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Tonight, focused on the lack of control I have over our survival, I’m craving control of another type.

I want to have her begging. I want to make her come until she’s hoarse from screaming, boneless, and high on endorphins.

I give her a series of short, rapid commands. She responds well to me instructing her, and when I’m ready to master her body, I like to get her ready. Mentally and physically.

I can hear the soft rustle of her clothing and wish we had more light in here. But there’s a certain mystique to making love without seeing one another, as if the other senses are magnified.

The sweet, musky scent of her arousal makes my dick hard, and I growl as I make my way toward her.

“Hands on your breasts,” I tell her. “Work your nipples.”

“Cy—”

I’m close enough to fist her hair and give her a hard tug. “Work. Those. Nipples.”

Her breathing is ragged when I drag my hand down her body to make sure she’s obeying my instruction.

“Good girl.” With my mouth at her ear, I finger her pussy. “Good and wet for me already. This cunt’s mine, Harper. Say it.”

“Yours.” She’s teasing me.

I pinch her clit between my fingers, and she lets out a little scream. “Say the whole thing”

“This cunt’s yours. Mmm.” She’s rolling her hips and working her nipples, and her sweet, seductive scent permeates my senses. I close my eyes and work her clit harder, faster until she’s writhing and panting.

I freeze.

“Cy,” she whispers, pleading. I’ll have her begging harder than that.

“Lie down on your back,” I whisper in her ear. “Spread your legs and work your nipples. You come hard, babe. Tonight, you don’t come until I tell you.”

She whines a little, and I punish her with a swift but moderate smack to her pussy. I want to shock her, not hurt her. Heighten her senses. Get her ready to come harder than she ever has before.

She gasps.

“Say yes, sir.”

Slowly, gradually, I’m bringing her to where I want her. Introducing her to what I like.

Absolute fucking control.

“I—you want me—”

Another smack to her pussy and her words come out in a rush. “Yes, sir.”

I can tell by the way her whisper ends on a sigh that she likes that.

“Now do what I said.”

I remove my hand and feel her obey, down on her back with her thighs spread wide for me. I lower my head to her belly and kiss her there, before I lazily drag my tongue along the sweet, tender skin. My cock’s hard as a fucking rock as she moans and trembles beneath me.

Kneeling over her, I cup her ass cheeks and lift her to me. I can almost taste her, almost feel her trembling before she shatters. Swallowing hard, I breathe hot air on her belly and work the sweet skin with my tongue. Circling. Grazing. Suckling. She’s whimpering and doing exactly what I said, rolling her nipples between her fingers, like a good girl who knows what’s coming.

“That’s it, baby,” I whisper, my breath hot on her pussy. “Work those nipples while I work your pussy.” I squeeze her ass cheeks and kiss her mound. I’m dying to bury my tongue between her folds and taste her sweet essence, but I want her craving it before I do. I kiss her inner thighs and groan when I can already taste her, so wet, so ready. I pinch her ass and make her gasp, and when her hips rise, I kiss her pussy again.

“No coming without my permission,” I remind her. “If you do, I’ll make you regret it.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispers. I groan. I fucking love this. Love it.

I slide the very tip of my tongue between her folds, a gentle tease, and she lifts her hips for more, but I don’t give it to her yet. It takes all my self-control to only tease. I blow my hot breath on her clit, then part her folds and drag my tongue slowly but fully along her center. Just once, but she’s already bucking and moaning. I remove my tongue and breathe on her again. I love sensation play. Hell, I love all kinds of play, but we’ve had to get resourceful on this island without my kinky tools. I can do plenty with my hands, my tongue, my cock.

Without warning her, I bite the sweet, supple, slightly damp skin between her thighs, first her left leg, then the right.

“Cy,” she whispers.

I bite her again. “Sir,” I remind her.

“Sir,” she purrs.

I slap her thigh when I realize she’s waiting for me and not working her breasts like I told her.

I punctuate my words with measured smacks of my palm on her bare skin.

“Work. Those. Nipples.”

She gasps and writhes but does as I tell her, fondling her breasts.

“Good girl.”

She’s earned this. It’s time I gave her orgasm number one.


Tags: Jane Henry Savage Island Erotic