Capturing his gaze yet again, her unoccupied hand went to his plug.
“Slide down a little, handsome.”
He slid down, his chest rising and falling, no longer able to fully hide he’d seen what was coming.
But she knew by the look in his eyes he wasn’t fearing it.
He couldn’t wait to get it.
And that “it” was a lot. He was going to be stretched wide and filled deep.
And he was going to seriously get off on it.
God, he was a thing of beauty.
She carefully slid his plug out and swiftly set it aside on the towels.
Then she went back to him. The thick head of the toy to his anus, her hand back to his cock, she leaned over him, close, so all he could see was her, all he could smell was her, but he would still feel everything.
“What do you want, Branch?” she whispered, putting pressure on the toy against his hole.
“I want that,” he growled.
“What, baby?”
“Fuck me with that, Evangeline.”
She pressed and his body tensed, the cords in his neck stood out and she sensed his fingers digging into the couch.
“Shh, handsome.” She stroked his cock gently, still putting mild pressure on at his ass. “Relax.”
“Shove it deep.”
Oh yes, her big boy couldn’t wait to get fucked.
Her panties drenched.
“Take it slow,” she coaxed, feeling him open.
“Fill me,” he grunted.
“Baby—”
“Fuckin’ fill me,” he bit off.
She pushed the cockhead of the toy in, Branch closed around it, then in a smooth, slow thrust, she glided it home.
When she did, his head dropped back, his chest arched forward and his ass sought her hand as a low groan rumbled up his chest and filled the room.
Evangeline convulsed all over, nearly orgasming at witnessing the depth of his pleasure.
Then his head came up, his cool-blue gaze slapping her with an ice burn that sent her shivering with anything but cold.
“Take my ass, Evangeline,” he growled.
She was so excited, she didn’t make him ask twice or say please.
She moved closer, working him, cock and ass, her face in his, their eyes locked.
“Faster,” he grunted.
She ramped him up every way she could, faster, harder, tighter, deeper.
His head dropped back again so all she saw were the muscles of his neck standing out in tense relief, the strong line of his jaw, and he started to move.
His fingers clenching the couch, his head thrown back, he jacked his own cock viciously in her hand at the same time rocking the toy up his ass, the sub who was a master, Evangeline along for his wild, beautiful ride.
“That’s it, baby, take yourself there,” she encouraged breathlessly.
“Fuck,” he grunted.
She put her weight into it, she put all she had into it and he fucked her fist and rode his toy even harder.
“Yes,” he hissed out between his teeth.
“Don’t come, handsome, so beautiful, I want more,” she ordered, watching him, taking it all-in, letting his show drive her higher.
“Ma’am,” he groaned, now bucking in her couch.
Utterly dazzling.
“Give me more,” she demanded.
His head came up, his eyes unfocused, the need stark on his face.
She’d done it.
God, God.
Dazzling.
“Evangeline,” he whispered.
“More,” she pushed.
“Need to blow.”
“More, Branch.”
“Fuck,” he bit out, head falling back, he gave her more.
“That’s it, baby, ride it, earn it, that’s it.”
Then it came.
Low, guttural, tortured.
Perfection.
“Ma’am, please.”
“Come,” she commanded.
Instantly, he blew. Bucking violently underneath her, his cum jetted up his chest as she kept at him, staying in sync with the intensity of his orgasm.
And he came more, milky gushes shooting out, wave after wave splashing on his boxed abs.
“Fuckin’ fuck me,” he groaned. Brutally jacking her hand with his hips; he kept coming to the point Evangeline knew she needed to lead him down.
Carefully, slowly, she glided the toy out and tossed it to the towels.
She shushed and cooed at him as she gentled her fingers around his dick, swiftly unclamping his nipples. She soothed them with light petting from her thumb before she soothed his neck, his jaw. Milking the last weak bursts from his cock, she was resting her body against his side, in the bend of his hip and thigh, gently stroking his cock.
Finally, his head lolled and she just held him warmly at the base and watched his face, the harshness softened to an almost unbearable beauty in his aftermath.
“Okay?” she whispered.
He turned his head to the side so he could look into her eyes.
“Too bad I’m not into exhibitionism so we don’t have a witness to an undoubtedly record-breaking orgasm in length and amount of cum.”
A joke.
Again.
Branch could joke.
She smiled at him.
As he had that morning, his eyes grew unfocused as they fixed on her mouth.
And damn, she wanted to kiss him.
But she needed something else.
And after his show, that something else had to happen immediately.
So she lifted up off him, grabbed his hand in hers and yanked up her skirt with her other hand.
That got his attention. The usual alertness (and then some) returned to his face just as she slid his hand, with hers, into the front of her panties.
She bent over him again, her other hand braced in the seat between his body and the back of the couch, put her face close to his and rubbed his middle finger, hers covering his, against her clit.
The feel of his strong, long, calloused finger rasping over her tight nub made her head snap back and she needed more.
So she gave herself more.
Manipulating his fingers, she touched herself, fucked herself (with her finger and his), rode their hands and took herself there (with a good deal of his help—he took the guidance, but he added his own pressure and it … was … divine).
And she came on her knees, bent over him, spasming against their hands, her forehead nearly resting on his, her delicate puffs of breath and soft moans landing on his lips.
Jerking lightly through some aftershocks, she cupped herself with their hands and let her forehead float down to hit his shoulder.
She’d done it.
She’d earned his cum (a good deal of it). She’d earned the beautiful climax she’d just had that came from watching him perform for her. She’d earned this man jacking himself at her command twice that day and texting her that he did, then watching him walk in her kitchen door while she was making dinner. She’d earned him lying under her, his hand in her panties, the massive load of his cum still exhibited over his torso.
She’d earned this.
She’d earned him.
But as she came down, she realized there was something she hadn’t earned.
The scene was done. They’d both come. It was over.
And now, he could clean up, get dressed and walk away.
He could also wrap his arms around her recently orgasmed, sensitive, relaxed, heated body and hold her to him.
Or touch her.
Or stroke her.
Or show her some affection.
He did not.
She held his hand against her sex and she knew the only reason he kept it there was because his Mistress was making him keep it there.
They’d just shared everything.
But they had nothing.
And then he gave her something.
His mouth to her ear, his fingers at her pussy giving a tender squeeze, Branch whispered, “Okay?”
It was only a little bit of something.
But Evangeline was going to take it.
She nuzzled her face in his neck and whispered back, “Yes, honey, okay.”
She felt a tenseness hit his body when she said the word “honey,” but it was there and gone in a way she wondered if she’d felt it at all.
Because she sensed it was paramount to keep him focused, she didn’t delay in lifting her head and looking into his eyes.
“Now, my big boy, it’s time to take care of you after you gave me such an amazing show and then get you ready for bed.”