“Where do you think you’re going, lady?”
“Uh, I thought we were going home.”
He walked over to her and caught the ring on the front of her play collar—which she’d worn that night during the work—and led her toward the inside door. “Think again.”
She snorted. “Are we really going to do it here? We did that before, remember?”
“And it’s only fitting we christen the new side for good luck.”
“I thought someone said it’s against club rules to have sex in here,” she teased as they returned to the dungeon.
“Lucky for us, I happen to know the owner. Real dumb, not the greatest looking guy, but he’s got a brilliantly smart, gorgeous, smoking hot slave wife who puts up with him for god only knows what damn reason.” He turned and pulled her into his arms.
“Well, he’s obviously not that dumb, or that ugly, if he landed such a catch.”
“I didn’t say ugly.”
“I said not that ugly.” She grinned.
His hands slid down her back until he reached her ass and squeezed it through her shorts. “Get naked, woman. You’ve had clothes on long enough.”
“Ooh, that’s sexy talk.” She pulled her shirt off. Underneath, she wasn’t wearing a bra. She headed for the new side. “How to you want me, Sir?” She wiggled her ass at him.
He grabbed a clean towel from the rack. “I’ll take you any way I can get you, baby,” he said. “But for tonight, before my stamina wears out, let’s keep it simple and use one of the couches.”
He picked one of the new couches and spread the towel out on it while she finished stripping. “Sit,” he said, pointing at it.
“Woof.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said. “You’d look adorable with ears and a butt plug tail.”
She grinned as she sat. “Red.”
“Dammit.” He knelt between her legs and pushed them apart. “Hope you’re not calling red for this.” He hooked his arms under her legs and pulled her forward so she was at the edge of the couch. Then he buried his face in her pussy and started licking and sucking on her clit.
“Mmm…no, Sir, not calling red on that.”
He didn’t think she would.
He teased her a little, taking his time, not quite getting her over the edge, wanting her close but not there.
He was a man with plan.
When he had her begging him for relief, to make her come, he stood. He rolled her over onto her hands and knees, then started spanking her with his bare hand and pinning her down with the other, until her ass was red and she squirmed beneath him.
He reached between her legs. “You can’t lie to me, baby. That made you even hornier, didn’t it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Of course it did. A good spanking always made her horny.
He stood and unzipped his shorts, shoving them and his briefs off. Kneeling between her legs, he slid his cock inside her well-prepared pussy, meeting no resistance whatsoever.
She let out an unrestrained moan of pleasure.
“Yeah, that’s what my girl wants, isn’t it?” He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up against him. “Tell me what you want.”
“Please fuck me, Sir.” From the sound of her voice, he knew she’d hit subspace.
He reached around her, cupping her breasts in his hands, playing with her nipples, making her moan even more loudly.
“Play with yourself for me,” he ordered, squeezing her breasts. “Reach down there and make yourself come like a good girl.”
She did, her hand moving, hips trying to rock between him and where she was pinned against the couch and impaled on his cock.
“That’s it, baby,” he urged, trying to hold back. “Work that clit.”
He kneaded her breasts in his hands even as he nibbled his way up and down her shoulder, to her neck, and back again, lightly nipping the whole way and making her gasp.
Finally, he felt her pitch over the edge. Around his cock the walls of her pussy spasmed, about the same time she let out a loud, long moan.
That was when he grabbed her hips and bent her over the couch again, fucking her hard, fast, trying to catch up and finish with her. Finally, he did, exploding inside her.
Good thing, too, because he was exhausted. He wasn’t a horny teenager anymore, able to get it up in a stiff breeze.
It took them both a few minutes to start moving. “If we don’t get moving,” she mumbled, “we’ll be spending the night on this couch. And I don’t think my back will appreciate that.”
“Or mine.” He sat up, pulling her close and kissing her. “I love you so much, baby. You have no idea.”
She smiled. “I do. Because I love you, too.” She winced. “But I’m getting too old to be fucking on a couch like a teenager.”
He stood, offering her a hand to help her up. As they started gathering their clothes, she said, “We should have put a shower in.”
He stared at the new bathroom. “Dammit. Why didn’t we?”
She poked him in the chest. “Because you and our esteemed landlord didn’t think of it.”
“Ugh.”
“There you two go, mastering wrong,” she teased. She blew a kiss at him over her shoulder as she headed for the doorway.
He smiled. “I can’t be doing too badly if you’ve put up with me all these years,” he called after her.
She didn’t turn. “Take me home, Mister Master. Our bed called. It’s lonely and wants some attention.”
He chuckled as he started following her.
I’m glad I married the right woman.
THE END
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tymber Dalton lives in the Tampa Bay region of Florida with her husband (aka “The World’s Best Husband™”) and too many pets. Active in the BDSM lifestyle, the two-time EPIC winner is also the bestselling author of over eighty books, including The Reluctant Dom, The Denim Dom, Cardinal’s Rule, the Suncoast Society series, the Love Slave for Two series, the Triple Trouble series, the Coffeeshop Coven series, the Good Will Ghost Hunting series, the Drunk Monkeys series, and many more.
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