Authors: Deanndra Hall
Tags: #Romance, #drama, #Erotica, #erotic romance, #Mystery
“Yeah, but what?” I laugh.
“A bratty sub! You’d better get in that shower, bratty sub, or I’ll have to spank your ass!” I wiggle out from under him and head for the shower. As I run I hear him say, “And a fine ass it is too.”
I wish I hadn’t heard that. Now I only want him more.
He rolls off me and onto his back in the sunlight. I’m in the shade of a small tree, and he scoots over so he’s in the shade too. His arm stretches out and I pull myself to him, curling against his side, waiting for an arm to wrap around me. It does. I’m naked in his back yard on a quilt and I feel completely safe. When I kiss his chest, he pulls my face up and kisses my mouth. My arm stretches across his chest and around him and, before I know what’s happening, he’s rolled to face me and his cock slides into my slit, still slick and ready from the previous fucking. He rocks against me and I meet his rhythm, letting it soothe both of us.
As we continue to rock against each other, he takes his free hand and strokes my hair, my face, my neck, down my chest, my breasts, down my ribcage and my stomach, and stops to stroke my mons gently. The desire between us is like a vapor permeating everything, soaking into our skin, making its way into our lungs, into our very being. I’m almost lightheaded just from his pressure inside me, and every time he lets go a low, soft moan, every muscle below my waist constricts, tightening around him and making him moan even more. It feels so right, so tender and sweet, and I want to fuck him like this all afternoon and on into the night. “Oh, god, Master, it’s so good.”
“I know. You’re such a joy to make love to, Trish. I don’t want to stop.”
Oh my god, those are almost my own words spoken back to me!
, I think, remembering when I’d said them to him. He leans in and kisses me, and I’m lost in that kiss, melting into him, wanting him, needing him.
“Oh, god, Clint, your cock is so powerful.” The minute the words are out of my mouth, he shoves a palm behind my head and pulls my mouth to his, kissing me hard and long, his tongue exploring everywhere, thrashing against my tongue, drinking me in, and I let him. I let his passion pour into me, down deep and strong, and wish for more, long for more.
When he pulls back, he kisses my forehead, eyes, cheeks, nose, chin, and then plants another one on my lips. This one is soft and gentle, like a whisper, and I hold very still to enjoy it in its simplicity. Breaking the kiss, he says softly, “Hearing you say my name while I pump into you sets me on fire, Vännan. I can’t get enough.” He kisses me again and my arms wind around his neck, where they stay for at least another hour as we press our bodies together and come over and over.
This is what I was looking for. I want to bond with Clint Winstead. But I’m still not sure he wants to bond with me.
Tuesday morning is beautiful. He wanted me in his bed all night, and now I’m sucking cock like a maniac. He’s groaning and thrusting his hips and I’m excited just watching how excited he is. I take it down deep and with the third drop he cries out, “Oh, god, Vännan, your mouth is so damn good. Suck me, baby! Oh, yeah . . . oh my god, harder, babe. Suck it harder, babe, oh god.” I wish I could smile around the big, rigid thing, because I really, really want to.
He takes my head in his hands and starts to pound into my throat, and I take it, my nose and eyes running, letting him use my mouth the same way he uses my pussy and my ass, crazy and frantic and deep. Huge and steely, it gets harder still, and I know he’s getting ready to fill my throat. “Oh, god, Vännan, I’m coming. Suck it down, baby, drink it.” He floods my throat, my mouth, choking me, drowning me, and once I’ve finally managed to swallow it all, I start licking his shaft like a lollipop, circling the head with my tongue, making him moan and shake. He pops up onto his knees, pulls me up against him, and kisses me, working to taste himself in my mouth, and I share freely.
“Good, Master?” I pant when he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine.
“Oh, little sub, yeah. You’re good, very, very good.” He grins at me. “I’ve got a surprise for you later. It will be very
not
vanilla. I’ll expect you to follow protocol to the letter.”
“What, Master? Tell me!” I cry out, tickling his ribs and making him squirm.
“No! It won’t be a surprise if I tell you now. But be assured, it’s pretty spectacular. Let’s eat some breakfast.”
“Can I get out of your bed, Master?” I ask sarcastically.
“No. You’re trapped here,” he laughs and tickles me back. I shriek. “Get your ass into the bathroom and get cleaned up, missy, and do your anal prep while you’re at it. Then get to the kitchen – I’m hungry.” He heads off to his bathroom and I watch his fine, fine ass retreating across the room. He calls back, “Are you staring at my ass?”
“Me, Master? Why would you think that?” I giggle.
“No reason. Except I’d be staring at yours if it was the other way around. So I just assumed . . .”
“Not conceited, are you, Master?” I laugh.
He laughs back. “Nope. Just convinced.”
