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Fight You
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Текст книги "Fight You"


Автор книги: Cynthia Dane



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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

KATHRYN

 

I see the change in his eyes.

It happens instantly.

Even though I knew it would happen, I’m still struck by how much Ian Mathers changes when he becomes a Dom.

No, he’s always been a Dom. This whole time we fooled around, flirted, and even fucked without a collar on, he’s been a Dom. Just a Dom who is holding back his true desires… for the sake of my sanity.

None of that matters now.

I shake in my knee-high boots, not because I’m scared, although he probably reads me that way. After the first time we tried this? I don’t blame him at all.

I’m nervous, but I’m not scared.

Truly, I’m excited.

No way do I know what to expect. I don’t know what’s going to happen, how I’ll feel, or if his promises will really come true. But I see this change that pierces me right in the fucking heart and threatens to turn me inside out.

His eyes have gone from kind and tender to…

To…

Consuming.

These are feelings he’s harbored in him this whole time, but I’m only now seeing them. He’s letting me see them, because he’s comfortable with me.

I’ve promised to trust him, but I’m not used to being looked at as if I’m a piece of meat. Like a woman whose sole purpose is to please him and do whatever he commands.

These shivers trembling my body… are they because I’m actually afraid? Or because I’m finally getting what I’ve always wanted?

Please, Ian. Go slow. My brain doesn’t know what it wants yet.

His arms wrap around me, tightly, possessively. I’m his. I’m the prize he won, the woman he’s been coveting, and now he gets the smug satisfaction knowing that I walked through that door a Domme… and will hopefully walk out his obedient sub.

“Look at you, all dressed up for me.” Ian kisses my throat, sucking my flesh and lashing his tongue against my skin until I’m whimpering. I don’t know where to put my hands. On his shoulders? Around his waist? Do I wait for him to decide for me? “You’re beautiful.” My jacket bunches up in his hands, and I briefly worry that he’ll rip off my clothes. “You’re always beautiful, Katie. Just thinking about you at work or here at home makes me so fucking hard.”

He grips my ass, fingers attempting to push beneath the restraint of the corset. Now I am whimpering. It’s a sound I’m not used to emitting.

“You feel it?” Ian takes my hand and shoves it between us, forcing my fingers to touch his erection. Yet I can’t get excited. If this were a collarless scenario, fuck yeah, I’d grab his cock and tease it until he was tempted to shove me down on the floor and fuck me – as Ian. Not a Dom.

Is there really a difference at this point?

“Yes…” My other hand braces against his muscular arm. “I feel it…”

“You feel what?

Oh God, he’s growling already. It both turns me on and sends those frightening shivers.

“I feel it… sir.”

That’s the dirtiest word I could possibly say. Sir. Fuck, cunt, shit, pussy… haha, those are baby words. “Sir” means so much more. It means I’m letting myself go. That pretty soon I won’t even recognize myself anymore.

“Sir” is the most powerful word I could possibly say. I’m deferring to Ian. I’m saying he’s above me. That he controls everything from here on out.

It’s hard to get off my tongue.

“That’s what you do to me.” His hand wraps around my wrist, holding it to his cock. “Every time I think about you, in any situation, I get hard and can barely redirect my thoughts.” Ian kisses my cheek, and although it feels gentle at first, there’s a bite to it that can’t go unnoticed. “You know what?”

He pauses. My breath is rough, but I manage to drag up a response. “What, sir?”

Now it’s his breath on my lips, hot and welcoming. I’m tempted to kiss him, but I refrain, because he hasn’t given me permission yet. I know this game. I must not overstep my bounds.

“You’re the only woman who does this to me. Has ever done this to me.”

Perhaps it’s the current state of my brain. Perhaps it’s the sheer amount of disbelief I feel. Yet nothing in Ian’s voice insinuates he’s lying. Could it be? Is he really into me that much? Is it possible that I’m really the only woman who gets him hard with every thought?

