She gives me a slow, seductive grin, her voice a low purr when she whispers, “Yes, sir.”
I reach for her hair and tuck it behind her ear. “Good girl.”
Breena’s swinging her little legs in her highchair when I go back to the kitchen, eating her breakfast.
“You want to watch your show?” I ask her.
She nods eagerly and giggles, lifting her arms up for me to take her out of her highchair. I quickly clean her up, carry her to the couch, and get her situated.
When I come back, she’s waiting for me. Just as I instructed.
Naked. Lying over the bed, belly down, her beautiful, heart-shaped ass on display. Her eyes are closed, and she looks at rest, save the white-knuckled grip she has on the duvet.
We don’t have time for me to do all the things I long to. But we have time enough.
I walk to her and anchor my hands on her hips. She smiles.
“Fucking beautiful,” I say approvingly. I bend and kiss the little dimple on her lower back.
“Well I wouldn’t say—”
Smack.
I slam my palm hard against her arse. She arches up and hisses out a breath. “What’s that?”
She bites her lip. “I said ‘thank you, sir.’”
She’s learned quickly.
I give her another hard smack, then another. “So beautiful. Today, when you’re going about your business, I want to know you’re covered in my marks. That you remember this. Can you do that for me?”
“Feckin’ hell, you’re a dirty son of a bitch,” she says with an approving grin. “Yes, yes I can.”
I unzip my trousers and remove my swollen cock. I slide a condom on and glide myself between her thighs. “That’s what I thought. I love that. Such a good girl.”
She spreads her legs and stays just like I wanted her, bent over the bed. I spread her cheeks and glide my fingers along her slit.
“I want to fill every inch of you,” I say, my voice low and affected with this beautiful woman at my mercy. I press my thumbs to the tight ring of muscle. “This, too. Have you ever been fucked here, lass?”
She shakes her head from side to side. “I’m no virgin, sir, but until you, one might say I’ve only dabbled in… vanilla.”
I glide my cock between her slick folds and work a gentle, purposeful rhythm, until she’s moving along with me, her hips rocking, keening with pleasure.
“I wish I had all day with you,” I whisper, as I thrust in her.
“We can arrange that,” she says on a moan.
We can’t. We fucking can’t, and I wish I could tell her why. But we can enjoy right here, right now.
I bend my body to hers, my cock filling her. I glide in and out, reaching for her breasts and cupping them in my palms. Fucking perfection. She rocks with me, gripping the bed, her pants and mine mingling in the quiet of the room.
“What happens if you come without permission?” I remind her.
She shivers, her voice affected when she says in a strangled whisper, “You punish me, sir.”
“That’s right. Do you want the cane again?”
She pauses before answering, and I hold back a grin. It’s the challenge any girl who’s into kink faces. The cane hurts like fucking hell, and her first instinct is to say no, she doesn’t want to be punished. But she remembers how her caning brought her to new heights, still remembers what it felt like to be under my control.
She shakes her head, not answering. I rock my hips and slam into her, then draw my length out until only the tip remains. “Then what do you do?”
“Ask for permission,” she says. Her thick, wavy hair’s a tangled mass on the bed, and the room is thick with the scent of sex and power. Her own provocative, gently feminine scent fills my senses. I lose myself in her, my head falling back as my groans meet hers.
“May I, sir? I don’t know if I can hold back,” she says, as I continue thrusting in and out, pinching her nipples until she bucks and keens with pleasure.
“Come, lass,” I whisper. “Go ahead, now.”
My own release chases on the heels of hers, and we groan together in mutual pleasure. I lash into her, completing with vicious, hard thrusts. She’s stifling her screams so she isn’t overheard, but her cheeks are flushed, and she’s panting. It’s a fucking gorgeous sight.
“Good girl,” I say with a nod. “That’s exactly what I want to fucking see.”
She’s panting, come down from her climax, when she grins at me. Her eyes are still closed. “I didn’t know the professor had such a mouth.”
I slap her arse playfully and draw myself out. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”
“I suppose my cousins had something to do with that,” she says, but her laughter quickly fades. It’s best we don’t talk about the complications we face. I look at the time, frowning when I realize I’m running late.