I wander down the hallway to my bathroom. I hope this surprise is a good one.
Just as I start to step into the shower, my cell rings: Ron. “What the fuck do you want?” I snarl into it when I answer.
“Where the hell are you? I’ve been over here four days in a row and can’t catch you at home.” He sounds like he’s eating something. My food, I’m sure.
“None of your damn business.”
“Some little old ladies’ crocheting circle? Tea with the girls? Shopping for lingerie at the granny panty store?” he laughs.
I’ll show you, motherfucker.
“I’m at a man’s house. Having an adventure.” I wait. He doesn’t disappoint.
“A man? What man?”
I’m working hard to keep from laughing. “A man I just met a while back. I’m staying with him for two weeks.” I think about it for only a nanosecond before I say, “I’m getting ready to take a shower. I just sucked his cock for about, oh, forty-five minutes. I’m surprisingly good at it.”
I hear this choking sound. “You did what? For forty-five minutes?”
“Yeah, you heard me.” Now I’m really having to fight to keep from laughing. “His is big and hard. Makes yours look like a seventh-grader’s.”
“And I guess you’re having sex with him?” he asks, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
“Actually, I am. In the back yard. Oh, yeah, and yesterday he double penetrated me with his dick and a huge dildo. And I liked it. He taught me to do anal prep so I’ll be clean as a whistle when he wants to fuck my ass.” I hear an honest-to-god choking sound now. “And the other day he took me on a hike, and when we got to the edge of the lake, he told me to get undressed and get down on my knees and suck him. Then he fucked me on a giant rock, right there in the open, and three hikers came along and watched him fuck me. It was very exciting.”
Then I hear him snicker. “Oh, is that right? That’s quite a story, Trish. So this guy is some kind of sex god?”
“Yes. And I’m a sex goddess. And you can believe me or you don’t have to.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me at all.
I hear a sound behind me and turn to see Clint standing in the doorway, and he’s grinning from ear to ear. He points to the phone, then to his ring finger, and I nod. Next thing I know, he’s standing behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, and he says, so close to the phone that Ron can hear, “Hey, baby, hurry up and get your shower and I’ll fuck you in the back seat of the car. Whaddya say?”
I whisper back loudly enough for Ron to hear, “Oooooo, sounds delicious! But would you fuck me in the shower first? I’ve never done that. My old man was sooooo boring.” Clint makes a big production out of kissing me with enough “smack” that Ron’s sure to be able to hear.
There’s silence, and then Ron asks, “Trish, who is that?”
“None of your goddamn business, asshole.” Clint kisses the side of my neck and I giggle.
“Who’s on the phone, princess? My cock is lonely for that hot, wet, tight little cunt of yours. Hang up so we can get on with the fuckathon, please?” I turn to look into Clint’s face and he looks like a naughty little boy, a huge grin stretching his lips, so big that his eyes are squeezed shut. It’s all I can do to keep from laughing right out loud. The playful side of him is poking out all over.
“Ron, I’ve got to go. What I’ve got going on here is far more interesting than this dreary conversation. I told you before, you take anything of mine and I’ll hunt your sorry ass down. Now leave me alone.” I hit end before he can say anything else, and Clint roars with laughter.
“Thanks, Master! Thanks for playing along. You have no idea how good that felt,” I grin and kiss him.
“Wow – I’m a sex god. Who knew?” he laughs.
“You know that already. You’re my sex god, Master,” I grin and kiss his cheek.
“And you’re my cock-sucking, all-night-fucking sex goddess, Vännan!” he chuckles. “Was that who I think it was?”
“Yes. And we gave him something to think about for awhile,” I chuckle.
“Is this your way of getting back at him? Will you take him back?” Out of nowhere, Clint sobers. There’s something sad on his face.
I stroke his cheek. “No, Master. I’m done with him. I’m looking for something far more exciting.”
“Then get done with your shower and I’ll bring your search to an end, sub.” He kisses me hard, then turns me toward the shower and slaps the cheek of my ass as he leaves the room.
I do a little heart check. Yeah, it’s official.
I’m in love with Clint Winstead.
I’m sitting in the living room, making notes in my journal, when he walks in, magnificently naked. His huge, purple rod is standing at attention, bobbing with its own pulse, and I want it to have
my
attention. It’s a beautiful thing.
“I’m hard and ready for you, Vännan. Your body is my plaything. Are you ready to please me?” The formality of this scene is more than edgy; this is the moment when he stops being Clint or Sir and becomes my Master. I keep my eyes down and nod breathlessly, so turned on that I’m almost twitching all over. “I want you to remain silent throughout this experience. Not a sound.” There’s a part of me that’s glad I’m ordered into silence because I’m so aroused that if I could speak, I would probably humiliate myself.