I can’t believe it. This must be for the scene.

Ian’s voice is back in my ear, and I’m melting, every part of my body belonging to him if he wills it. “I want to take you, Katie. I want to be so rough with you that you don’t know how to walk anymore. Do you know what it means to be utterly claimed? Do you know what it means to follow your most basic animal instincts and turn into a primal creature who can’t control herself? That’s what I’m going to do to you. That’s all I want to do to you.”

My grip falters around him. Ian jerks back, but does not release me.

“Starting tonight, you will learn how to let go of who you really are. You’ll enter a world where all that matters is how sexual you feel. All you have to do is serve. All you have to do is enjoy serving and in turn being taken care of.”

It sounds tempting. God knows I need help letting go of my insecurities and everything else that makes me Kathryn Alison, the woman people think they know.

Ian is the only person – the only man – I can trust with this. I don’t know exactly what I feel for him. My heart wavers between wanting to fall in love and wanting to run far, far away.

Tonight will decide a lot of things.

“Do you want that, Katie? Do you want me to take care of you? Do you want your mind to be blissfully blank as you serve me, and take any punishment you deserve?”

I’m unaware of when it happened, but my hand is no longer around his cock. Instead, both of them are clutching his sides, attempting to hold myself in his embrace. I want to love on him. I want to feel him push into me, to overcome me with his strength and make me his.

That’s it, isn’t it? That’s part of a sub’s headspace. A glimmer of hope that I can do this strikes me. In another life, maybe I was born a natural sub.

No, I am a natural sub.

I have to be, otherwise this night will mean nothing.

“Yes,’ I say, wondering where the strength in my voice has gone. “I would like that. I don’t want to have to think at all.”

“That’s right, my love.” Ian eases me back, but all I can hear as we walk toward the bedroom doorway is “my love.” “Being a sub means giving up control. It means putting everything you want and need into my hands. I’m taking you places you never thought possible. You thought you saw your subs experience ecstasy? You don’t know anything. The best part?”

We’re in his room, my body calling for that big, comfortable bed and wishing it could roll around in it, making love, cuddling, falling asleep together.

It happened once before. Why couldn’t it happen again?

“The best part is knowing I’m going to be the first Dom to do this to you.” Ian sits me on the edge of his bed, hands cupping my face as he looks down upon me. “I’m honored.”

He continues to pet my face as I sit here before him, drinking in the delightful sight of him. Tall, proud, strong. Ian’s wearing a more casual suit, the kind that’s cut to his body, probably made by the old tailor here in town. His pants are so crisp that they move with the utmost grace. His shirt, a very light rose that only enhances his masculinity, clings to his torso in such a way that I can see the outline of his muscles beneath. In true Ian Mathers fashion, he has left the top two buttons undone. The man doesn’t have a lot of hair on his chest – he’s not a super hairy guy in general, outside of his face when he doesn’t shave – but I can’t stop staring at…

How much I want him to overpower the fuck out of me.

“Katie…” Ian’s hands squeeze the back of my head, tipping it back and making me open to his lowering mouth.

Oh my fuck, he’s practically inhaling me!

I’ve never felt this man so famished before. He’s devouring my lips, suppressing my tongue in the bottom of my mouth, and making me feel so isolated and small that I don’t feel like there’s a world outside of this bathroom at all. Every time I slip into the abode of this room, I bring myself back, panicking a little, my moans both a reflection of my status in this relationship and my denial that I love this.

It’s okay, Kathryn. It’s okay to love this.

A grunt falls down my throat, and Ian steps back, leaving me disheveled on his bed. He looks me over. His grin makes me shudder.

“I’ve thought a lot about what I want to do to you.” Fingers dance in my hair, and at first I think he’s going to undo my twist… but his fingertips make nice with the corner of my mouth, the place he assaulted with that powerful tongue of his – I know where I’d like it to go next. “In the end, it wasn’t about what I wanted as much as your needs as the sub I’m training.”

