And she was good with the boss.
At first it was cute, that little thing with her bouncing curly hair dragging him around by his belt, rapping out orders.
But it wasn’t cute.
She had a grip of steel.
It was fucking hot.
But Jesus, when she got down to business, she was hands right the fuck on.
And fingers.
He should have pulled away, cut her verbally like the first time, dug his own keys out of those sweet, tight, leather pants, swung into his truck and left her standing there.
But did he do that?
Fuck no.
He’d slid her plug inside his own damned self.
And he’d loved taking every inch.
That bitch was heavy up his ass, tight, cool, fucking amazing. He had no idea what it was made of but he’d never felt anything like it.
Nor anything quite as good.
Even better with his ass still hot from her spanking.
The woman had magic hands. He didn’t know a single Domme who could withstand delivering a tanning that thorough without needing to stop it to end her own pain.
Evangeline did, though. She kept at him until the sting of each crack felt like a detonation in his balls.
It was a miracle he didn’t blow.
Hell, sitting in the passenger seat of his own truck, cock and balls out, ass hot from his punishment, full of whatever she’d given him, trying not to fidget or wrap his fist around his dick and take care of business, he got even harder just watching her standing at the hood, head bent to her phone, texting then talking—she was so easy to look at. To watch.
All this before she swung in his seat, pulled that fucker all the way forward so her legs could reach the pedals (seeing as she’d kicked off her shoes) and she’d started his baby up, reversed out and headed them to Phoenix.
But her torture wasn’t over.
He should never have called her lame-ass.
He should have just walked out of Aryas’s red room.
She was on a mission.
And he was fucked.
He knew this because he didn’t sit beside her, exposed to her, and she ignored him like many Dommes would do to lengthen his punishment.
Oh no.
Fuck no.
The woman played with him nearly the entire way. Stroking him. Circling the tip. Cupping his balls. Squeezing gently. Whispering, “Lord, my cock is so very pretty,” in that voice of hers.
And once, at a stoplight, she’d opened her purse, used the rearview mirror to put on that deep red, sexy fucking lipstick of hers.
Then she’d dropped the lipstick in her purse, tossed it in the backseat, turned to him and declared, “Something’s missing, handsome.”
And with that, she undid her seatbelt, bent right over him and took him inside, tightening her lips around his dick.
As soon as she was there, she was gone, leaving a red ring of lipstick just under his cock head.
Marking him.
That move might not have been inspired.
But the way she did it, where he was, how he was positioned for her, his ass heated and full … Christ.
The woman was genius.
And he was fucked.
He had no idea how he held himself from blowing all the way to Phoenix.
What he did know was that she was good to her word.
She drove them to her house, parked under her carport, reached to the backseat and grabbed her purse, put on her shoes, jumped out and rounded the hood. When she got to his side, she pulled him out by his dick, led him in with his dick, and then let him go before she lightly smacked his ass and declared, “You know what I want, baby.”
She’d then thrown her purse on the near-minuscule island of her kitchen and gone to the fridge.
He should have walked out the door.
Instead, because he was fucked in a number of ways, including, it would seem, the head, he walked through her house, up her stairs, found she’d left a light on by the bed, got naked and got in position for her.
He needed to come.
He needed to come and then go.
Then he needed to get his head screwed on straight and find someone other than Whitney to take care of business.
Not through Aryas.
Yeah, he needed to make that happen however that had to happen.
But never again through Aryas.
And he needed to make sure Evangeline Brooks didn’t cross his path again.
What the fuck she was doing at a Pound, he couldn’t believe.
But he knew.
She was out for him.
He didn’t know how to take that and with his cock throbbing, his balls aching and his whole focus centered on hearing her come up the stairs so she could make him blow, he didn’t have it in him to consider it.
He needed to come.
And then go.
He felt her before he heard the soft footfalls of her feet on carpet.
His head to the side, he saw her enter his vision, come right to him and sit down on the bed by his hip.
As he was becoming accustomed, she didn’t fuck around being hands-on.
She reached between his legs, gently cupped his balls and ordered softly, “Scooch over to the middle a little, handsome.”
With her still having a hold on him, he did as told.
When he did, she slid into the bed further, but only to stay seated at his side.
However, her hand slid up and he felt her cover his plug in his ass.
“Do you know how pretty this is?”
He just looked up at her, arms crossed under him on the pillow, cheek to them.
“It’s got a blue jewel at the hilt,” she shared.
He thought of seeing her sweet ass plugged with something like that and his hard-on raged harder.
But a talented Domme with her sub plugged like that?
A sub who’d slid her inside himself?
Fuck.
He was fucked.
Her attention moved to his ass as she stroked along the cleft, murmuring to herself like he wasn’t there, “God, baby, I want to eat you all around that, feel it against my tongue.”
Branch closed his eyes so he wouldn’t thrust into the mattress or open his mouth and beg her to do just that.
Her little mouth shoved up his ass?
Fuck.
Her hand moved, tenderly caressing his ass cheeks, he opened his eyes and she kept murmuring toward his backside.
“You’re all red, Branch. So unbelievably pretty.” Her attention came back to his face. “I’m afraid I like it so much, I might spank you even if you haven’t earned it.”
Before he could react to that (thankfully), she bent toward him suddenly, her hand going between his legs to cup his balls again.
“But you’ll be bad, won’t you?” she asked close to his face.
“Probably,” he answered.
She grinned.
Cute and hot.
Damn.
“I’m sure you will. But be very bad, Branch. I like the way you take your punishments, but more, I have a feeling you can take a lot and I want to see how far that will go.”
He wanted that too.
So much, he felt his balls tighten at the thought.
Something she undoubtedly could feel too.
He decided not to speak again.
“Open your legs wide for me,” she ordered.
He slid his legs open wide.
She massaged his balls and his eyes slid closed at the feel but he snapped them back open.
“You can like that, baby,” she cooed.
Branch remained silent.
“Now he’s being bad,” she whispered, still massaging him.
Christ, he needed to thrust.
“Do you like what you’re feeling, Branch?” she pushed.
“Yes,” he bit out.
“Lift up a little bit at your knees, I want your cock.”
Goddamn it.
He wanted her to want his cock.
And he wanted her to have it.
He did as told.
She went right in.
He couldn’t stop his eyes closing at the beauty of her firm, strong, little hand gently jacking him and he decided to keep them that way even if in his mind’s eye he could see those long, red-tipped fingernails on her small hand wrapped around his dick.
Still, it was better if he couldn’t see the real her.
Just feeling her was bad enough.
“I’m going to fuck you like this, handsome. Take your ass and stroke your cock. No, make you fuck yourself while you fuck my hand. Actually, both.”
Right, she also needed to quit talking.