length. “You’re a tease. I knew you were, but try not to kill me.”
Would that be so bad, though? Nala would almost take it as a point of pride if he came right now. How much can you hold back? She blew against his skin, flicking her tongue against a vein and feeling a bit of precum with her fingertip. When she tasted it, making sure to look up at him with her finger firmly in her mouth, she noted that it had a lovelier taste than what she experienced the other night. Why men gotta be this way? Whatever.
She wrapped her hand around him beneath, on top, and any other direction she could conjure. No matter how she approached him, he remained firm, and her tiny, petite hands remained unable to completely circle his girth. This was the thing that struggled to get in her wetness the other night. She thought it might have been the position back then, but maybe he really was that big in comparison to her.
Only one way to find out.
His fingers tangled in her hair as she wrapped her lips around his tip, hand working its way down his shaft and feeling his sack beneath. Vincent relaxed more into his bed, content to let Nala do the work. She was content with that too. Just let me have my fun. Let me explore you like you explored me. Part of this exploration included tasting more of that sweet liquid coming from the tip of his cock. Nala wasn’t shy around this stuff. She wouldn’t tell Vincent that her only experience was with her ex, but it hadn’t been a problem back then either.
Mostly because she was eager. With the right man, this was more than fun.