Training. That word hits me right in the gut.

“Are you prepared to obey my every command tonight, Katie?”

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

Whenever I say that word, ripples course through his body. Damn. He likes it that much?

“Good. Now let me see some of your skin.”

Ian opens my jacket, nails scratching against my chest. He draws a trail along my shoulder, keeping my chin pointed so our gazes meet. His is so calm. So determined and resolute.

I have no idea what mine is like.

“Go on, darling. Adore me.”

What a strange thing to request. Most men would simply say they wanted a blowjob, because I’m under no disillusionment that he means anything else. Ian isn’t most men. He’s a Dom who isn’t afraid to voice what he wants.

And I understand what he means.

I told you, I like to feel worshipped as a Domme. I want to feel adored too. My sub is fated to cater to my every whim like a royal subject. I am privileged. I am worthy of sheer adoration. When your identity is wrapped up in praising someone else for existing… ha! What an easy life, indeed.

My hands caress the inside of his thighs, urging his erection farther upward, straining against his tailored pants. I feel comfortable… it helps that this is my third time sucking him off, and the first two times were good. Minus how the first one ended, anyway.

I glance up at him, startled with realization.

“Relax, Katie.” The way he strokes my hair is hypnotic. “I’m not coming on your face.”

Even though it does relax me, I still take my time unzipping his pants and feeling the silk sheen of his boxers. He’s so erect already that I have to manipulate the fabric over his cock, smiling as his wide tip nearly pops against my lips.

My touch surrounds his sack, still within his pants. My tongue flicks against his tip, riddled in precum. I can’t help it. I’m aroused that he’s already this aroused.

I take my time. A large part of me wants to swallow him whole and work my gag over the head of his cock, maybe squeeze his sack, and definitely drown myself in his scent… but I have to remind myself that this isn’t a normal night of sex. That’s what I would do without this collar on. The collar pulling at the hairs on my neck and reminding me of the pain he can deliver.

Moaning on his tip, I’m suddenly reminded of why I’m here.

“Fuck, Katie.” Ian clutches my twist and holds me down on his cock. I get the message loud and clear. “You’re amazing at this. I bet you’ve sucked a lot of cocks, huh?”

I look up at him with fight in my eyes. I don’t know what he’s trying to insinuate, and warn him with my gaze.

“Now don’t be petulant.” His other hand holds my head as well. The strength of both arms keeps me on his cock, and it’s becoming more difficult to look into his eyes. That’s what he wants. “I’m complimenting you. The only thing better than a woman trying it out for the first time is a woman who can jump right in and act like the queen of fellatio.”

Laughter enters his voice. I still don’t like what he’s implying.

“You love cock, don’t you baby?”

Well, that’s neither here nor there, is it? I’m here, I’m sucking him off, and it doesn’t matter if I think this is one of the most banal things or if I live to suck a dick every day. Either way, I am going to do it. For him.

Fuck, yes, I’m doing it for him. For the way he grunts, the way he thrusts down my throat, and the way his girth fills my mouth with promises of what’s to come for my cunt.

I pull off him enough to wrap my hand around his base. A new groan echoes in the bedroom. I know what I’m doing is exactly what he wants, even though he’ll pretend otherwise to keep me in line.

Ian, I know every trick of being dominant. You’ll do whatever it takes to seem like everything was your idea and that you’re in control.

“You know what I’m trying to say, don’t you?”

Against what we both really want, he steadies my head and gradually pulls out of my mouth. Saliva drips from the head of his cock and onto my chin. I try not to look at his glistening shaft and instead gaze into the hazel of his eyes.

“You know what I’m saying, Katie. I want to hear you say it first, though.”

I purse my lips in indignation.

“Katie,” Ian growls. “I want to hear you say it. And you have to mean it.”

