‘And what’s that then, Mr. Rose?’ I ask sarcastically.
‘A dominant man with a filthy fucking mouth who will wet your little panties for you, crucify you with his huge cock, and fucking force you to come again and again, until you can barely walk.’ A slow smile lights up his face. ‘Guess what, babe? Tonight’s your lucky night.’
I didn’t want to admit it but I couldn’t stop fantasizing about his dick. And even the thought of being dominated by him and being made to submit to him makes my pulses race. It isn’t natural to me, but he is right, I want him to completely possess me. To get on top of me and do whatever he desires. I want to be utterly, utterly dominated by him.
I lick my lower lips and with a snarl he throws me on the sofa. Tears my top and bra off me and looks with satisfaction at my breasts. He stands and begins to take his belt off.
‘Take your skirt off,’ he barks.
I obey instantly.
I hear a sharp intake of breath from him when he sees that I am naked underneath. He drops his trousers and his boxers, never taking his eyes off my displayed body. And I am staring wide-eyed at a very large and angry-looking dick. He sheathes himself in rubber, then reaches out and tugs at my nipples. Small sharp tugs that make my back arch.
He tugs much harder. ‘Were you?’
‘Was I what?’ I grunt.
He grabs my knees and spreads my legs open. ‘Were you always the man?’ he growls, and pushes his thick meat into me with punishing force.
My head rears back against the cushion. ‘Yes, fuck you. I was the man.’
’That’s all over with,’ he snarls and pulling out of me, slams back in. ‘You take what I give you.’
I clench my teeth. My thighs are shivering with need.
He grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head farther back so my body is curved like a bow. ‘You do not have any say in or authority over what happens when we are fucking, do you understand?’
‘Yes.’
‘Now beg me.’
‘Please fuck me.’
‘That’s not begging. That’s telling.’
‘Please, please, Jaron, fuck me.’
‘That’s just asking politely. Beg, Billie. Beg.’
Fuck him. ‘Jaron, if you don’t fucking fuck me now I am going to go crazy and hurt someone, probably you.’
He laughs, a deep growling sound, and fucks me with such brutal hunger that the sofa rocks like crazy and I feel myself being jerked about like a rag doll. The sensation is one of total loss of control. Total submission. Total possession. There is no equality. Not even the pretence of such a thing. No woman wearing a strap-on can fuck this hard. He is the man and I am the woman. It even works if he is the bastard using my body for his pleasure. I clench my muscles tight around him and hang on for a mega release. When it comes it is bigger than mega: it fucking explodes inside me. Shuddering into my muscles and shooting into my veins like a shaken champagne bottle.
‘Scream for me, bitch,’ he orders.
And I do. I howl my lungs out. And as I do I feel him reach his climax. He strains against me and pushes hard into me. For a while we are both silent and still. I hear the sound of the cat next door mewing on the balcony.
He pulls out of me, takes off the rubber, and turns back toward me. He drops to his knees in front of me and spreads my legs open. He strokes his hand upwards and opens my pussy wide and pulls back to look at it. I feel a bit embarrassed because it is still fluttering and clenching and dripping with the aftershocks of my tsunami of an orgasm.
‘I’ve missed this little cunt,’ he says.
I stare at him.
‘So plump and juicy.’
He plunges his tongue into it and the walls of my pussy clench involuntarily. My hands scrape through his silky hair as I pull him in and grind myself against his mouth. My hips begin to make frenzied jerking movements. I know what my body wants. That thing that only he seems to know how to do—when he traps my clit in the hot wet cave of his mouth and does not stop sucking until I find my release.
I find it in minutes.
Afterwards he sits on the couch and pulls me onto him so I am half lying on top of him.
‘Want to go out on a date with me?’ he asks softly.
‘And be provincial like everyone else?’
He shrugs. ‘What’s the alternative?’
I think about it. Ever since he walked into my life nothing has been the same. I am doing all the things I thought I would despise and lovin’ it.
‘What about Ebony?’
‘What about her?’
I pause. ‘So you two have, like, an open relationship?’
‘Something like that.’
‘And she’s not jealous?’
He bends his head forward to look at me. ‘She’s not your responsibility, Billie. She’s mine.’