He growls, his lips pulled back from his teeth making him look like a true sadist, but his fingers toy with my clit, making me realize that what he wants to take is exactly what I want to give.
“Okay,” I whisper.
His hand tightens on my throat. “I’m not asking for permission, baby girl. Fuck, so goddamned wet. You like me taking full control.”
I nod, licking at my dry lips.
In the next breath, he shoves my robe off my body, leaving me standing there completely naked. His eyes feel like both fire and ice as they skate down my body. I want to beg him to touch me, to take me, to use me up, but he made it very clear that what I want doesn’t matter any longer, and maybe I’m a masochist for wanting exactly that.
I don’t want to think. I don’t want to anticipate. I know he’s going to give me exactly what I need. I learned the first time together that my pleasure is his pleasure.
His hand cups my pussy, the warmth of his palm making me weak in the knees as he inches his face closer to mine.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, this new man struggling a little with the man he normally is.
I nod again. “Okay.”
His hands work open his zipper, and although I want to reach out and touch him, I keep my hands at my sides. I’m eager for everything he’s going to give me, and he can’t move fast enough in my opinion.
Once his cock is free, his piercings glinting in the overhead light, I can’t help but to lick my lips once again at the bead of cum on the tip. I pray he’ll shove it in my mouth. Sucking him off has become one of my favorite things. It brings out the appreciation in him, and I live for those moments.
He lifts me, pressing my back to the wall so hard a picture hanging there rattles and threatens to fall.
I gasp, looking over to check to see if it’s going to fall, but he impales me with no warning.
“Kit!” I hiss, the fullness of him bordering on pain.
“Is there a problem?” he asks, holding me in place as his hips shift backward.
I shake my head, wishing his hand was still around my throat as growls and grunts of pleasure rush past his lips.
He doesn’t praise me, doesn’t tell me how good I feel, nor does he have to. I can see the pleasure in his eyes as he watches where we’re joined. I’m so fucking wet for him, the sounds of that proof ring out around us, a sloppy feral noise that only heightens my need for him.
I whimper, my body already needing to come, but I don’t know how he’ll respond. I try my best to hide the orgasm growing deep inside of me, but this man knows.
“Are you going to take what I’m offering, or sit there on the edge and torture yourself?”
I moan, his challenge making my pussy clamp down.
“Can I?”
His laugh is sinister, but there’s also a hint of pride in his voice. I feel like I’m giving him exactly what he needs as well.
“Fuck you,” he says, his hips snapping forward faster. “Fuck you for asking for permission to come. Take it, baby girl.”
I explode, see stars, feel like I’m floating. All the things I mostly dream about are happening. My head lolls to the side, my body needing a second to comprehend what’s happening before I can reboot.
“Perfect little bitch,” I hear him say a second before my back meets the cool leather of my sofa, and I grin, wondering for a second if I’m fucked up for enjoying the obscenity and degradation.
He presses his lips to the raging pulse point in my throat as I come down, one more deviation from the maniac he’s portraying.
“My turn,” he growls, flipping me over and yanking my ass in the air. I barely have enough time to get my arms under me before he’s plowing into me from behind. He finds the end of me with every thrust, making inhuman sounds leave my throat.
“My pussy. My baby. Mine, baby girl. All of it mine!” he roars as he comes, a ferocious sound of ownership I would’ve understood even if he hadn’t just verbally claimed every part of me.
His breaths are hot on my neck as he presses himself to my back.
“I can’t hold you up,” I say, my arms shaking from his weight.
“I got you, baby,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist as we lower to the couch.
He keeps most of his weight off of me, but as much of our bodies as possible remain touching.
I smile into the leather, excited that I can hear the Kit I’ve always known back in his tone.