Ah, and so we begin my utter debasement. It’s not enough to sit me down on his bed and shove his cock down my throat. Sure, I want him to do that. Do we have to address it? Why not let it happen? God, it’s almost like I’m with a Dom or something!

I guess I am one of those types. A lot of people would agree, especially if they knew I was heavy into kink. In fact, I was called such things a lot in high school. You know, back when I said fuck it and started screwing whichever guy I pleased. Like Ian. Well, I tried to screw him.

Fuck. That means he knows he’s right. Hence the smug look on his face as he’s got his cock hovering outside of my mouth.

Sometimes I really hate this guy.

“All right,” I begin, refusing to break eye contact. “You’ve got me, sir. I’m a big ol’ slut who loves cocks and sex.”

Amusement continues to tug at his lips. Were this everyday life, I don’t doubt for a second that Ian would throw his head back and laugh. Maybe he would banter with me about past sexual experiences, particularly as stupid teenagers.

This is not everyday life.

This is something else entirely.

“Do you?” Ian pushes an errant hair out of my face. “If that were true, you wouldn’t look so angry about it.”

What does he want from me? To rub my face on his cock and fuss over how much I love it?

Fuck that.

“I asked you a question, Katie.”

My eyes soften, but it’s not because I’m coming around to him. “I do, Ian. I love sucking cock. I love feeling it in my mouth and then that amazing feeling of a man coming all over my throat.” When he raises an eyebrow, I continue, empowered. “I love sex. I love riding cock, I love being impaled by it. I love the feeling of it as it enters my pussy and then burrows it way deeper inside. And you know what?”

His thumbs push into my cheeks. “What?”

I inhale deeply. “I secretly love it when you come inside me… sir.”

This is my first time admitting it out loud. Shit, this is one of my first times admitting it in my brain – how good it felt having Ian hold me down, reaching my core, and then filling me up with everything he had. The sounds. The scents. The feeling of it all. Is it any wonder people call me a slut? Maybe they don’t say it to my face anymore, but even I can’t deny how much I want him to do it to me again.

I’m trembling, because I’m imagining him doing it – coming inside of me.

His seed dripping from me. All over my skin. Taunting us both with how virile he is.

I’m a vessel.

For his pleasure.

For his seed.

This is simple biology, folks. Or at least that’s what my brain says as I realize I am thinking these things and want to die.

“I’m glad you discovered how much you love it.” We’re past acknowledging his cock bobbing before me. If he hasn’t asked me to get to sucking yet, I doubt he will anytime soon.

Sure enough, Ian lifts me by the arm and brings me across the room, removing my jacket as we go. There’s an ottoman here. An antique one, with brass accentuating every corner.

Before I’m bent down so my hands brace against it, I know what’s going to happen.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11

 

KATHRYN

 

Cold handcuffs keep me chained to the edge of the ottoman. My wrists are bound together, my back straight while my ass sticks up in the air behind me. My boots are flat on the carpet, but I know better than to kick them back or otherwise act impetuous.

“You’re a good girl for confessing like that, Katie.” Although his voice is soft, there’s a hint of foreboding in it. “For that, I’ll go easy on you.”

He spanks me.

Pain shoots through my ass, through my legs. My thighs feel like they’re on fire already, and the rest of my body is on high alert.

“You need to be punished, darling. Do you know what you’re being punished for?”

I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m too busy heaving breaths into the fabric of the ottoman because my ass fucking hurts.

Another strike. “Answer me, Katie.” His voice doesn’t sound so gentle now. “If you don’t, you will be denied.”

I both know and don’t know what that means. To be denied means to be edged, or to be brought to near orgasm and then left hanging, tortured. It’s an erotic punishment that I’m all too familiar with. The best male subs know how to meet my edging by holding back ejaculation. For a woman, it’s different.

I don’t know what it means in that Ian could do anything. Anything.

So, it’s probably a good idea if I answer.

“I don’t know, sir.” My throat is so damn dry. “I honestly don’t know why I need to be punished.”

