His cock hard and hanging heavy, brushing the soft cotton of the bolster, it was beautiful torture, every second.
It got better when she made her way back up to his neck, working there, her body straddling his, warm, her tits soft against his back, he could feel her wet seeping into his skin.
Suddenly, she was gone, her fingers gripping his hair, and she pulled his head back, swung in front of him, thighs over his biceps, and she shoved his face in her pussy.
Shit, but she rocked it.
“Eat, baby,” she breathed.
Fuck yes.
Her hand still gripping his hair, his body unavailable to him, not able to touch her in any way but with his mouth, he ate Evangeline like hers was the last pussy he’d ever be offered.
And life had saved the best for last.
She smelled good and she was sweet there too, sweet and so goddamned wet, what he felt last night was not a one-off because she liked watching him take his fucking. She was drenched.
And it was awesome.
He took her with his mouth and listened to her noises, driven to make them more urgent, licking, sucking, tongue fucking, biting her clit. Finally, he heard her find it and he felt his cock throb in a way he worried he’d shoot as she rubbed his face in her cunt through her orgasm.
When he felt her quiver through the aftershocks, he turned his head and brushed his mouth to her thigh, hearing her whisper, “You’re good at that.”
He said nothing.
But he was fucking thrilled she thought so.
She stroked his hair and kept talking, her voice still low and breathy from coming. “Now, I’ve got a quandary.”
Branch had a feeling, whatever her quandary, it was him that was going to have to work it out for her one way or another.
This was why his balls got tight.
“You see, baby,” she kept talking, now also stroking his shoulders, “you’ve been very good. And usually, I reward very good. But in being very good, we’ve made a part of you unavailable to me so you can’t take me away with you like you’ll normally do.”
“I hear you,” he murmured, liking lying with his face in her pussy and liking that she was perfectly cool with letting him do that after she’d come when a lot of Dommes finished their business and then got on with shit.
It was who he was. It was how he was. And there was beauty to a scene lingering, the intimacy of such a position, and for him, getting to experience the service of being laid out for her, at her mercy, even just to allow her to show affection.
He also didn’t like it.
And that last was mostly because he liked it too fucking much.
“So, I’m afraid, handsome,” she went on, “that I’m going to have to leave my mark on you in a way you’ll feel it all day.”
Automatically, his hole tightened and he rubbed his dick against the bolster.
Fucking brilliant.
“But don’t worry,” she kept at it, “I’ll take care of you after you take that.”
“You wanna give it,” he turned and touched his mouth to the juncture of her hip and thigh, not a kiss but as close to one as he felt he could give, “I’ll take what you can give.”
“So good,” she whispered, wispy and sweet. “That earns your choice, Branch. Strap or switch.”
Fucking brilliant.
“Switch,” he answered immediately.
“My big boy,” she purred with approval.
With that, gently, she lifted his head, rolled away from him and he felt her exit the bed.
She came back and he saw her, knees to the bed at his side.
She smoothed a hand over his ass. “Ready?”
“Always.”
She kept running her hand along his ass.
He wrapped his fingers around the silk cords in preparation.
Then he demanded, “Test me.”
“Sorry?” she asked.
“Test me.”
“Branch—”
“Every time I move all day, I want the burn of you driving through my balls.”
She emitted a feminine growl he felt shooting right up his ass.
“You say when,” she ordered, her voice having gone throaty.
“I won’t say when. For me, there is no when. You stop when you’re done.”
Suddenly, her shadow blocked out the dawning light in the room, her hair was all over his neck and shoulders, and her lips were at his ear.
“When I’m done striping you,” she said in his ear, “I’m going to jack you and squeeze your balls, milking every bit of cum you have out of you. And tonight, when you come back to me, I’m going to blow your fucking mind.”
If she had better to give him than last night, he didn’t doubt it in the slightest.
He pressed his pulsing cock against the bolster.
“Stripe me,” he bit out.
Another growl from Evangeline that ended with her sinking her teeth in his earlobe, a sharp bite that radiated down his neck, spine, through his ass and right to the tip of his cock.
Then she was gone.
An instant later the switch landed on his ass.
If the woman could give a spanking, and she really could, she rocked a fucking striping.
Fucking, fuck, she thrashed his ass, the backs of his thighs, the pain, so elegant, so exquisite, so perfect, drove up his balls, his hole, through his dick.
He found her rhythm and lifted for her every stroke, meeting it, his cock rubbing against the bolster, and he heard the switch hitting his flesh mingled with her noises, not of effort—hot sweet noises of getting turned way the fuck on, all of it dragging him right along with her.
She took him to where it hurt like fuck and she took him beyond to where it burned like hell and then she took him beyond to where he was going to have to blow.
“Baby,” he groaned, not even in his mind, all about his ass, thighs, cock and sac.
The switch was tossed aside and she was between his legs, stroking his dick and squeezing his balls.
“Fuck yes,” he grunted, his fingers clenching on his bindings, his hips pistoning into her hand. “Fuckin’ fuck, fuck yes, make me blow.”
