Page 6 of It'll Be Fun
That was thetruepower he held—that he didn’t have to force her to stay with him.
That he was able to keep her happy and willingly with him,wantingto be with him, wantinghimandonlyhim.
Who wanted a slave forced to do anything? A sociopath?
No, thank you.
He didn’t want a doormat—he wanted a partner who was strong enough to stand up to him and keep him on his toes.
When she started coming, he felt her pussy squeezing around his cock first before her eyes fell shut and her moans began. He leaned in and kissed her, loving the way she greedily held his head in place and moaned into his mouth while he felt every quiver rolling through her cunt.
He could do that to her.
That was power, too.
Only once he was certain she’d finished did he start moving, fucking her hard and fast and knowing he wouldn’t last long now. She stared up at him with a sweetly hooded gaze as he felt himself tip over the edge and pumped every drop of cum in his balls into her before falling still so he could kiss her again.
Her fingers ruffled through his hair, massaging his scalp, nails gently raking. She nuzzled noses with him. “Management’s gonna throw us out,” she softly teased. “Rule violation.”
He smiled. “Lucky thing I know a guy, huh?”
Chapter Three
Eliza headed away from the restaurant with a long to-do list on her phone awaiting her attention. Several errands to run that she’d taken off Rusty’s hands. He was spending the morning and part of the afternoon with Ron’s Viking group. The mixed Viking-slash-combat group had merged after a convoluted and failed opportunistic coup on the part of a teenaged demagogue whose ass Eliza thoroughly kicked.
She deserved it.
The girl had mistakenly thought the group, which had been in existence since Rusty and Eliza were literally kids younger than the girl was, should totally change their methods.
Including, unfortunately, neglecting safety issues.
Most of them fought with real weapons, or wasters that could still hurt someone, if not used properly. The girl had wanted to choreograph complex fight scenes from movies and yet failed to grasp that the participants still needed to know the basics of the moves—including safe fighting and how to fall—in case there was an oopsie.
Had Eliza not kicked her ass, it was only a matter of time before the girl got someone seriously injured or killed, a point Eliza thoroughly drove home to her with a little pain of her own.
Fortunately, it looked like the girl was dropping out for good after her ignominious and completely deserved ass-kicking.
Eliza had sat down the girl’s friends—and their parents—for a very stern lecture about why she’d approached the issue the way she had, complete with pictures, some she’d taken herself, of injuries that could result by not knowing the right way to safely fight in the first place.
The few parents who had grumbled about Eliza’s draconian teaching method immediately apologized to her when they realized she was completely right.
Now, the group got together with Ron’s Viking reenactment group for fun, combat, crafts, costuming, and they got to do it all over at Wylie and Everett’s property. They had a couple hundred acres of homestead, and hosted the groups for their activities. It saved the Viking group a drive to the state park they’d been using, it allowed the other group to get valuable training in alternative fighting styles, and it was a fun fitness activity for whole families. The crafters set up picnic tents to do things like chainmaille, leatherwork, costuming, and other crafts. Eliza did have fun with the combat and helping train the newer members, but it was the first Saturday in November in Florida, and still hot as balls.
That meant no way in hell was she getting out there today. Not when they were slated to volunteer at the club tonight. She’d be exhausted if she did that.
The barbarian, however, loved getting hot and sweaty and the crap half beaten out of him as a breathing sparring dummy. He’d had a grind of a work week and the extra masochism always helped him unwind, meaning less work for her.
Plus, since he was now in charge of their combat group, he kind of needed to be there.
Today, she needed to hit the pet store, grocery store, office supply store, craft store, and Target.
The last for first-aid supplies, because their kit was running low, and he’d no doubt have one or two new wounds that would need tending by the time he returned home.
It’d be a little bit of a pain not having her SUV to do it all in, but she’d sent Rusty off today in hers because of all his gear. Not only did he have his usual stuff, but he was now accumulating his own Viking kit, including a shield, sword, helm, and other various accoutrements.
He didn’t do shit half-assed, that was for sure.
With all those errands completed, she returned home, performed the bully-dog dance around their two bulldogs to keep from getting slimed so she could turn off the alarm, and took them out for walkies before she started unloading the car.