“Really? You don’t know why? Think long and hard. It’s why you’re here.”

It’s why I’m here?

He doesn’t mean the thinking. He means the answer is why I’m here. Why I’ve asked him to train me to be submissive. His submissive.

“I need to be punished because I’m a slut, sir.”

This time when his hand touches me, it’s almost gentle. “That’s right. Being promiscuous and kinky is more than okay. You know that as well as I do. What you need help transcending is the guilt you feel from it.”

“I don’t feel…”

Spank!

“What was that? It almost sounded like you were saying you don’t feel guilty. Now I know that can’t be true. You wouldn’t have asked me to do this to you if you didn’t feel guilty about your need to submit. I know who you are, Katie. You’re used to being a Domme. You want power. You feel guilty giving up that control when so many other women fight to gain it.”

Fuck him.

Fuck him.

“I also need to punish you for blabbing your big mouth to my mother about our relationship. Do you know how much she tortured me today? I’m sick thinking about it. You need to learn your place, and your place is my good, obedient sub who doesn’t feel a shred of guilt for what I do to her.”

This next spank is the hardest yet. It pounds into my flesh, sending waves of pain mingling with pleasure all through my body.

It’s raw. It’s tormenting. It’s enough to make me think about the shit I felt before I came here. Back when I was wondering if this was the right thing to do.

Of course it is.

How could it not be?

I’m becoming more accepting of Ian’s machinations. I’m more and more okay with him manhandling me, taking me, giving me painful pleasure.

What I’m not accepting is the debasement from my end.

He wants me to beg. He wants me to get on my knees and beg to suck his cock, to get my clit rubbed, to be spanked.

He wants me to beg for him to come inside me.

I can’t do that yet.

“Do you understand why you’re here now, Katie?” Ian steps away, opening a drawer nearby. I can’t see what he’s looking for. I don’t want to know. “Do you understand why you need this?”

I bite my lip until it almost bleeds. “Because I’m ashamed of what I want from you.”

“That’s right. You shouldn’t feel ashamed. You need to have your mind and body purged of this shame you’re carrying around.” The drawer closes again. “Open your legs, my love.”

He called me it again. He called me his love.

Does he mean it?

I obey, forcing my legs farther apart and feeling the warm air against the crotch in my corset. Ian undoes the buttons giving him easy access. Soon enough, my ass is exposed, and my opening feels the air for the first time.

If I’m wet, he doesn’t yet comment on it.

Something soft and leathery taps my bare ass. My mind struggles to figure out what it is. Once I feel the broad shape of a crop caressing my skin, I seize up, a single word all over my lips.

“Pink!”

He continues to caress me. I have to trust that he heard and understood. “I’m going to smack you until you forget your shame. I’m going to bring you to the brink of immense pleasure. Your punishment is just, Katie.”

“Yes, sir…” I bury my face in my hands. “Thank you, sir.”

After a quaint chuckle, Ian thwacks me with the crop.

It’s a different pain from his bare hand, which until now is the only thing I’ve felt in this capacity. While Ian’s hand is harsh, but intimate, the crop offers such a unique touch and distance that I’m almost coming from that first thwack alone. Coming! I can barely believe it.

The leather stings. That’s the best way to describe it. An aching, sudden sting that awakens neurons that have never been stimulated before. I brace myself against the ottoman, panting, my moans falling so freely from my lips that I’m sure I’m going to get punished for it.

Soreness settles in.

My lips are trembling, and I hold in a sob. When Ian strikes the far side of my ass with the crop – a place yet untouched – I cry out in pure pain. “Pink,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut and hoping I don’t have to say the final word.

I’ve spanked a ton of subs before. Including with a crop. I know how asses and most subs react to them. Some people love having those welts cover their asses for a few days. Others sit there screaming, begging, wanting nothing but a hard spanking to bring them to nirvana.

Then there’s me, on the verge of tears.