“God, could you be more beautiful?” she asked, voice filled with wonder.
“Squeeze, Angie.”
If he wasn’t skimming the edge of a colossal orgasm, he would have noted the husky beauty of her “Honey.”
But instead, ass slicing through the hair, cock thrusting into her tight fist, she tightened her hold on his balls, his head shot back, he yanked at the posts of her bed with his grip on his ties and his grunt scored a path from cock to throat as he blew into her sheets.
She milked him, squeezed him, did as she always did, keeping true to her promise, wringing every drop of cum out of him, and his body juddered through a string of shattering aftershocks before he could do nothing but go slack.
She let him go, crawled up him and straddled him.
Dripping pussy to his back, the rest of her surrounding him, she stuffed her face in his neck and whispered, “You’re so damned amazing, it’s like I dreamed you.”
Right.
Branch was done.
Done fighting it.
Just done.
“Untie me.”
Her body stilled, but probably thinking he’d had enough, it was the Domme she was that she moved swiftly, near to frantically, untying his right wrist, right ankle, over to his left ankle and left wrist.
Once fully released, immediately he rolled, avoiding his cum. Hooking her by the waist, he pulled her under him, gave her some of his weight, lifted his head and froze solid.
He had a lot on his mind. Gratitude for another fucking unbelievable orgasm. A driving need to touch her, something she’d never allowed with any freedom but he sensed she wanted.
But mostly, after that, hearing how much she enjoyed it, feeling how much he did, tasting her pussy still on his tongue, hearing her come now three times, knowing she’d given him two orgasms and they’d bee
n the two best of his life (by a long shot), and eating her goddamned, fucking spaghetti, Branch had the driving desire to share with his Mistress that he needed to fuck her.
Not then.
But she had to know that was what her sub wanted, that seed needed to be planted in her head because with all he was getting, he needed to know he’d soon get her pussy.
Get her.
He’d been inside only a handful of women since Tara and none of them had done it for him.
But he knew Evangeline would do it for him.
And he wanted that.
However, in the dawning light, what he saw was Evangeline, hand planted firm in his chest, body stiff and inert, eyes wide and fucking terrified.
He’d freaked her.
She’d had a sub snap on her and he was now her sub and he’d freaked her.
Fuck.
Branch kept one arm wrapped around her but slowly lifted his other hand and for the first time directly touched her hair, tangling his fingers in it tenderly.
Damn, it was soft.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Angie,” he whispered.
“Y-you move fast.”
Fuck.
Shit.
“Never hurt you, honey,” he told her gently.
“Y-y-you, I … I … you moved really fast.”
Fuck, he was a moron.
“I liked that, baby,” he shared.
“I … okay, good,” she pushed out.
“I wanted to touch you.”
She nodded, staring into his face, and he could see her fighting it and losing.
“Hold you,” he explained. “I’ve never really touched you.”
She kept nodding but her hand planted in his chest loosened.
“Oh-okay.”
He should tell her he knew. He should tell her he’d been there but she’d been so messed up, she didn’t notice. He should tell her he’d seen it all, all of it, on tape. He should tell her it was him who dealt with Kevin.
He should tell her.
He didn’t tell her because he didn’t want her to know the monster in her bed.
He touched his forehead to hers, looked into her frightened eyes, felt that look burn in his gut, and he whispered, “Never, not ever, not fuckin’ ever, Angie, would I hurt you.”
She stared into his eyes.
“I’m trained,” he found himself saying.
Christ.
Blurted it right out.
“I know. I know you’re an experienced sub.”
“I am that, absolutely, honey. Had my first Mistress at nineteen, had a fair few in between, and I’m far away from nineteen.”
“Right.”
“I mean, I see your reaction and I can guess where it’s coming from and you need to get I’m trained. That training meaning, feeling you freeze in my arms, look at me like that, I’m not up and out of this house, hunting down the dickhead who made you think I’d ever hurt you. I’m in check. I’m here. With you. That’s what I mean by trained. I did not lie. You got a style. It’s different than any Domme I’ve ever seen. It works on me, fuck, Angie, beauty. But I’ve been switched worse than that, not as good as that, but worse. Whipped worse than what you saw the other night. Nipples practically twisted off. Cock in a vise. Weights hanging from my balls. Had bitches fuck my ass who had no clue what they were doing. When I say there’s nothing I can’t take, there is nothing I can’t take. And because of that, the way you give it, I love taking what you’ve got. But it’s more. I’ve learned control in a variety of ways, Angie, as a sub and a lot more, and you never have to worry about me losing it, no matter what we do.”
“I … you’re right.”
He was relieved when she melted underneath him, her hand sliding up to curl around the side of his neck.
He was not relieved when she spoke again.
“That was actually insulting, me reacting like that. He’s … you … the guy, he’s not you. I’m sorry.”
“Do not ever fuckin’ apologize for having an honest reaction, Evangeline,” he clipped.
She blinked.
