Page 33 of Prince of Control
“What?” she asks in Russian, sounding dazed.
Good. She’s there.
I take over, releasing her from the obligation of speech or decisions. “I’m going to fuck you with my tongue,” I tell her. “And then I’m going to decide if you get my fingers or my cock. And you’re going to be a good girl and take it. Understand?”
“Da.”
I’d prefer a yes sir, but I won’t ask for it tonight. Tonight is about her pleasure. Teaching her to yield to my lead. Showing her how well I can take care of her needs.
I need her trust to keep her safe.
But I desire her full surrender.
I want her on her knees every night for me, begging for my touch. My praise. For her release.
I don’t want to own her contractually. I want to fully possess my wife–body, mind, and fucking soul.
“That’s good.” I rub her clit with my thumb, and she jerks and whimpers with need. I lick into her, bathing her with the flat of my tongue, sucking her labia, penetrating. I penetrate her with my thumb and suck her clit, and she starts to cry out in short, staccato beats.
“Oh, oh, oh, oh.”
“That’s it, beautiful.” Time to switch things up. I want to keep her in a prolonged state of arousal before I let her come. It will make the orgasm all the juicer.
I stand and whip her around to face the wall again, delivering several medium-hard spanks to her round ass–right, left, middle.
“Oh! Wait! Why?” she cries out.
I grip her hips and twist her back to face me, pinning her pelvis against the wall and lifting her thigh to give me access to her core.
“Why what?” I kiss her hard, bending my knees so the head of my cock prods her entrance. “Why did I spank you?” I pull my face back enough to find her gaze and see confusion there.
I celebrate the fuck out of it. It means she was trying to please me. I tamed her, at least for this moment. This scene.
“Because your ass is too perfect not to spank, angel. Because it gives you fresh stimulation.”
I grip my cock and rub it across her cunt. “Feel how wet you are?”
I kiss her with bruising force, my teeth scraping her lips. She moans into my mouth. I suck her lower lip as I pull away.
“And because I wanted to. It’s for my pleasure and yours.” I lean my forehead against hers. As our breath mingles, I work the head of my cock into her entrance. “You want to ride my cock tonight?”
One last chance for her to refuse. I know she’s not going to, but I want her to understand it’s her choice. I may be dominant, but it’s always consensual.
She reaches for my waist and pulls my hips toward her.
“Say it,” I demand even as I press forward, parting her to take me.
“Da.”
I might have to learn to dirty talk in Russian for my bride. I’m better listening and reading it than speaking, and I obviously never picked up sex talk from my dad. I make a mental note to watch some Russian porn.
I ease slowly into her. She’s sopping wet, but her channel is tight, and my dick is big. I don’t want to hurt her. As I push in, inch by inch, my palms rove over her body–along her sides, across her breasts, down her back to grip her ass.
I trace my middle finger down her crack and press against her anus when I fill her to the hilt.
Her nails score my shoulders as she cries out.
“That’s right, malyshka. Take your husband’s cock.”