“Ah, Katie.” His tender touch on my wounded flesh makes me squirm. “I wish you could see how stunning you are right now. So submissive and pink all over.” His thumb dips between my thighs and toys with my slit. Ian pokes me, sinking his thumb into me to the first knuckle.

I gasp. I can’t tell if it feels good or not. I’m so overwhelmed with pain and that deep ache of a spanking that any pleasure I feel is…

Is so fucking good.

“You’re not letting go of your ill-feelings yet. I am not going to stop until I hear you crying out in ecstasy. Then I’ll know you’re ready to obey me for the rest of the night.”

His hand holds my hip, bringing me against his still erect cock. Oh, fuck. Even through the pain, all I can think about is him sinking it deep within me, fucking me in this position until we both come.

Instead, he moves his hand back and hits me with his spread palm.

That’s it. I accept. He really is going to spank me until I scream for him to stop or I finally give him what he wants.

What I want.

Each strike of his hand or crop, all over my ass, my thighs, and even on top of my pussy, reminds me that I’m here to have this done to me. I walked willingly into this. I knew he was probably going to spank me again tonight. I knew there would be restraints. Pain. Dirty talk. I spent all of last night thinking about it, wishing Ian was there with me so he could whisper his reassurances into my ear.

“It’s okay to want this, Katie. It’s okay to let go of your power. It doesn’t make you weak. It doesn’t mean you aren’t respected. All it means is that you’re human. You need to release your anxieties like anyone else. This is how you want to do it.”

“Thank you, sir,” I whimper, wondering if he can hear me over the snap of the stinging crop. You know what? I don’t even feel it anymore. My flesh is so numb that all I get off on is the sound of the leather and hand meeting my soiled skin. My legs shake, trying to keep me up. It’s barely working. I’m about to completely lose it. “I’m gonna come, sir!”

Perhaps it’s impeccable timing. Or maybe Ian still has enough of his bearings to hit me once more, a raging sting spreading through my body and making me fucking fuck you holy shit.

He’s not penetrating me. He’s not stroking my clit or pinching a nipple. All Ian has done is strike my ass, and here I am, panting into the ottoman as my thighs shake in orgasm. Wetness covers my thighs in quick, gushing trickles.

I’m already spread, so it’s not hard for Ian to see what has happened.

“Did that feel good, Katie?” he softly asks. “Did you come because you were turned on?”

“Y… yes, sir.” I’m in a daze. A disbelieving daze.

“Good girl.” The crop lands beside me on the ottoman. “You’re starting to learn. Now…” I feel him behind me, his strength, his emotions, his body as the head of his cock pushes into my wet folds. Groaning, I bow my head, and I barely notice Ian pull apart my twist and take my long hair into his hand. “It’s time for me to see how well you can really obey. We’ll start by seeing how well you can control yourself.”

“Okay…”

“I’m gonna fuck you, Katie. Fuck you hard and fast, and your goal is to not come.”

What?

He’s kidding!

“You don’t think I’m serious? You haven’t earned the right to come again. You’re going to amuse and pleasure me first. If you come too soon? I will punish you… and you will not like my punishment.” He pinches my tender flesh, and I grimace. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Fuck no! What’s the point of all this if I’m not enjoying it? Not coming? I’m a woman, damnit. Part of the beauty of being female is endless orgasms if a guy plays it right.

I have to remind myself that this is about orgasm denial. I’m not used to that on my end.

Ian’s finger dips into me, and he remarks on how wet and eager I seem to be. I barely hear him. Even when his finger enters my mouth and I taste myself on him, all I can think about is how sore my ass is and what a sadist this guy can be.

God, I kinda love it.

“Oh my shit,” I mutter, eyes closing as Ian’s cock teases my opening. “Please fuck me…”

He clicks his tongue, pulling back out. “I like to hear you beg, Katie, but don’t get too eager. Remember, you’re not supposed to come. This isn’t about you. It’s about me.

