The feathered pet lifted one of his feet and stared at Trace.
“I’m glad you’re in the cage.” He grabbed a nut from a bowl as a pseudo peace offering. Eureka moved to bite him with his ferocious bill. “I’ve heard parrot tastes like chicken.”
“Tastes like chicken.”
Sure everything was safe, he headed back to join Aimee.
The room was steamy and smelled of lavender, or what he thought might be lavender. Could have been any flower, he supposed, even rose or lilac. Regardless, it smelled fresh, feminine, and appealing, just the way a sub of his should smell.
His cock was hard again, and he hadn’t even looked at her yet. He stripped and dropped his clothes in the hamper with hers. He didn’t think too long or too hard about what that meant. It just seemed more respectful than dumping them on the floor. Or that was what he told himself.
He slid back the shower door, and she looked up at him. Water dripped from her hair, and several drops clung to her long eyelashes. She held on to a round nylon-looking thing that was oozing lather.
“I can’t say that a man has ever been in the shower with me before.”
“I like being your first.” He entered the shower and then reached to cup her breasts. He loved the dark, dusky pink of her small nipples and how quickly they hardened when he gently pinched them. She moaned, her knees going forward a bit. “Tell me how much pressure you like. How much feels like too much? How much pushes you past that point and makes your pussy throb?”
“Even your words do that to me,” she admitted.
He tightened his grip a little.
Her mouth opened.
“You like that?”
“Oh. Yes. Yes.”
He applied a bit more pressure, and her eyes closed. Even more and she gasped, panting. “That?”
“Hurts,” she whispered.
“And this?”
She cried out.
“You didn’t just come, did you?”
She blinked. Then she laughed nervously. “I guess that’s the point where my pussy throbs.”
“Did you come without permission, querida?”
“I guess I need to be punished.”
Dios. Save him.
“Will you punish me, Trace?”
This time, she took an assertive role, and he was about done for.
She raised onto her tiptoes, dropped the poufy thing, then wrapped her arms around his neck. She leaned into him, pulling his head downward so she could kiss him.
Where he was demanding, she was a bit more tentative, but when he opened his mouth for her, she took a bit more of an aggressive role, finding his tongue, then retreating.
He liked the way she tasted. It was more than that. It was about her willingness to please him, her desire to make him want her in return.
His dick throbbed against the softness of her belly.
She pulled away a little, long enough to look him in the eyes, and against his mouth, quietly said, “I love the sight of your cock.”
Where the hell was his sweet, innocent submissive?
She folded a soapy hand around his cock and began to stroke him. As hard as he was for her, it would take her less than a dozen strokes to jerk him off. Half a dozen if… “Aimee!” He grabbed her hand.
She increased her pressure and made the strokes faster and shorter. Dios. He tightened his grip, forcing her to stop.
“Do you like that, Trace? Sir?”
How in the name of sweet Jesus did he go from being in charge to being bewitched? “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”
“I didn’t ask for it.” She bit his lower lip. Hard. “I wanted to touch you. And I want to suck you as well.”
Had she used one of her mosquitoes when he was outside, planting something inside him that told her exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it? Something had definitely gotten under his skin. “You want me? It’s more than mutual, but we’ll do it my way. Face the wall, Aimee.” He liked her shower. It was big enough for both of them, with room to maneuver. She’d obviously spared no expense here. The showerhead was oversize, and it was adjustable, height wise. The interior was tiled, with a built-in bench, something he was certain they would take advantage of when he got around to letting her suck him, something that, if he thought about it too long, would make him come at the first skin-to-skin contact.
She turned while he picked up the bottle of body soap from a shelf. “Hands on the wall,” he instructed. “Above your head.” Her sweetheart of an ass was temptation manifested. If he weren’t careful, he’d forget he was supposed to be the Dom here.
He squirted some of the soap into his palm as he looked at the bottle. Lilac, not lavender. He’d been close. At least they were both purple flowers. He lathered both hands and smoothed them over her shoulders, then down her back. She gave a small moan that made his cock stretch and strain even harder.
Then he bent behind her. “Feet at shoulder width, Aimee.”
She slowly moved into position.
Water ran over both of them, and this close to her, he inhaled the smell of her. It was all he could do not to bury himself there, all he could do not to lick her until she came all over his mouth.
He soaped her legs one at a time and adjusted the showerhead to rinse her completely. He cleaned the soap from his hands before stroking between her legs. Her pussy was slick from her own juices, and she needed no lubrication.
He moved his forefinger back and forth across her clit. Then he brought in his other hand to spread her labia and pull back the hood of her clit. It amazed him how much he liked to touch her. The sound of her pleasure spiked his own. He wasn’t generally into self-denial, but this woman made him want her pleasure more than he wanted his own.
She jerked and gave that tiny moan that he recognized as a precursor to her orgasm. She was so responsive, so easy to please. He gave her clit a tiny pinch. She gasped, her forehead falling forward to hit the tile.
