Page 28 of The Billionaire Submissive
“The hell it was. I’m just getting started.”
He’d said the image of the Mistress forcing the sub to pleasure her on his knees had been appealing. Now she knew it hadn’t been a joke or random comment on his part.
“Then at least get up here and give me that dick so I can enjoy you too.”
“No.” He jerked forward, trying to get his mouth back on her. “When I come again, it’ll be inside you.”
“Did you just now fucking tell meno?” Furious, she used his hair to pull herself up to her knees, dragged him up on the bed and then grabbed his cock with both hands. She squeezed him hard enough his eyes about popped out of his head and he gave up all pretense of ignoring her will. Face slack, he stared at her, his eyes wide and dazed. This harsher, ugly side of her didn’t come out very often, but evidently he liked it. He liked it so much he licked his lips and she could see the thought rumbling around in his head that maybe he’d have to tell her no again real soon. “Did you have the fuckingaudacityto tell me how you’re going to come again? Maybe I won’t let you come at all.”
Proud, arrogant Donovan Morgan whimpered. “Mistress.”
She shoved him down on his back, whirled around to straddle his head and took his cock as deep into her mouth as she could go. But she didn’t make it easy for him to get his mouth on her. He had to wrap his arms around her hips and lift his face up to lick her. With a hand firm around the base of his cock, she sucked and bobbed until he was hard, swollen, muscles quivering across his stomach, and then she lifted her head, leaving him trembling right on the edge.
“Don’t you come, Donovan. Hold it. While I sit on your face awhile.”
Rising up, she settled back on her heels, pressing him down to the mattress beneath her. His hands tightened on her thighs, drawing her down hard enough she’d probably have bruises tomorrow. He was too damned talented with his tongue for her to care. Holding her clit in his mouth, he ran his tongue up and around, sizzling every nerve ending with electricity until the dam burst again. With a scream, she arched backward, lost her balance and almost fell off the bed. Luckily her flailing hand managed to grab onto something, one of the reading lamps above the headboard. She wrestled herself up and off her poor drowning submissive who still clung to her thighs with every intention of going to the death.
“I can take more, Mistress.”
Panting, she shoved her wild hair out of her eyes. “But I can’t. Condom?”
He lay flat on his back, eyes blazing, cock pointed toward the ceiling. Though it twitched toward her when she spoke. “You saw my medical test. It’s up to you.”
Her brain told her to get off the bed and dig around in the bedside table for protection. Just because they were both clean and she was most definitely on the pill didn’t mean they needed to share that level of intimacy and vulnerability. She’d never taken a man without a condom because she’d known it couldn’t last. She’d either been the calm, controlled Mistress or the passionate, lusty wench Lilly but she’d never been able to be both at the same time.
Until now.
“I’m not sharing you,” he growled out in his most forbiddingly arrogant voice meant to send weaker women away in tears. Even flat on his back and used by his Mistress until she’d feared he’d suffocate, he still managed to challenge her. “There’s no one else for me. No one but you.”
Flinging her body at him, she crawled up his legs and seated his cock deep in one hard thrust. His hands clamped down on her thighs and he arched beneath her, pushing up as deep as possible. She didn’t give him any quarter, squeezing with her muscles as hard as she could. She dragged his hands up to her breasts spilling over the corset and he didn’t need encouragement to squeeze her as hard as she gripped his cock inside her. Without lifting her hips, she rocked her pelvis, rubbing her clit against the base of his cock, tiny little circles designed to drive them both higher, to the very edge of a precipice she could usually only dream about.
“Mistress.” It was the same plea he’d given her at Dmitri’s. Half question, half SOS.
“Grip the headboard so I can fuck you in earnest.”
He released her breasts and wrapped his palms around the sleek chrome of his very modern slatted headboard.
She rose up, pulling herself up the length of his cock until just the tip throbbed inside her. “Hold on for dear life, Donovan. When I come, you come. Not before.”
“Yes, Mistress.” His voice quivered, but his eyes still held the fire of determination. He’d do what she told him or die trying.
Closing her eyes, she threw herself headlong off the edge. She braced her hands on his chest and rode him hard, slamming her hips down on him over and over, faster, pushing herself to the very edge of her strength and endurance. Her thighs ached, her pussy throbbed, filled with him so deep it felt like he’d punch a hole through the other side. Sweat burned her eyes, her lungs on fire. And it still wasn’t enough.
Until he roared out her name.
Digging her fingers into him, she let her head fall back as every barrier in her mind came down. It was like leaping out of an airplane without a parachute. Soaring without a net. She lost all sense of direction, tumbling, spinning out of control while her body convulsed with his. She couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t catch herself this time. She was going to fall hard.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered against her ear.
He wrapped himself around her, a cocoon of hot, delicious living flesh tangled with hers so she couldn’t tell where he started and she ended. They were sweaty. Caked in cherries and whipped cream. And she was too tired and sated to care.
Chapter Nine
Donovan took one look around his bedroom and decided he’d better invest in a top-notch housecleaning company. And probably an electrician, he added, noting the reading lamp. It hung askew, dangling from wires out of a hole in the wall.
Also a furniture chain, because he’d bent the decorative bars of the headboard.
The comforter wasn’t salvageable.
