The Naughty Stuff(8)

"Clean them good, Kat. Don't make me say it twice,” he said sternly as he stroked his hard-on and she continued to lick his balls.

Her purring was vibrating against them, sending prickles of pleasure up his spine. Just when he thought he was going to be able to hold out, her shimmering sapphire blue eyes met his and it was his undoing. Without warning, he came hard and fast and to his sheer delight, Kat promptly engulfed him and drank his warm milk like a hungry little kitty.





Bottoms Up




From The Art of Control





Devoured


“Isa, enough of this talk. My birthday isn’t quite over and I want to spend the last remaining minutes of it pounding this tight ass of yours,” he exclaims as he grips my ass.

My dearest, filthy, horny husband is insatiable and I won’t deny him the pleasure he seeks and deserves.

“Take me anyway you want me, Master,” I whisper.

“Oh, I intend to. On your stomach,” he says firmly.

I move onto my tummy and he licks down my spine to the crevice of my ass. Squeezing my cheeks, he bites into my hip bone, his erection jutting into my upper thigh.

“I want it, Isa.”

Dylan’s voice is deep and raspy, and there’s no denying my Dom is now present and fully in control. He jerks my wrists behind my back and pins them there while he lubes my puckered entrance with his saliva. With his free hand, he slips a finger inside of me, loosening me up, and then two - in and out, slow and sensual. Dylan removes his fingers and rests his dick on my ass, poking the head in ever so gently. I wince and contract down when he pushes deeper.

“Compose yourself, pussycat, I’m going deep.”

Dylan shifts his body and his thick member stretches me to accommodate all of him. I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, letting my whole body go limp.

“That’s it, let me fuck this tight hole,” Dylan pants.

He pounds deeper and harder, picking up his rhythm. Letting go of my wrists, he moves a hand underneath me and encircles my tender bundle of nerves.

“Don’t move your hands, leave them right where they are and turn around and look at me. I want to see those unforgettable eyes watch me take you.”

I crank my head to the side and watch intently, keeping my eyes not on my own body, but on my Master. He’s completely in the dominant zone as he works himself in and out of me. His expert fingers flick at my clit sending sparks of heat throughout my lower belly. With his other hand, he cups his ballsack, drawing them up. The vision of him is mouth-watering and art inspiring.

He lets go of his balls and with his left hand, he wipes the sweat that has beaded up on his forehead with the front of his hand, revealing the tattoo seared into his flesh. He’s mine. My God, this man really belongs to me. I’m well aware that he doesn’t want me talking during sex, but I can’t resist myself.

“I love you so much, Master.”

Dylan takes his eyes off my ass and stares into my eyes, his intense gaze fierce and unwavering. He clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes and I think for a moment that I’ll pay the price for disobeying his wishes, but instead he leans down onto me and bites my shoulder blade, making me moan out loudly.

“Say it again, pussycat - tell me you love me; tell me I’m the only one,” he whines into my ear.

“I love you, Master. You’re the only one I want. You’re the only one I need. I love you. Take me. Own me. Devour me.”





From The Art of Domination





Be a Good Wife


“What’s this?” I ask snapping the waistband of her panties against her skin.

She looks contrite but she’s not backing down. “What does it look like?”

“Do you think because we’re married now you don’t have to abide by our contract anymore?” I snap at her. She knows I fucking hate her wearing panties to bed and I take it as a personal insult that she wore them.

She lays motionless, not answering my question and scanning my face.

“Answer me,” I demand.

“Honestly, I was angry and I forgot. It wasn’t intentional,” she says sincerely. I can see by the look in her eyes that she really didn’t mean it to be an insult.

“Take them off,” I order and without hesitation she removes them and drops them on the floor. She lifts her cami so I can see her, then rubs her hand over her tummy and over the top of her mound while she watches me. When I look into her eyes she’s licking her lips.

“Do you like what you see?” she asks playfully.

“You know I do.”

“Good. When you apologize, you can have some.”

Oh, hell no. “Let me remind you, as your husband and your Master, I don’t need your permission. I’ll have some with or without an apology, but because I love you and because it was a shitty thing for me to accuse you of, I’ll apologize anyway. So for what it’s worth - I’m sorry for accusing you of hitting on Sawyer. I love you. Now open your legs like a good wife and let me fuck you.”