“Angie, you fucked me on your couch last night, I shot a load that coulda been collected and used to populate an island the size of Great Britain, and I’m not sorry I got off like that for you, on show for you, it’s who I am, it’s what I like, it’s the way it is. And right now I’m pissed because my ass burns like fuck, I fuckin’ love it, my balls are wrung dry, and I love that too, and I should be enjoying that, holding you in my arms, telling my Domme I want her to find a time she’ll let me fuck her. And I’m not doing that. Instead, you’re annoying the shit out of me apologizing for giving me a piece of you. Showing me who you are. Offering me the opportunity to share with what we got, two days, you can’t have missed I feel totally safe with you so it means everything to me to know you feel the same with me.”
“I feel safe with you, Branch.”
“Don’t say shit you don’t mean to make me stop being pissed, Evangeline.”
“I actually did feel safe with you until you, um … got pissed that I apologized then made an irate speech about wanting me to feel safe with you.”
“Now don’t say shit that’s cute that just serves to piss me off more.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
He glared at her.
She let him.
This went on awhile.
Eventually, she opened her mouth again.
“Just to say, I agree with your assessment of the load you offered last night, Branch, but I don’t think the world’s population of females is ready for a whole country of Branches. Forget about it for Dominatrixes. Thank God you want this all on the hush-hush. If I had to claim you in the hunting ground at the Honey, I’d have to beat them all back with my baton.”
And the woman just got cuter.
He couldn’t hack it.
He let her go, rolled to his back and wished he didn’t because it brought the pain in his ass up acute, that feeling might make him hard again, and if she saw it, she might feel inclined to do something about it.
He did not lie, she’d wrung him dry, and he might get off on her fucking him on her couch while she watched, he would not be down with her witnessing a lame-ass spurt of cum for any of her talented efforts.
She rolled with him, pressing down his side and laying a hand on his chest.
His eyes slid her way and the look on her face …
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
Staring at it he knew without a single doubt that was the last vision his brain would call up before he left this earth.
Playful. Sweet. So damned pretty.
Amazing.
“I didn’t know you had that many words in you,” she teased.
“Shut up, Evangeline.”
“And I promise never to apologize again. For anything,” she kept at him.
“Your ass can get red too,” he warned.
The grin flirting at her mouth became a smile.
Fuck him.
“Last, I’ll take your request to fuck me under advisement.”
“Appreciated,” he grunted.
“And feel free to hold me whenever you want, that being when I haven’t ordered otherwise. I promise not to freak out again either.”
“Evangeline—” he growled.
“Okay, okay,” she lifted her little hand with her red-tipped nails and waved it, still smiling, “I’ll stop busting your balls. Until, of course, I have you tied down again. Then all bets are off.”
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
She lowered her tits to his chest, he felt her face get close to his, her hair brushing his skin, and he’d gone through the most intensive training a man could face, and that not being as a submissive, but he’d pretty much checked all the boxes on that too, and he still didn’t have the control not to look into her eyes.
“I’m really glad you like what we do together, Branch,” she said softly. “Because I really like it too. It’s been a while for me
, and I won’t get into that, some of it you’ve obviously guessed, but I’m super-happy that the man I found to break that seal I wound tight around that part of me was you.”
He needed to kiss her.
Needed his mouth on hers, to know the taste of her there, to connect with her the second most important way a man could connect with a woman physically.
He hadn’t kissed a woman since Tara.
But he needed to fucking kiss Evangeline.
She stayed close and he knew, he knew in her eyes she was waiting for it.
Wanting it.
Maybe even needing it too.
He rounded her waist with an arm and gave her a squeeze, saying gently, “I got shit to do today, Angie. Fucks me but I gotta get this raw ass on the road.”
He had to give it to her, she did her best to hide it.
But he still saw the disappointment.
And it cut like a blade.
“Okay, honey.”
“Okay.”
“You’ll be back tonight?” she asked.
“What time?” he asked back.
“I don’t know,” her lips twitched, “it’s you making dinner.”
Fuck him.
“When will you be home?”
“Six?” she said like he could confirm.
“I get dressed, you get me a key. I’ll have dinner ready when you get home.”
She blazed him with a smile.
Oh yeah.
Fuck him.
“Anything you don’t eat?” he asked, fucking his own damned self because right then, even if he got in a shootout five minutes before—and the shit he was into, that could happen—he’d still make it to her house with groceries in time to feed her.
“Celery. Green peppers. Red peppers. Yellow peppers. Any peppers that don’t pack a punch are useless. Zucchini. We’ll just say squash in all varieties, except cucumbers, if that’s a squash, because I love those. Spinach, if it’s cooked. If it isn’t, I love it. Iceberg lettuce, I’m uncertain why it exists, it tastes of nothing and I avoid it unless it’s slathered in blue cheese dressing and sprinkled with red onion and bacon bits. No lamb, because I always think of those fluffy little darlings following their mummies and I want to create an anti-lamb-eating collective à la PETA and go on a militant rampage—”