Page 74 of The Anchor Holds

Elliot ran his cock along the length of my pussy, torturing me, lubricating himself. I wanted to cry in frustration, my nails digging into where I was holding his shoulders to steady myself. Me, naked, teetering above his cock as he was fully clothed below me. It felt tawdry, like I was his sex slave.

I fucking loved it.

I thought I knew what he was going to do, that he was going to torture me some more, keep me on the precipice of an orgasm. But he didn’t.

“Look at me, Calliope.” Prior to his barked command, I hadn’t realized I’d squeezed my eyes shut.

They burst open, and the second our eyes met, he plunged into me.

I let out a muffled cry at the brutal intrusion and came within seconds of the first surge. But he didn’t stop, he kept thrusting upward as stars marred my vision, as my body clenched around him, waves crashing over me. More tears poured from the sides of my eyes at the power of the orgasm, the most intense I’d ever had. Even stronger than my last time with him. Last time, when we’d only touched the edge of this dynamic. Of me completely submitting to him.

He kept fucking me, barely having time to recover from the first wave before plunging almost straight into the second. The sensations seizing my body grew more intense as he let out a grunt as he came. Feeling his release inside me magnified everything, shooting my pleasure to heights that I didn’t know were possible.

Somehow, he kept going, going until he was fully drained.

By the time we were both done, I’d given him all of my weight, collapsing against him, cock still inside me.

I briefly worried if the chair would be able to hold our weight, but the thought was only fleeting. I couldn’t hold on to anythingproperly. My body was spent, everything wrung out of me. I felt empty yet impossibly full at the same time.

We stayed like that, both of us breathing heavily, my body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Then Elliot grabbed my chin, savagely kissing me. “You think I’m done with you?”

His hand squeezed my bare ass as he stood, somehow expertly stepping out of the jeans that had pooled around his ankles. He was still hard inside me, through another act of Elliot sorcery.

I let out a groan of pleasure, wrapping my legs around him.

“I’m far from fucking done with you, Calliope.”

While carrying me across the room, I didn’t look to see where he was taking us. I didn’t want to. I didn’t care. As long as I was going somewhere with Elliot inside me, I could relax.

As long as I was with Elliot Shaw, I was safe.

The same could not be said for him.

Fourteen

Simply The Best — Billianne

ELLIOT

Calliope Derrick.

Asleep in my bed. Naked. Exhausted. Cheeks flushed from the amount of times she’d come. She’d followed every order, she’d submitted to me completely. I knew that she’d never done that for any man, hadn’t let herself let go of control. It was a big fucking deal to me.

It waseverythingto me.

Very quickly, it was becoming clear thatCalliope Derrickwas everything to me. It should’ve scared me, the speed at which I was becoming fucking enchanted by her. But I didn’t spook easily, and it felt so fucking right. For her to unravel for me and me only. For her to feel safe with me.

What a gift that was. One I wouldn’t take lightly. A strong woman, one who never accepted help, never shared the load. One who had gone through some shit felt safe with me.

Yeah, that was a fucking gift.

I brushed her hair from her face. She was splayed across my chest, where she’d passed out seconds after I’d pulled my cock from her. She hadn’t even woken when I’d gotten up to get a washcloth to clean her with, nor when I’d gradually rubbed it across her inner thighs, her pussy, which was red, swollen from the attention I’d given it.

I took my time doing that, taking care of her while she slept. When I’d climbed back into bed, lifted her onto my chest and held her tight, she’d let out a moan of contentment yet stayed asleep. No arguing about the intimate position. Nope, she’d curled into me like she was made for me.

She was. Calliope Derrick was made for me. Designed to obey me when we both consented to it. To argue with me everywhere else in life.

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