The tiny pinch had interrupted her orgasm, and he easily slid a finger inside her.
Her breaths were shortened, little bursts of air, and he slipped in a second finger beside the first. “More?” he asked.
He saw her fingers splay above her head. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Tell me.”
“I want another finger inside me.”
He finger fucked her until she rocked back and forth. It was hard not to get caught up in her reactions. In his less experienced years, he would have taken her while she was in a heated frenzy. But he wanted her over and over again, wanted her satisfaction, wanted her to enjoy all the experiences he could give her. More than ever, this was about her, testing her limits, taking her places she hadn’t known existed. That he got to go there with her was just pleasure on top of pleasure.
“Trace,” she whispered. “Trace. I want… I’m going to come.”
He had guessed that a fraction of a second before she said anything. He stopped his motions, gently pulling out of her. She gave a halfhearted cry of protest but didn’t say anything else. Trace adjusted the water, making sure it fell warmly on her body. Then he continued to soothe her until she quit shaking from the second denied orgasm. “I’m proud of you,” he said.
“I didn’t want you to stop.”
“Yeah. I gathered that.”
“You really are a sadist.”
“A happy one, since I found an avowed masochist to play with.”
“Beast,” she said, stamping her right foot.
“Just think how spectacular your first anal orgasm will be.”
She froze.
“Relax.” He drew some of the arousal from her pussy back toward her anal whorl.
“Nervous,” she said with a little laugh. “I tried before. It was a disaster.”
“I want you to trust me. I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with. We’ll start with one finger, like we just did. And only when you’re ready for a second will I attempt it.”
“No sex?”
&n
bsp; “Not until you’re ready.” He leaned in very close as he touched a finger to her most private area.
She nodded.
“When I push in, bear down and push your anal muscles back against me.”
“You’re serious?”
He took her earlobe in his mouth and gently bit. Then he trailed kisses down the column of her throat to distract her.
He felt her relax slightly, and he stroked her pussy with featherlight motions even as he put a small amount of pressure on her anus. “You’re doing great,” he said.
“You haven’t done anything yet.”
He brought his left hand up to cup her breast, and then he pinched a nipple. She yelped and arched her back as she tried to evade him. He took the opportunity to effortlessly enter her rear.
“Damn!”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’re there,” he told her.
“I’ve been scared of that?”
“’Fraid so.”
She sighed exaggeratedly.
“Not so bad?”
“It’s amazing.”
He moved his finger, stretching her a bit.
“I… Er…” She wiggled her hips experimentally. “I think I like that.”
He couldn’t wait to take her this way, filling her ass with his cock, driving it home, making her scream as she came. “I hoped you would.”
“Can you…? Will you try a second?”
“I’d prefer to use lube for that.”
“There’s some in the cabinet under the sink.”
“Was that a please?”
“I want a second finger up my ass. Please.”
He laughed. Quick study. She exceeded all his hopes, and he had had very high hopes. “Greedy little sub.”
“I said please.”
He left her for a moment, dripping water all over the floor. The lube was conveniently at the front of the extra toiletries and her lotion. He grabbed the bottle, flipping open the lid and squirting a dollop onto his fingertips before he even returned to the shower.
She was in the same position where he’d left her, even with her legs spread, waiting. At this point, she could lead him around by his cock, and he’d follow her anywhere.
He backed up a bit instead of starting from where they’d left off. Even without his telling her, she arched her back for him. He wrapped one arm around her.
“Will you stroke my pussy?”
“Ask nice. Like a sub.”
“Sir… Trace… Will you please stroke my pussy?”
Fuck. “Happy to.” He did. Simultaneously he pressed a finger against her rear entrance.
She thrust back against him.
“Old pro,” he said. He kissed the side of her neck. He couldn’t help himself, not because he thought it would please her, but because he wanted to. He wanted her to be his, and he wanted to mark her. He wouldn’t actually do it, but damn it, he wanted to.
This surge of possessiveness was odd. In the past, he’d sometimes shared his subs, but the idea of sharing her pissed him off.
He moved his finger in and out. Then, when he thought she was ready, he brought a second finger up beside the first and eased both inside her.
She gasped. “That’s a little more challenging,” she said. “You’ve got big fingers.”
Her breaths were a little close together, as if she might be close to freaking out. He stroked her clit just a little faster.
“That… Yes. Right. There.”
“You like it?”
“Feeling overwhelmed,” she admitted. “It hurts. But…” Then she screamed.
Her orgasm surprised him, and if he didn’t guess wrong, it surprised her as well. He caught her as she collapsed backward into him.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to do that.”
“That one’s a freebie. You earned it.”
“No punishment?”
He wiped the water from her eyes as she tipped back her head.
“That’s fair,” she said when he didn’t respond. “It was your fault, anyway.”
“Is it indeed?”
“Well, if you weren’t such a skillful lover, I could have held on longer.”
“Do we need to have a discussion about personal responsibility?” How long, if ever, since he’d teased a woman?
“No, Sir.” She batted her eyelashes.
