Becoming Theirs (Dominion Trust Book 1) by Trent Evans Page A

toward him, and for the millionth time she cursed the arm binder for preventing her from embracing him. The damned thing ensured that everywhere Erica went, she led with her breasts. She felt her nipples stiffen at the thought, and Blaine chuckled somewhere in front of her.
    “Eager?”
    “No, Sir,” she lied. She couldn’t tell if the cool wetness between her thighs was her own juices or Sir’s seed. He rarely gave her leave to allow her to clean his semen from her sex, and this time was no different.
    He clasped her waist tightly, and she stiffened. “Lift your leg up now. There you go.”
    Oh, please let it be this.
    Something hot and hard touched her inner thighs, and she barely suppressed an exultant yell. She loved being on top of her Sir. It was so rarely allowed during her visits that she regarded it as a true gift, allowing her to grind her clit against him as they fucked. He allowed her to ride his cock, but still he controlled her, directed her movements. Her physical proximity to him meant nothing — he was still her Sir in every sense.
    The broad head of his cock slipped between swollen, sensitive labia and she slid down, down. Erica panted as he spread her wide once more, her pussy unexpectedly sore from the earlier encounter. He must have been even harder on her than she’d thought.
    Her pussy spasmed at the thought, making her wince.
    Hands squeezed her waist. “Stay very still Erica. Very still. I want to look at you.”
    “Yes, Sir,” she whispered, dropping her head even though she was blindfolded. She knew he was watching the rise and fall of her proffered breasts, even as the hot blush spread from her cheeks down her neck. Such was the one drawback of the position — total exposure to him. From the flush of her cheeks to her bouncing breasts (as she had no doubt they would be once he worked her up to speed) down to the bare pussy stretching around his thick, throbbing cock. All of it for him, his to do with as he pleased.
    “Very slowly now, work me with that cunt.” He slapped her breast, his finger catching a hard nipple, making her yelp at the sting. “Slower, more. There you go.”
    Erica knew how he liked it, and her sinuous hips swirled as she thrust up and down on the big penis, her pace entirely dictated by those hard, cruel hands. Her pussy made a wet noise upon him and she felt her cheeks warm anew.
    Fingers played below, finding her aching clit even as, at the urging of those implacable hands, she thrust down upon him faster. “Sir, please.”
    “Please, what?” His voice had lowered, the tension just under the surface. For once, she was affecting him, getting to him. The flash of triumph was very short-lived however, as fingertips claimed her hard nipples, pinching down in twin points of bright pain. “Don’t even think about it.”
    “Please!”
    She groaned, shuddering as his fingers twisted her nipples, the pain arrowing straight to her womb, transformed into burning lust. She could feel the copious wetness coating him, spread over her inner thighs, as she obediently worked his shaft repeatedly. God, if he’d just let her. Just once!
    “This isn’t about you right now, girl.” She cried out as he slapped first one breast, then the other, causing the globes to collide with one another. “Your job is to be quiet, and fuck me with that wet cunt. If you come, it’s incidental. Don’t forget it.”
    “Yes… Sir,” she whispered, wanting to hide her face, the shame was so exquisite.
    “Faster now. Come on, girl!”
    Her hips slammed down upon him, his cock going so deep it took her breath away, the big head rubbing against the mouth of her womb in that odd mixture of pain/pleasure she experienced with cervical stimulation. The blindfold didn’t help her block out the vision of her breasts wobbling up and down under his avid gaze, the tips bright red from the cruel ministrations of his fingertips.
    She felt a smaller, softer hand caress her ass. “How’s she