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In His Cuffs(30)

By:Sierra Cartwright


David imprisoned her head and held her so that he was able to control  how deep she took him. That alone showed her his natural dominance. He  would never cede control to her, not that she wanted him to.

That realisation made her pause for a second. She'd said as much to him  earlier, when she'd confessed she didn't always mind him being in  charge. But more and more, she was not only admitting it, she was  accepting it.

Feeling his hand press on the back of her head, she resumed the blow job, shoving aside her thoughts and concentrating on him.

"Nice," he approved.

She continued trying to take him all the way to his root. She choked a  little, and he pulled back while releasing his grip on her hair.

"We can try that again another time," he said as her eyes watered.

"That wasn't what I meant to have happen," she said, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

"I appreciate your trying," he assured her. "As for now, let's get you ready. Show me your ass."

Since she was already kneeling, it didn't take much to get on all fours  and raise her rear end as high as she could. Without being instructed,  she knew to reach back and part her buttocks.                       
       
           



       

"That is a nice view, Maggie."

She felt a slight pressure against her ass hole. She was tender from the  glass plug he'd used earlier, but as he fingered her hole, he used  plenty of lubricant and she began to relax, giving him access.

"What a good princess."

As a result of their previous play, she wasn't as tight as normal. He  went deeper, stretching her as he did. When he slid in a second digit,  she grunted, a very unladylike sound that made him laugh.

"Now a third," he said.

Without his coaching, she swayed backwards, easing his way.

"That should about do it," he said.

He wiped his hands before he said, "Crawl over to the staircase."

The longer she was with him, the less self-conscious she felt. Her  long-term exposure to the BDSM lifestyle had left her without many  body-image issues. If she wanted her ample bottom to get spanked, there  wasn't much point in hiding it. But under his constant attention mixed  with approval, her confidence blossomed. She knew he found her sexy and  she got a thrill from the knowledge she possessed the ability to arouse  him by how she moved her body.

With an exaggerated sway of her hips, she sashayed across the hardwood  floors. She started up the stairs and stopped when he told her to.

She looked back at him. At some point he'd discarded his shirt. He was  glorious in his nakedness. It was a good thing he kept his clothes on  for the most part. Seeing him with an insistent erection scrambled her  brains. Knowing it would soon be inside her stole her breath.

Her mouth dried as he rolled the condom down his length then covered it in plenty of lube.

He didn't walk towards her, he stalked her as if she were prey. His jaw  was set, and his deep blue eyes pulsed with electric energy.

Maggie took a couple of deep, steadying breaths. She expected him to  force his cockhead against her, but he didn't. Instead, he went behind  her and slid his hands between her legs. He teased her pussy,  finger-fucking her while pressing against her clitoris.

He tantalised and thrilled until she cried out for more. "In me," she said between pants. "I want you in me."

Only then did he press himself against her whorl.

"Hold on," he warned her. "If at any time the angle is too much, say so. The stairs could make this tricky."

"I love it." And she did. This gave him a different position, and she  held onto two separate stairs for greater stability which allowed her to  thrust her hips backwards.

He entered her in a series of ever-deepening thrusts, giving her an  opportunity to adjust. Still, the anal penetration hurt a bit. She  preferred the feel of his masculine flesh to that of the impermeable  glass, but he was still bigger in circumference than the plug had been.

"So fucking tight."

She hadn't heard that tone from him before, rough and edgy. And it  emboldened her. She exhaled and pushed back when he surged forwards. "Do  it," she said. "Fuck me, Mr Tomlinson."

He grasped her hips, pulling her against his pelvis as he forced his dick the remainder of the way in.

She cried out.

"Damn," he said. He moved a hand to rub one of her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"It's …  Full. Overwhelming."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good." Now that she'd adjusted, she liked it.

"Thank God," he said. "I'd stop, but hell if I want to."

He pulled out to his cockhead before he eased back in.

After several dozen sensuous strokes, each more overwhelming than the  last, he spoke. "I want to try something different. I'm going to help  you to stand. Are you willing to try?"

She doubted the possibility that they'd be able to pull it off, but she  didn't tell him that. He reached an arm around her and braced her chest.

"Lean back."

The added danger made her pulse race. "Slipping would suck, Sir."

"I've got you, Maggie."

She reached behind her and wrapped an arm around his neck, feeling more  secure. "Christ," she said as the angle changed and he went even deeper.

Behind her, he bent his knees, using her body to jerk himself off. Over  and over, she cried out. The pleasure was unimaginable, but it came from  the sensation of being torn apart for her lover.

"I'm going to come," he said viciously against her ear.

She wasn't sure how long she could stay in position with her back bent at that angle and her ass stuffed full of cock.

He thrust harder, shattering her, making her orgasm-something she hadn't known was possible from anal sex.

With a masculine, guttural groan, he yanked her back a final time,  imprisoning her upper body as he surged forwards and pulsed out his  ejaculation.                       
       
           



       

He kept hold of her for several seconds before slowly releasing her. She  lowered her arm then, having no support, she went limp. More mindful  than she was, he lowered her to the stairs where she placed her hands.

"Damn," he said, withdrawing his spent penis from her. "Better than I  would have imagined." He brushed her hair aside. "I was rougher with you  than I'd planned."

"Lucky for us both, I'm not delicate," she replied, though it took several breaths before her head stopped spinning.

He patted her with the damp washcloth. "Can you make it up the stairs or should I carry you?"

"I can walk. Or crawl." She thought about it then added, "At least I think I can."

Somehow she made it upstairs and into the shower with him.

Afterwards, he dried her off, and she stood still, her lips pressed  together while he dabbed the white cream on her skin. He'd threatened to  withhold all beatings until she was healed if she uttered one word of  protest. His tone had been fierce, so she was sure he meant what he  said.

When he pulled her against him in the bed, she didn't fight. He kissed  the top of her head once again and she fell asleep, only to wake the  next morning to the realisation he'd kept her bad dreams at bay.

He climbed from the bed and pulled on a fresh pair of lightweight pants,  this time in grey. The fabric allowed her to see that he was already  semi-interested. She couldn't wait for him to take her again. Her pussy  and ass throbbed from his use, but that only made her want more. "Is  there coffee in my future?" she asked.

"Even a latte if you want it."

"Wait. Did I die and go to heaven?"

"I'll hope you think so. You're having it in the hot tub. Your muscles will appreciate it after yesterday's acrobatics."

"Limbering me up for today's shenanigans?"

"Ah." He pantomimed twirling a moustache. "You're onto my nefarious plot."

Laughing at him, she pulled a pillow against her chest. It had been a  long time since she'd enjoyed waking up with a man this much.

"You're welcome to stay in bed while I make your drink."

"I'll freshen up then be down."

He nodded. "I don't need to remind you I expect you to be naked, do I?"

"No, Sir." At every juncture, he reinforced their roles. The surprise was, it didn't chafe.

With a quick nod, he left the room.

By the time she entered the kitchen, her latte was in an unbreakable mug  on the counter. He was outside, in the tub. Jets made the water  turbulent, and she accepted his hand as she balanced the cup while  descending the stairs. "This is quite the way to wake up," she said,  looking at the Rockies in the distance.

"It's better when there's someone to share it."

"I would have thought you'd prefer peace and quiet."

"Certain sounds beat the hell out of silence. Your whimpers for one.  Your screams for another. And yes, you do scream so don't bother denying  it."