“I won’t say when. For me, there is no when. You stop when you’re done.”
Suddenly, her shadow blocked out the dawning light in the room, her hair was all over his neck and shoulders, and her lips were at his ear.
“When I’m done striping you,” she said in his ear, “I’m going to jack you and squeeze your balls, milking every bit of cum you have out of you. And tonight, when you come back to me, I’m going to blow your fucking mind.”
If she had better to give him than last night, he didn’t doubt it in the slightest.
He pressed his pulsing cock against the bolster.
“Stripe me,” he bit out.
Another growl from Evangeline that ended with her sinking her teeth in his earlobe, a sharp bite that radiated down his neck, spine, through his ass and right to the tip of his cock.
Then she was gone.
An instant later the switch landed on his ass.
If the woman could give a spanking, and she really could, she rocked a fucking striping.
Fucking, fuck, she thrashed his ass, the backs of his thighs, the pain, so elegant, so exquisite, so perfect, drove up his balls, his hole, through his dick.
He found her rhythm and lifted for her every stroke, meeting it, his cock rubbing against the bolster, and he heard the switch hitting his flesh mingled with her noises, not of effort—hot sweet noises of getting turned way the fuck on, all of it dragging him right along with her.
She took him to where it hurt like fuck and she took him beyond to where it burned like hell and then she took him beyond to where he was going to have to blow.
“Baby,” he groaned, not even in his mind, all about his ass, thighs, cock and sac.
The switch was tossed aside and she was between his legs, stroking his dick and squeezing his balls.
“Fuck yes,” he grunted, his fingers clenching on his bindings, his hips pistoning into her hand. “Fuckin’ fuck, fuck yes, make me blow.”
“God, could you be more beautiful?” she asked, voice filled with wonder.
“Squeeze, Angie.”
If he wasn’t skimming the edge of a colossal orgasm, he would have noted the husky beauty of her “Honey.”
But instead, ass slicing through the hair, cock thrusting into her tight fist, she tightened her hold on his balls, his head shot back, he yanked at the posts of her bed with his grip on his ties and his grunt scored a path from cock to throat as he blew into her sheets.
She milked him, squeezed him, did as she always did, keeping true to her promise, wringing every drop of cum out of him, and his body juddered through a string of shattering aftershocks before he could do nothing but go slack.
She let him go, crawled up him and straddled him.
Dripping pussy to his back, the rest of her surrounding him, she stuffed her face in his neck and whispered, “You’re so damned amazing, it’s like I dreamed you.”
Right.
Branch was done.
Done fighting it.
Just done.
“Untie me.”
Her body stilled, but probably thinking he’d had enough, it was the Domme she was that she moved swiftly, near to frantically, untying his right wrist, right ankle, over to his left ankle and left wrist.
Once fully released, immediately he rolled, avoiding his cum. Hooking her by the waist, he pulled her under him, gave her some of his weight, lifted his head and froze solid.
He had a lot on his mind. Gratitude for another fucking unbelievable orgasm. A driving need to touch her, something she’d never allowed with any freedom but he sensed she wanted.
But mostly, after that, hearing how much she enjoyed it, feeling how much he did, tasting her pussy still on his tongue, hearing her come now three times, knowing she’d given him two orgasms and they’d been the two best of his life (by a long shot), and eating her goddamned, fucking spaghetti, Branch had the driving desire to share with his Mistress that he needed to fuck her.
Not then.
But she had to know that was what her sub wanted, that seed needed to be planted in her head because with all he was getting, he needed to know he’d soon get her pussy.
Get her.
He’d been inside only a handful of women since Tara and none of them had done it for him.
But he knew Evangeline would do it for him.
And he wanted that.
However, in the dawning light, what he saw was Evangeline, hand planted firm in his chest, body stiff and inert, eyes wide and fucking terrified.
He’d freaked her.
She’d had a sub snap on her and he was now her sub and he’d freaked her.
Fuck.
Branch kept one arm wrapped around her but slowly lifted his other hand and for the first time directly touched her hair, tangling his fingers in it tenderly.
Damn, it was soft.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Angie,” he whispered.
“Y-you move fast.”
Fuck.
Shit.
“Never hurt you, honey,” he told her gently.
“Y-y-you, I … I … you moved really fast.”
Fuck, he was a moron.
“I liked that, baby,” he shared.
“I … okay, good,” she pushed out.
“I wanted to touch you.”
She nodded, staring into his face, and he could see her fighting it and losing.
“Hold you,” he explained. “I’ve never really touched you.”
She kept nodding but her hand planted in his chest loosened.
“Oh-okay.”
He should tell her he knew. He should tell her he’d been there but she’d been so messed up, she didn’t notice. He should tell her he’d seen it all, all of it, on tape. He should tell her it was him who dealt with Kevin.
He should tell her.
He didn’t tell her because he didn’t want her to know the monster in her bed.
He touched his forehead to hers, looked into her frightened eyes, felt that look burn in his gut, and he whispered, “Never, not ever, not fuckin’ ever, Angie, would I hurt you.”
She stared into his eyes.
“I’m trained,” he found himself saying.
Christ.
Blurted it right out.
“I know. I know you’re an experienced sub.”
“I am that, absolutely, honey. Had my first Mistress at nineteen, had a fair few in between, and I’m far away from nineteen.”
“Right.”
“I mean, I see your reaction and I can guess where it’s coming from and you need to get I’m trained. That training meaning, feeling you freeze in my arms, look at me like that, I’m not up and out of this house, hunting down the dickhead who made you think I’d ever hurt you. I’m in check. I’m here. With you. That’s what I mean by trained. I did not lie. You got a style. It’s different than any Domme I’ve ever seen. It works on me, fuck, Angie, beauty. But I’ve been switched worse than that, not as good as that, but worse. Whipped worse than what you saw the other night. Nipples practically twisted off. Cock in a vise. Weights hanging from my balls. Had bitches fuck my ass who had no clue what they were doing. When I say there’s nothing I can’t take, there is nothing I can’t take. And because of that, the way you give it, I love taking what you’ve got. But it’s more. I’ve learned control in a variety of ways, Angie, as a sub and a lot more, and you never have to worry about me losing it, no matter what we do.”
“I … you’re right.”
He was relieved when she melted underneath him, her hand sliding up to curl around the side of his neck.
He was not relieved when she spoke again.
“That was actually insulting, me reacting like that. He’s … you … the guy, he’s not you. I’m sorry.”
“Do not ever fuckin’ apologize for having an honest reaction, Evangeline,” he clipped.
She blinked.
“Angie, you fucked me on your couch last night, I shot a load that coulda been collected and used to populate an island the size of Great Britain, and I’m not sorry I got off like that for you, on show for you, it’s who I am, it’s what I like, it’s the way it is. And right now I’m pissed because my ass burns like fuck, I fuckin’ love it, my balls are wrung dry, and I love that too, and I should be enjoying that, holding you in my arms, telling my Domme I want her to find a time she’ll let me fuck her. And I’m not doing that. Instead, you’re annoying the shit out of me apologizing for giving me a piece of you. Showing me who you are. Offering me the opportunity to share with what we got, two days, you can’t have missed I feel totally safe with you so it means everything to me to know you feel the same with me.”