Branch kept his eyes closed, his legs tensed and up on the balls of his feet, and as she kept at him, she saw his jaw tense.
That was pretty too.
So pretty.
She went for his cock and watched him clench his teeth as she stroked, firm and deep, slow, and back and again and again.
She slid the oil into her pocket and engaged both hands, massaging balls and stroking cock.
He allowed a bitten-back grunt, but she knew what that meant.
She kept at him until she saw his legs start to tremble and his teeth come out to bite his lip.
God, he was amazing.
Time to move on before she got too involved in this part and had him roll over so she could do the same as she’d been doing, but sitting on his face.
She let him go and watched his back move as he puffed out a breath, his feet rolled down, and she went to her cupboard.
She got what she needed and returned.
She didn’t make light work of it, she didn’t make short work of it and she didn’t relent as she did it.
She strapped him to the horse, every few inches, ankles to thighs, his hips free to move (slightly, they were resting against the horse but he could pull them away), upper waist and up his back, wrists to under his arms. She did this touching him, petting him, cooing to him, sliding her fingers through his hair, through his ass, over his balls, stroking his cock.
His breaths were coming heavy and she knew her big boy liked to be tied down, but strapped down and nearly completely unable to move, he loved.
“I see you like that, baby,” she whispered, bent over him, lips to his ear, fingers running lightly over the skin of his ass.
As told, he said nothing.
“Being good, and good gets rewarded, and I know how you like it, Branch.”
She slid her hand in his crease and circled his anus with her finger.
She watched his jaw get hard and felt her clit pulse.
“So fucking pretty,” she whispered.
She kissed his ear, his shoulder, still circling at his ass, before she drifted slowly away and went back to her dresser.
She got what she wanted, a vibrating cock ring that had ears at the front for clit stimulation when she rode him while he had it on (or, more importantly, when he rode her). It also had a tail that also vibrated with a small bullet that reportedly (she’d bought it but never used it) packed a punch up the ass.
She’d soon find out.
She prepared the bullet, moved behind him and slid the ring up his cock, needing to go hard as he was so distended it was a tight fit. She seated it to the base.
Then she dropped to a crouch and fed the tail in his ass, sliding the lubed bullet inside.
His ass cheeks bunched and again he rolled up to his toes.
“Now you get a tail, handsome,” she said, not hiding the marvel in her tone at all he could do to her with just a few movements, how pretty he was, his cock ringed, the vibrating cord nestled through his balls and leading into his ass. “But I like yours better.”
After she fed it inside, she slipped her finger in gently, feeling his body give a slight jerk as she made sure the bullet was positioned where she wanted it.
When done, she fucked him lightly, careful not to move the toy, and watched his hands clench around the legs of the horse.
“You missed getting fucked, didn’t you, Branch?” she asked.
He huffed out a breath.
She grinned, slid her finger carefully out and went back to the dresser.
She grabbed the remote, turned, leaned her hips against the bureau and allowed the visual of her handiwork to glide languidly up her pussy, enjoyed it several moments longer just because she could, then she flipped the switch to low.
His head shot back, then forward, pressing his forehead against the padding, his fingers tight around the legs of the horse, his feet up on his toes.
Yes, it appeared that bullet packed a punch.
Astounding.
She moved to him, legs trembling, nipples so hard, even the soft silk of her bra was too rough, and crouched in front of him.
“Look at me, baby,” she urged.
He put his chin to the pad and caught her eyes, his heated, dark, liking what he was getting so much he was finding it hard to focus.
Her clit quivered.
“Did I hit the spot?” she asked.
He jerked up his chin.
She moved up the vibrations.
His teeth clenched and the horse jumped an inch.
Her lips parted and it took all she had not to take a handful of his hair and stand in front of him, making him watch while she shoved her hand in her jeans to take herself there.
Instead, she got in his face and announced, “Now you know I like your ass red, and you like your ass red, so let’s get on to that, why don’t we?”
He hissed a breath through his teeth. She smiled at him, leaned in, touched her mouth to the side of his lips and moved away.
She went back to the cupboard, grabbed a leather strap, thick with nice edges, and moved back to him.
“Ready?” she asked.
He didn’t move.
She slid the setting higher on his tail.
The horse lifted off the floor and landed hard and she watched his head jerk back and then fall forward.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she murmured, knowing her panties were drenched, her jeans were probably getting drenched, and hoping she got to the end of this scene without breaking it just to give herself what she needed.
It wouldn’t help, doing what she was going to do, liking doing it, liking watching him take it, and knowing how much he liked it too.
But she had a battle to win.
And she was going to give it all she had.
So she strapped his ass, hearing his burred hiss as he took the first blow, his second, his third, all at his ass, she didn’t deviate. And she kept at him, loving delivering every stroke, loving watching his head jerk back and stay back, his jaw carved in granite, a muscle jumping in his cheek, his ass tipping to get it, loving just as much getting every stroke.
No, her Branch, her big boy …
He had no clue.
She ratcheted the vibrations up his ass, through his balls and at the base of his cock, higher and higher as she strapped his ass and she kept doing both …
Until he broke.
Bucking against the table, thrusting his hips, fucking nothing, he groaned, “Fuck, Angie, fuck, fuck.”
She landed three more lashes then she dropped the strap and grabbed his cock.
He kept thrusting through it.
She bent over his back as best she could.
“Do you want your plug?”
“Fuck yes,” he grunted.
“With the tail?”
“Both,” he ground out.
She moved to the dresser, lubed the plug and brought it back.
He was still slightly bucking, forehead to the table, groaning, “Fuck, shit, fuck.”
She touched the plug to his hole.
Branch twisted his neck and speared her with his eyes.
“Drive it deep,” he growled.
She drove it deep and his head jerked back, eyes closed, his entire body tensed, all the muscles growing defined, as a forced, slow, guttural “Yes” rumbled from his throat.
That was when she knew it was time.
Fast, she tore her clothes off, leaving them in a puddle on the floor.
After that, she swiftly released the straps from his back and arms, but not his legs.
“Up,” she ordered.
He pushed up to straight with his legs strapped to the horse, his engorged, rock-hard cock bounding free of the edge of the horse, standing proud in the nest of black hair between his legs, his balls separated by the vibrating cord, flushed and heavy.
Unbelievable.
Magnificent.
She climbed on the horse.
She’d intended to offer herself to him then order him to take her.
But she didn’t get that chance.
Before she could get in position, his hands clamped on her hips, hauling her between his legs.
That was not on. A sub didn’t take over. Not unless told.
She should have reprimanded him, ordered him to stop.
She was too caught up in his reaction, the power of him, everything about him, she didn’t even consider it. The thought didn’t cross her mind.
If she was in her mind and not all about her body, him, what was happening between them, she would be shocked about this.
She was a Domme.
But she wasn’t shocked because she was too busy totally getting off on it.