I know that. What is he waiting for? He thinks I can’t control a fucking orgasm? He’s lucky to get me off purely from vaginal stimulation, I mean…

The world goes black as he thrusts into me.

It’s crude. It hurts a little, especially with my sore ass. But holy fuck am I glad to have him inside me, finally!

He holds still within me, his self-indulgent groan sinking into my chest. I must be tight, wet, and definitely warm. All I feel is his sheer girth taking up my insides, my inner walls resting snugly around his shaft and tip. Fuck me, it feels so… comfortable.

Ian slowly pulls out. Wetness drips from him, from me. Chuckling, Ian says I look like I have a leak he needs to plug up before it gets all over his bedroom carpet. Oh my God, what a way to break the mood!

Then he slams back into me, and I don’t fucking care what he says. He can say anything. Do anything. All I care is that Ian Mathers is deep within me, his hands clamping down on my hips as he begins to thrust with increasing speed.

In this position, every thrust shoots me forward and then pulls me back again. My hair is still tight in his hand, and he pulls, yanking my head back and making my scalp tingle in pain like my ass. My earrings clink against my neck. My collar tugs at my hairs. Everything is a mixture of pain and pleasure, and when Ian calls me his “dirty girl,” all I know is that yes, yes I am his damned to hell dirty girl.

I’m not used to this kind of debasement. A man bending me over, chaining me to his home, and then using my body however he wishes. The movements he conducts are not with my pleasure in mind. His cock doesn’t search for my G-spot. It doesn’t pull out and rub against my clit. It’s raw desire on his end. A man who takes what he wants and leaves the rest behind.

He’s taking me. I’m what he wants.

What I leave behind me is up to me.

This shouldn’t make me come. Not sex like this. It might get me wetter, it may satisfy my craving to feel full and fucked, but it’s not going to give me an orgasm.

It shouldn’t, anyway.

Yet here we are, my body starting to shudder because my brain is latched onto the idea of Ian Mathers using me and it’s so…

It’s so…

Liberating.

This fucking hot man with his talented cock wants me. He wants to rescue me from the evil thoughts that constantly torment my head. Not being good enough for my family. Not being accomplished enough for the business world. Nobody taking me seriously because they see a woman playing around until she gets married. People talking behind my back and saying that I overcompensate with Doming because I’m too insecure to do anything else.

Well, how about this, huh? Is this good enough? Is dressing like this and having Ian grip my hips, pull my hair, and fuck me wide open with his cock good enough?

Oh my God, his fingers are so strong, so possessive on my flesh. He’s not even touching my clit. He’s grunting, though. Such a fucking hot grunt that sends so many shivers through me. He wants me. He can’t control himself. I’m his darling, his love, his baby…

His Katie.

It’s happening. My brain explodes in relief, in the knowledge that I can release everything I ever thought I knew I wanted. It doesn’t matter. This is where we are now. This is who I am in this moment.

His sub.

“Oh, God!” I don’t merely praise him. I praise Ian as well, my mind completely losing it. All I feel is him crashing into me, taking me so roughly that my legs jerk back and forth from the force of his thrusts. My own cum is running down my legs. My teeth rip apart my bottom lip. I hear his warning to not come, that he can feel me tightening around his cock, but I don’t care.

I can’t control it. This is so fucking hot. I’m his bitch. The only man I trust like this, and now I’m his fucking plaything.

My head throws back. I scream as he pulls my hair.

That’s right. I’m clamping down on his cock, refusing to let it go as I ride out a long, hard orgasm that even blows my fucking mind.

“Ian!” I whine, his thrusts now completely overtaking me. I’m rocking on my legs. I’m watching the carpet and the ottoman rush back and forth as my head bobs from our movements.

I’m coming.

“Oh, shit.” Ian’s fingers are digging so hard into me that there’s no possible escape. Not from him. Not from my…


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