*
Leah
He likes pain. Okay. I wish he didn’t, but he does. For now, I’ll work with it.
I have this idea to pull my hips away when he’s close and see how he reacts. Then let him push back in and see if he explodes. I want to be in charge of him. To make him happy. Fix him. Because he’s mine.
So of course I nod, even though I’m sure I’m in over my head.
“Lie down on your back,” he tells me.
I do.
His hands stroke up and down my thighs, hold onto my knees. His fingers play in me until I’m arching up against him, close to coming.
Then, without a word, he presses the head of himself against my entrance. His eyes flicker up to mine, and I nod. With a steady, driving thrust, he enters me.
I groan, because it hurts. He may murmur, “You okay?” but I don’t answer because I can’t tell. Blood roars in my ears like a hurricane. He buries himself deeper, moving inch by hard, wide inch.
I moan. I force my eyes open. His face is slack. Blissful.
I watch him as he starts to thrust—his lip caught in his teeth; his huge chest rising, falling, faster. I groan again, because he feels incredible. He grabs my hands and strokes them as his pace increases. “Oh yes,” I moan. He cups my cheek as long glides turn to harder thrusts. His finger toys with the side of my mask.
He’s getting close. I can tell because his brow draws tight, his mouth bares flat. His mouth parts just a little because he’s breathing hard. Hansel—my Hansel. I’m panting, lifting my hips up to meet him thrust for thrust. I’m full—so very full—so close myself.
I feel him expand inside me, and I almost scream. I thrust against him, seeking sweet release.
Then I remember. What I wanted to do. What I wanted to try. He plunges hard into me, and I twist my body quickly away.
His eyes pop open, wide, livid.
“Does it hurt?” I whisper.
He shuts his eyes. Clenches his jaw. His hand hovers over his cock, which stands straight up, swollen hard and gleaming from our pleasure. “You’re right. It hurts.” His eyes peek open, roving over me. He looks dangerous. Needy.
I watch his huge cock, still tucked up against his belly. It’s not softening.
His face looks pained.
I scramble over to him, stroking one hand gently under his taut sac, making him groan and bite my shoulder.
Then I run both hands down his amazing length, stroking with my fingertips. Hoping that the pain and pleasure swirl together in a way that makes him want to do this with me every day.
In a breath, I’m on my back, and he’s atop me. He shoves himself back in with one hard thrust, and as I scream, he pins my shoulders down. He drops his face into my neck.
His cock shudders, spurting deep inside me, and I pulse and clench around him.
When I open my eyes, he looks tired and drained. I feel so alive.
*
Lucas
I’m satiated. Pleased, in the most literal sense of the word, with my naughty non-submissive.
I can’t deny it, even though I feel off-balance when it’s over, and I think it’s best to send her packing.
“If we do this,” I tell her, lying out beside her on the bed, “I’ll be in charge.”
Her mouth tucks up into a smug grin. Her eyes are bright. Playful. “Unless I want to give you pleasure.”
“Two doms.” I snort. “It would never work.”
“I think we’d work well together.”
“You’re the sub.”
She nods slowly. “But I want to treat you a certain way,” she says.
“I’ll say how I’m treated. And all of this is only in the bedroom. That’s all this would be. You understand?”
She nods.
I lift her up and carry her to my shower room. I’ve never taken another sub here, but right from the offset, this one is breaking all the rules.
I start the tub, and while I wait for it to warm, I lead her over to a leather couch and clean her with a towel.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Thank you.”
I could let her walk to the tub, but because I want to, I carry her. I ease her in and len over the side, so I can bathe her.
I wonder what it is that makes her seem so different.
“I’ll have to have your submission.” I look into her eyes as I drag a bath rag over her breasts. “You will have to trust me. I won’t hurt you.”
I can tell she’s lying about being hurt. Somewhere, sometime, someone hurt her. I’m not sure she wants to submit to me fully—not yet—but I have the sense that even if she did, it would be a struggle for her.
I watch her mouth and eyes, all I can see around the mask, and find myself wishing I lift it off and wash her hair.
As I bathe her arms and shoulders, then move lower down her belly, the bubbles rise to meet me, hiding her from sight. Making me hard again.