Yeah, she could lead him anywhere.
“I think it’s time for your butt plug.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“You will be.” Keeping her supported, he pulled first one, then the other finger, from her rear.
She wiggled about until she faced him, then pushed runaway strands of hair back from her face.
He turned off the faucet and reached for one of the towels she’d thrown over the shower door. After drying her hair and her face and trailing the towel down her neck and across her chest, he said, “Turn around.”
Obediently, she did.
He ran the soft material across her shoulders, then down her back, before rubbing the towel across her buttocks. He crouched to dry her legs, before finally moving to her intimate parts. Her labia were swollen and reddened. If he’d ever seen anything more appealing, he didn’t remember the sight. “Now the front.” His voice was husky. If he didn’t get her into the bedroom immediately, he’d take her right here in the shower.
After she was dry, he tossed the damp towel back on top of the door and snagged the other for himself. “Wait for me in the bedroom.”
She inhaled, but showed no sign of protesting. Aimee started to pass him but paused. She reached up and stroked his chin with the back of her hand. “You turn me on.”
“Yeah?” She left the room, and for far too long, he watched her. Then, shaking his head, he gave his body a cursory pass with the towel before following her.
Aimee was lying on top of the bed on her side, her head propped on her upturned arm. From earlier, the lube and the plug were on top of the nightstand. “I want you on your stomach, with a pillow beneath it.”
Her eyes widened as she followed his gaze. “You’re going to put the plug in?”
“Another time I’ll watch you do it. But yes, I plan to put it in you. Now roll over.”
She followed his instructions, her knees digging into the mattress. He put one knee on the mattress, near her, and then he liberally covered the stainless steel with lube. “Keep your legs apart.” He placed the narrow teardrop-shaped tip against her opening. She was lovely in her submission, and the sight of her completely exposed made his cock throb. “This won’t hurt a bit.”
She laughed, enough to loosen the tension, and he seized the moment. With a swift, sure motion, he sank it all the way in.
She gasped, and her hips jerked, but she settled almost instantly. “It’s cold,” she said.
“Dios. That looks beautiful. I may just always keep your ass full.”
She squirmed.
“And maybe we’ll get you a bigger plug, one that stretches you even wider.”
She turned her head to look at him. “You’re serious?”
“Maybe a glass one.”
“You’re scaring me,” she said. “Again.”
Her voice was breathless. He enjoyed that about her. There was a quality to her voice when fear and trepidation melded into trust. It did strange things to him, appealed to his masculinity, made him want to protect her. He stroked blonde strands of hair back from her face. “You’ll beg me for it, querida.”
“A glass plug?” She turned her head to the side, straining her neck so she could look at him. “I’m going to beg for that?”
“You will,” he promised. He wiggled the stainless plug he’d just inserted, tugging on it, then sinking it back in. “Do you like that?”
“I do. A lot. More than I thought I would.” With a sigh, she whispered, “Fuck me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He helped her onto her back before grabbing a condom. It seemed to take longer than ever to rip open the
packet and roll the latex down the length of his shaft.
“I like to look at your cock, Sir.”
He grinned. “I like to have you look at it.” He moved between her legs, poised at the entrance to her pussy. “And touch it.”
“Do you enjoy this?” She showed him what she meant, closing her hand around him tightly.
“Yeah.”
She stroked him, slowly at first, then more vigorously.
His head fell forward. Control threatened to fracture. Propping his weight on one arm, he curled his other hand around hers, stopping her motions. “I want you to jerk me off,” he said. “Later. Right now I want to be inside you while your ass is full of that plug.”
“Take me.”
He needed no second invitation.
She was already wet, and he slid in the first inch effortlessly.
“I can feel the plug,” she said. “It…”
“You okay?”
She inhaled sharply. “Yes.” Then again, more surely, she said, “Yes.”
He entered deeper. Despite the fact that they’d had sex earlier, she was still tight, and the size of the plug made the fit feel even more snug. He forced himself to grit his teeth and pace his strokes, not giving in to her whimpered urgings or his own body’s demands.
He grabbed her wrists and imprisoned them above her head. He loved the way they looked together, his darker skin contrasting with her much lighter tone, his strength complementing her femininity, his dominance made more complete by her sweet submission.
Because he was already on the verge of orgasm, Trace withdrew. He took a moment to recover so he could stay in control, pacing himself while he heightened her arousal to the point where her world would shatter. He pulled one of her nipples into his mouth, biting it with more pressure than he’d used before.
“Trace! That’s…”
“Too much?”
“Fantastic.”
He moved to her other nipple, giving it the same intense attention.
Her head thrashed back and forth, and the sight of her capitulation drove him to the edge. He thrust back into her, riding her hard, wanting her to experience the madness that consumed him.
“I want to come.”
“Beg,” he told her. “Beg.”
“Please? Please, Trace. I can’t…” She whimpered. “I can’t take any more.”
Trust in Me (Hawkeye Book 2) Page 11
