Page 93 of Ezekiel
“I want intimacy with you, angel. Both as your husband and as your Dominant. But I want to be careful,” I reasoned with her, feeling the anxiety wane.
“I can’t handle you treating me like I’m some fragile little flower that will crush and crumble at the slightest issue. I’m stronger than that. You need to trust me, just as you expect me to trust you. That’s what it is, right? A power exchange. I trust you to guide me in our kink and to keep me safe. You trust me to use my safewords. So trust me, Zeke,” she implored.
“I just think we need to take things slow,” I added. Her eyes rolled dramatically, and she groaned with renewed frustration.
“I’m so sick of slow. I want things how they were! I want…” she trailed off, standing to pace again. How had I never noticed how alike we were, in some ways? We both paced when we got frustrated, blowing off steam physically.
“You want what?” I urged her, feeling the dominance rise within me again.
“I want it all, dammit! I want you to be you! Stop being fucking careful with me and just —”
Her words cut off as I stood quickly from the bed, my hand pressing against her chest and pushing her back roughly until her back landed against the door with a firm thud.
She gasped, her eyes meeting mine. The only thing I saw there was pure, unadulterated lust.
Angel asked. Sir would provide.
My hand moved around her throat, not squeezing but giving just enough pressure that she gulped audibly.
“Message fucking received,” I growled. The desire I had been holding at bay all week simmered and bubbled up to the surface until it was spilling over. I needed her. She needed me.
My mouth claimed hers in a battle of lips, tongue, and teeth. She met every touch with equal passion and fire. She pushed back against the door, fighting me. Her hands found my hair, her fingers twisting in my curly locks and pulling my head back until our lips parted. The display of dominance coming from her was unexpected — and hot as fuck.
“I am in charge here,” I bit out, my eyes narrowing.
“Then fucking take charge,” she pushed right back. That fire was going to set us both alight, but what a way to burn.
My hands grabbed her wrists forcefully, gripping them tightly in my fingers and pushing them above her head against the door roughly. I didn’t fucking care if I left bruises. She arched against me, her body pulling away from the wall until her hips bumped against my own, her softness meeting my hardness and writhing against me.
I leaned in to claim her lips once more, but she bit the air between us, her own eyes narrowing in a challenge. The gauntlet had been thrown, and I could not let that stand. My leg slid between hers, my knee butting up against her cunt roughly until she groaned.
“Fuck, I can feel how hot your cunt is even through our clothing, angel. Such a needy little slut.” The derogatory words flew past my lips, her eyes rolling back in her head at my crudeness. She wanted hot and heavy? She was about to get just that.
“Stay the fuck still,” I commanded.
“No.” Her protest was firm, unyielding.
“Yes.” I fought right back. Pushing her back into the doorway harder, holding her hands above her head with one of my own. She grunted, her eyes rolling back again in pure delight. My knee rubbed against her core roughly. “Keep your hands there.” This time, she listened.
My hands found the neckline of her dress and with a firm yank, I ripped the cloth down the middle, the buttons that ran up the front of her dress from neckline to floor, skittering over the hardwood floors of our bedroom.
“Fuck me,” she groaned, gasping, her breasts heaving as she panted her desire for me, for this, for us.
“I’m about to,” I grunted. Grabbing the front of her bra, I pulled her from the wall, reaching a hand around back to unfasten the clasp with a dexterity I didn’t know I possessed. It came apart quickly, for probably the first time in my life. I hoisted her up into my arms until her legs wrapped around me.
I didn’t give her a moment to speak, taking her lips with mine, biting her lower lip until she opened for me, letting me taste her sweetness. I spun on my heel, turning towards the bed and throwing her down on top of it. She landed with a small bounce, but couldn’t move before I had grabbed an ankle in each hand and yanked her down towards the foot of the bed, spreading her legs roughly.
Her panty-clad sex was wet with her need. My cock throbbed, wanting to be released. Wanting to be buried in that molten heat until I exploded. I pulled the gusset away from her body, fisting my hand in the wet material and pulling until the material split and ripped noisily, pulling from her body roughly enough to bite into her skin before finally shredding.
“Zeke,” she groaned, her eyes on fire for me.
“This is your one warning. Call me that again and you’ll get spanked. Hard.” My words were a threat, one I was more than willing, and excited, to make into a promise.
She eyed me carefully before the corners of her lips quirked up in a smirk of bratty attitude.
“Zeke.” She spoke decisively, without hesitation. My reaction was just as decisive. I yanked her to me, flipping her onto her stomach in one fluid motion. She was over my lap in an instant, my hand coming down across her round, bare ass with a loud smack that echoed in the quiet of our room.
“Fuck! Fuck!” she cried out, reaching back to cover herself from my next blow.
