Page 30 of Inevitably Yours

Gus hadher finger in her mouth tasting John for the first time, and she didn’t know what came over her. She was not this brave, not with a partner, anyway. She explored with toys and masturbatory aids, but none of her few partners had ever wanted to go beyond hop on, get off, and go to sleep. Her knowledge seemed to attract men who needed her to take charge, help them reach orgasm, and then suffer in silence as they snored away.

Not a single partner she ever had cared about her fulfillment, her pleasure. Nor had she felt comfortable enough with any of them to ask for or take what she wanted. Up until five minutes ago, her only orgasms had been at her own hand. But John had made it his mission to wring pleasure from her before seeking his own fulfillment. I wonder if he knows that, if he understands the importance of what just happened? Not the sucking his semen off my fingers part, but the making me scream part.

Gus’ actual sex life had been very unsatisfying. While she helped others in that arena, she couldn’t seem to help herself. Not for lack of wanting to, she just was never bold enough to put her thoughts into actions. With John, it just felt different. He took charge, was in control, freeing her to explore.

Making her feel cherished didn’t hurt. When she observed the pleasure he took from her, she suddenly felt desirable, strong…sure. Sure enough to reach down and massage his cum into her skin and lick it from her fingers and savor it, all while staring him boldly in the eyes.

And boy, was she glad she had. When John told her to see him as he had seen her, she was confused. Baffled. Having seen other men come, she didn’t understand the significance of it or the sheer power it possessed when witnessed through a haze of mutual pleasure.

Pride. She had caught a look of wonder and pride in John’s denim eyes as he watched her in the throes of passion. She didn’t comprehend the weight of it until she saw him in that same state and understood that it was something about her that brought him to that point.

She swelled with pride, and her confidence soared. With this man, she could ask for what she wanted; she could take it. He would allow her to take it and grant her requests as he saw fit, and that was a beautiful thing—one she never knew she craved until now. One that will devastate me if he takes it away.

That last thought that crept into her head breeched the cloak of pleasure she was wrapped in, froze her soul, and robbed her of her breath. John was saying all the right things and looking at her like she was essential to his future, but this was sex. No matter the name she called it, it was sex, and people said and did things during sexual encounters they didn’t mean or expect.

“Where are you, Augusta?” John’s voice reached into her overthinking bubble and captured her attention. Thank God, because I was spiraling and ruining this. If she only got one night, she was dang sure not going to waste it. She could deal with the disappointment and depression tomorrow. Tonight, she still wanted to make love to the body of the man who held her heart.

“I’m right here with you. I just took a little side trip, but I’m back now.” Dang it, why did I admit that? Something about this visceral moment made her want to be completely honest. Or maybe it was his authoritative tone. Phrased as a question or not, it was a demand for her to tell him.

“Hmm, then I’m not doing a very good job if your mind had time to wander. I want you focused on me, on us…on this.” He took her jaw in his hand—a hand that smelled like her and him combined—commanding her attention and compliance. “I demand it, understood?” Her voice fled and her empty pussy clenched. She nodded. “Good girl, now, roll over and present that juicy ass to me as if I own it…because tonight, I do.”

John helped her on to all fours, piled pillows under her belly to relieve the weight, and hinged her legs so it felt like a stress-free position. She folded her arms and rested her head on her forearms, making a mental note to remember this position for labor.

This was pretty much the only choice for now, her stomach was so large that it was either this or big spoon-little spoon, and she wasn’t sure she could bend at the hips enough to be little spoon.

Gus had never felt comfortable with her lady bits up in the air like this before. Of course, she had only tried it once and hated it. Her boyfriend had made it seem dirty, and not in the good way. It also did nothing for her; she found even less pleasure than missionary. It had been uncomfortable and awkward.

She remembered just closing her eyes and breathing through it while Mickey went to town behind her, talking about how much tighter she felt like this and how he might actually be able to feel enough to enjoy himself. Asshole. It wasn’t like he didn’t get off every time anyway or that it was her fault. The reason he couldn’t “feel anything” was probably the fact that when I gave him head, my fingers overlapped, and I didn’t even gag.

