Page 63 of Savage Vows

With her eyes closed, she tips back her head, then slowly, reluctantly, she kicks off her shoes.

“Keep going.”

She pulls down her leggings until she’s standing in front of me wearing nothing but a thong. I’m not sure whether to require that she wear those all the time or to forbid her from ever slipping on another pair. Imagining the sight of her ass, so exposed, will make it impossible for me to focus. “Now the panties.”

Moments later, she’s bare for me. If I could, I’d keep her this way, always. “Tell me what you were thinking about.”

Her gaze flicks to my cock, then back up to my face. “You,” she confesses, her voice hoarse with embarrassment. “I was thinking about you.”

I’m shocked. Delighted. A fresh wave of possessiveness rocks me. “Were you?”

“After that spanking…”

“Did you fuck yourself with your fingers? Or did you use something else?”

The color on her face deepens. “I…” She hesitates, looking away from me. “I used a paintbrush.”

Jesus.

The image makes my cock harder. This is the stuff that will fuel my fantasies. “Show me,” I urge.

“I’m…”

I take her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. “You’re going to be my wife. We’ll share everything. You’ll have no secrets from me.”

“Does that go for you as well?”

“Yeah. It does. Though I’d always rather fuck you, I’ll show you how I masturbate. And I’ll make you give me a hand job from time to time.” Who could have imagined she’d be so perfect for me?

“I don’t usually, uhm, pleasure myself. But… Well…” She balls her hands at her sides. “I’ve never been with anyone like you.”

“And me forbidding you from touching yourself added a temptation you couldn’t resist.”

“It did.”

From the beginning, I’ve called her my little rebel, so her admission shouldn’t come as a surprise. “I want to see what you did.”

After hesitating for a few more seconds, she turns and walks to her art supplies. She picks up a thick paintbrush with asmooth and rounded handle. Then she looks over her shoulder at me.

“In front of the window, like you were earlier.”

Taking her sweet time, she finally stands where I indicated. Then I move in front of her. Folding my arms across my chest, I tell her, “I’m waiting.”

Keeping her gaze cast down, she spreads her legs wide. The sight of her bare pussy glistening with her arousal makes me throb.

Slowly she trails the paintbrush down her stomach, then slides it between her folds, rocking back and forth, using the wood to tease her clit.

“You like that.”

Without directly responding to my question, she moans.

Moments later, her breath catching, she begins to fuck herself with it.

The combination of her actions, her soft moans, and the scent of her arousal, drives me wild.

I’m hungry to watch her come undone, want to see her lose control.

“Faster,” I command, my voice rough. “Fuck yourself faster, little rebel.”

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