“I’m yours,” I said as I saw a look of panic flash in his eyes as I guided his jeans down over his narrow hips. He stepped out of the jeans and I slid my fingers up past the waistband of his boxer briefs, letting my hands wander over the scars on his torso.
The whole time he held my wrists, lightly, letting my fingers and hands wander, but also letting me know that he could stop this at any time if he decided it was necessary, if he decided that he didn’t want me touching him anymore.
It was my job to keep that from happening, so I kept talking to him.
“You own me,” I whispered as I pulled his boxer briefs off. His cock was hard and it sprung from the fabric.
I grabbed it in my hand, running my thumb over the vein on the underside. His cock turned to stone under my touch, and I loved that I could have this kind of effect on him.
“You own me,” I repeated. “I am yours.”
He groaned, and my name escaped from his lips. “Emery. God, Emery, what are you doing to me, baby? What is this?” It was half a strangled cry, half a pray to some God I knew nothing about.
“You own my hands,” I said, and gave his cock one long stroke. “You own my body.” I held my tits up to him, brushing them over his dick. Then I stuck my tongue out and licked him from root to tip, enjoying the velvety hard feel of his dick in my mouth. When I reached the head, I slid my mouth over the sensitive tissue and sucked.
“Fuck,” he ground out.
“You own me,” I murmured, and pressed my cheek to his cock, letting the head run over my skin. A drop of precum leaked from the tip of his penis and hit my face, and I saw his eyes burn with desire.
I knew he loved seeing me like this, down on my knees, submissive to him, marking me with the prelude to his seed.
After a moment, his need to control got to be too much for him to take, and he reached under my arms and pulled me up roughly, his hands against my ass as he pushed me against him.
“And I own your pussy, too,” he growled, his cock, now rock hard, pushing against my naked slit.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Yes, you own my pussy too.”
He picked me up by the ass, and I wrapped my legs around him. He moved us toward the bathtub, and I caught sight of the back of him in the mirror. His tight, perfect ass and the back of his strong thighs, the wide expanse of his back, his muscles flexing with his movements.
I saw my eyes, reckless in their depths, and yet there was a look of serenity on my face. I looked away and buried my face into Liam’s shoulder as he lowered us into the tub.
The water was warm, and he lowered us into it, me still facing him, my legs still wrapped around his waist, his hard cock nudging against my opening, which was now slick and not just from the water.
“Tell me what he did to you,” Liam demanded once we were settled. “I need to know everything.”
“I already told you everything.” He’d interrogated me on the way from the hotel, peppering me with questions until I’d told him everything I could remember.
“Tell me again.”
“He saw me at a wine bar.”
“You were drinking?” Under the water, his hands tightened around my waist.
“I ordered a glass of wine. One glass.”
“You were drinking.”
I thought about protesting again that it was just one glass of wine, but I could tell from his face that it wasn’t going to matter to him if it was one glass or five. “Yes. I was drinking.”
“Go on.”
“He was sitting at the other end of the bar, and he asked me… he asked me if I’d broken up with someone.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said yes.”
“You said yes?”
“You left, Liam. You told me to go, you said that we were through.”
“I never said any of that.”
“You might as well have.”
He began to get up, and I knew what was going to happen next. He was going to take me into the other room, he was going to take his belt or a paddle or a hairbrush or whatever he could find and whip me. And while my body craved it, I craved him, this closeness, more.
“Please,” I said. “Don’t leave… we can…I’ll take my punishment. But I want to talk about this first.”
“Then you will answer every one of my questions.”
I nodded.
He lowered himself back into the tub, the V of his hips slipping back underneath, his strong body making waves in the water. He’d released me from the grip he’d had on my hips and now he reached for a bottle of body wash that was sitting on a metal shelf that was hung on the side of the tub. He picked up a loofah as well.
“You have a loofah?” I asked, biting back a laugh. “A pink one?”