Mickey was an insecure jerk who tore her down every chance he got to compensate for his short comings. He had been her first, the one her parents had picked out for her. Bright future and good stock. Yep, those were the selling points her parents valued. It didn’t matter that he told her after the first time they slept together that she would stay at home, look pretty, breed him good progeny, and he would take a mistress to see to his pleasure since she couldn’t handle it.

Timothy and Melody Thorne just tsked and said that’s how things were in society when she told them—like it was medieval times or something and they weren’t the people who gave her life. Her mother scolded her for speaking of such things, actually scolded her. She said it was just the life Gus was born to and it was how things were done, but if she were discrete enough, she could find her own…distractions.

“Oh fuck,” Gus shouted. Yep, she dropped an F-bomb when John unceremoniously buried himself to the hilt and stopped completely. He held still, like a statue…a statue with a thick cock buried in her practically to her throat, stretching her to a width she had never even imagined. Yes, a hard…potentially pissed off statue. The only sound after her curse cut through the night was heavy breathing coming from behind.

Gus held her breath, even after her body had adjusted. She was waiting for the other shoe or an explanation or…punishment. For what, she didn’t know, but she knew he was not a happy man. Even buried in her and connecting with her like no one else had, he was distanced somehow.

She wanted to ask, but something told her that would be a transgression. Without warning, just like he connected them, he disconnected. This time, she kept the “oh fuck” to herself. The sudden invasion didn’t hurt, she was wetter than she had ever been in her life—it had been a shock, yes, but no pain. However, his withdrawal did come with pain. And Gus felt it much deeper than physical.

John covered her back, bringing his mouth to her ear and resting his cock, coated in her juices, between her ass cheeks. She felt his heart beat between her shoulder blades and with her ass. It was racing, as was hers.

“While I won’t paddle your ass in your condition, make no mistake, I will punish you.” He nipped her ear. Between his authority and his actions, Gus almost spiraled into an orgasm without having her fun zones touched. John groped her breast, eliciting a squeal of surprise. That hand slid over and around her belly to grab her pussy. He thrust one finger in and right back out.

He presented her that finger with the command, “Suck.” She eagerly complied. “Do you want my dick in any of the places my finger has been?” He posed the question with a thrust between her rounded globes and his teeth latching on to her ear.

She nodded as deeply as she could with the hold John had on her ear and mouth. Gus had never thought of herself as a woman who liked this rough, almost abusive style of control. She didn’t find it offensive or abusive at all. Not from John.

“Good, because I want that too...and more. I want my cock pistoning in and out of that sweet pussy until I push you over the edge. Then, as soon as you can breathe again, I want it buried in your throat. Watching your neck ripple as you swallow and swallow just to take me all the way down will bring me to the razor-thin edge. And when you look up at me, eyes wide with pleasure, and perhaps the slightest touch of trepidation, I'll come down your throat, and you'll thank me for allowing you the pleasure.”

John raised himself back up behind her, and she was too turned on to even wonder what he was doing or what he would say next. But she didn’t need to wonder, because she felt the head of his cock knocking at her back door for entrance. She tensed; this was completely uncharted territory for her. She had read books on the finer points of anal—push out while he pushes in, lots and lots of lube, which they didn’t have. She raised her head to protest, and John gently pushed it back down.

“No, Augusta. I do not plan to take you there tonight, so relax.” Breathing a sigh of relief, and maybe a touch of disappointment, Gus shook her ass, hoping to encourage him back into her aching pussy. His words and authority had her turned on beyond her limits. When she was just about to beg him to fuck her, John rubbed the slick head against her clit.

Back and forth, back and forth. Just fast enough to create a delicious friction but just slow enough to keep her from soaring. “As I was saying, if, you want my cock where my fingers have been, including this greedy pussy of yours, you will not,” he punctuated with a hard thrust against her, “Be. Anywhere. But. Here. Focused. On. This!”

His voice rose with each word until he was practically shouting. Each thrust against her was harder than the one before. And of course, she was wetter.

“Understood?”

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