Domination by Lyra Byrnes Page A

letting him ram his finger up into
her again and again. “Ready for a trip to Romania?”
    A trip to…? Oh, the safeword. Hell, no. A million times no.
    “I’m good. Don’t stop.”
    “Then let’s get this off.” He tore the shirt over her head.
Josie looked around frantically. No windows overlooked the courtyard. A door
had been closed behind the gate. No one could see. She relaxed.
    And bit his arm.
    “Ow! That’s it. You’re in for it,” he growled.
    Josie tried to keep the smile off her face as he turned her
by the shoulders. “Move and I’ll whip you ’til you cry.”
    “Try it.”
    He stalked to the table and swiped something from it then
tore at it with his teeth. He rolled the condom on, locking her eyes helplessly
on to his.
    She gulped. “The extra-large kind?”
    “I like a tight fit.” He smiled. “Where were we?”
    “I’m your slut.”
    “Not yet but you’re going to be. Lie down.”
    Do it? Refuse? She was new at this game. All she knew was
she wanted that cock inside her. The night air tickled her nipples and a breeze
wafted up her skirt, chilling her wet thighs. How long could she hold out
before he’d take her? Or she’d jump his bones herself.
    She made a decision.
    “Fuck. You.”
    He moved toward her slowly, stalking her like prey. “Wrong
answer, sunshine. Now I won’t even let you suck me.”
    Bram had barely begun to reach for her when Josie
orchestrated what she thought was a pretty convincing fake fall back onto the
concrete. She lifted her fists to his chest and began to pummel.
    “Fucking bastard!” she cried, ready to explode just from the
weight of him on top of her.
    “Squirm if you like. It only makes me want you more. You
want my cock inside you, slut.”
    “Yes,” she breathed. “I want it.”
    He fitted himself deeply with one move, spearing her to the
hilt. He began to pound into her hard and fast, his hips pumping like a piston.
“Say it.” His breath was leather and tobacco and mint, ragged in her ear.
    “Fuck me, Bram. Fuck me hard.”
    His cock was untiring, a sledgehammer thundering away at her
pussy. The concrete was rough beneath her back, cooler even than the night air,
smelling of chlorine and wet stone. She felt her pulse racing and the slow
building roll begin inside her. Unable to stop herself, she let out a moan.
    It was almost too late before she remembered. “Can I… Can I
come?” she panted.
    “Yes. Oh god. Come, baby.” He reared up and their hips
smashed together. His cock pulsed, drew back and shot, letting free a rolling
vibration that hit her so deep she burst into a million pieces, shouting his
name.
    She lay there for a long while trying to slow her breathing,
half-naked, her juices drying on her thighs, her hair a mess. When she opened
her eyes Bram was pouring champagne into a glass. She hadn’t even noticed the
bottle, so fixated had she been on the condom swallowing his cock.
    “I should shower,” she ventured.
    “Join me first.”
    Josie giggled. “A toast?”
    “Come here.”
    She rose and moved toward the table as if hypnotized. Bram
held out a glass. When had he put his leather pants back on?
    “Are you all right with this? It’s not for everybody.”
    She sipped gratefully. “I liked it.” More than liked. She
loved every sinful second of it.
    “A couple things to remember. You can stop at any time.”
    “I know.”
    “And you can’t be jealous.”
    She put her glass down. “What?”
    “You just can’t. That rot with the notebook bird today. It’s
not my reputation I’m protecting. It’s yours. Mine is beyond redemption.”
    “You’re right. I don’t want my name sullied, whether it’s
the rest of the band that knows about us or the public. I’ll be careful. And
how many?”
    He lit a cigarette. “How many what?”
    “How many girls are we talking? That I shouldn’t be jealous
of.”
    Bram shook his head. “It’s not the number that matters. It’s…”
    Ice water filled her belly. Bram