scooped up in his arms. He strides along the hallway, and I’m relieved to glance back and see the strap abandoned on the floor. Moments later I’m dumped on the bed, wincing once more as my abused bottom makes contact with the duvet. Nick just grins at me wickedly.
“Sore?”
I nod, rolling onto my side.
“I see. Shall I fuck you from behind then? Assuming you still want to come, that is?”
“Yes please,” I sign, and move onto all fours. Between the punishment with the strap, his fingers and the humiliation of being made to bend over and spread my legs like that, my body is absolutely humming with arousal. I need to be fucked, good and hard and very, very thoroughly. And since he’s offering…
My pussy dampens yet more as Nick gently parts my buttocks with his palms and positions himself at my entrance. “You’re hot and wet and tight, Freya. I know you’re sore, but I warn you, this won’t be gentle.”
Thank God for that. It’s the kindest thing he’s said to me since we returned from our ride out but I take barely a moment to savor it before I wriggle my hips impatiently. He slams his cock into me, right to the hilt. He stops, holds position for a moment as I adjust to his size and width, then without further ado starts up a relentless rhythm. Each thrust is fast and hard, this position allowing for even deeper penetration. My hands are stretched out on the duvet in front of me, and I’m grasping at the bedding with my fists. I know this is not going to take long, and I’m still a little confused about whether it’s acceptable for me to come or not. Past caring, I start to convulse around him, and he leans in to nibble the back of my neck and resolves my doubts.
“Come for me, Freya. Come now.”
I need no further urging, and within seconds I’m flying. He increases the intensity of his strokes and reaches around to rub my clit, drawing out every last shred of sensation for me. Gone now is the stern, uncompromising tyrant of the hallway and my skilled lover is back, pleasuring me with his hands, his mouth and his cock. And doing it very, very well.
As the last shudders of my release die away he slows his pace slightly. He now seems to be concentrating on the accuracy of his angle to ensure that he rubs against my G-spot with each stroke. The middle finger of his right hand is on my clit, the caress firm but tender and offering no respite as I quiver back to full arousal in moments. He slides his left hand up my side to reach my breast, and there he takes my nipple between his fingers and squeezes it, hard but not painful. Not quite. It’s enough to send me hurtling back into my second climax, though, this one even more explosive than the first. He increases the strength of his thrusts and I’m gripping him hard, all my inner muscles clamping down on his hard, thick cock, buried deep inside me.
It’s enough to tumble him over the edge too, and as my own orgasm recedes his cock twitches sharply within me as he lurches forward, and drives himself hard against my cervix. I hold still and shiver in delight as the familiar warmth of his semen fills my pussy, mixing with my own wetness before we both collapse onto the bed.
For a few moments he’s silent, then, “Jesus, girl, you are one sexy little subbie. We need to work on your orgasm control, though—you’d have lost it back there in the hallway if I hadn’t taken pity on you and stopped early. Next time I tell you not to come, you do it or accept the ten strokes.”
So much for post-coital pillow talk. We didn’t quite leave the Dom in the hallway, it seems. And I feel faintly indignant. I did try. His telepathic antennae on full alert, he chuckles, the sound low and sexy against the back of my neck.
“Okay, I know, I know. It’s hard at first. But you’ll get plenty of practice. Now, sleep.”
He withdraws from my body then he turns back to me and pulls me up against him, my back against his chest and his arms draped over my
“Sore?”
I nod, rolling onto my side.
“I see. Shall I fuck you from behind then? Assuming you still want to come, that is?”
“Yes please,” I sign, and move onto all fours. Between the punishment with the strap, his fingers and the humiliation of being made to bend over and spread my legs like that, my body is absolutely humming with arousal. I need to be fucked, good and hard and very, very thoroughly. And since he’s offering…
My pussy dampens yet more as Nick gently parts my buttocks with his palms and positions himself at my entrance. “You’re hot and wet and tight, Freya. I know you’re sore, but I warn you, this won’t be gentle.”
Thank God for that. It’s the kindest thing he’s said to me since we returned from our ride out but I take barely a moment to savor it before I wriggle my hips impatiently. He slams his cock into me, right to the hilt. He stops, holds position for a moment as I adjust to his size and width, then without further ado starts up a relentless rhythm. Each thrust is fast and hard, this position allowing for even deeper penetration. My hands are stretched out on the duvet in front of me, and I’m grasping at the bedding with my fists. I know this is not going to take long, and I’m still a little confused about whether it’s acceptable for me to come or not. Past caring, I start to convulse around him, and he leans in to nibble the back of my neck and resolves my doubts.
“Come for me, Freya. Come now.”
I need no further urging, and within seconds I’m flying. He increases the intensity of his strokes and reaches around to rub my clit, drawing out every last shred of sensation for me. Gone now is the stern, uncompromising tyrant of the hallway and my skilled lover is back, pleasuring me with his hands, his mouth and his cock. And doing it very, very well.
As the last shudders of my release die away he slows his pace slightly. He now seems to be concentrating on the accuracy of his angle to ensure that he rubs against my G-spot with each stroke. The middle finger of his right hand is on my clit, the caress firm but tender and offering no respite as I quiver back to full arousal in moments. He slides his left hand up my side to reach my breast, and there he takes my nipple between his fingers and squeezes it, hard but not painful. Not quite. It’s enough to send me hurtling back into my second climax, though, this one even more explosive than the first. He increases the strength of his thrusts and I’m gripping him hard, all my inner muscles clamping down on his hard, thick cock, buried deep inside me.
It’s enough to tumble him over the edge too, and as my own orgasm recedes his cock twitches sharply within me as he lurches forward, and drives himself hard against my cervix. I hold still and shiver in delight as the familiar warmth of his semen fills my pussy, mixing with my own wetness before we both collapse onto the bed.
For a few moments he’s silent, then, “Jesus, girl, you are one sexy little subbie. We need to work on your orgasm control, though—you’d have lost it back there in the hallway if I hadn’t taken pity on you and stopped early. Next time I tell you not to come, you do it or accept the ten strokes.”
So much for post-coital pillow talk. We didn’t quite leave the Dom in the hallway, it seems. And I feel faintly indignant. I did try. His telepathic antennae on full alert, he chuckles, the sound low and sexy against the back of my neck.
“Okay, I know, I know. It’s hard at first. But you’ll get plenty of practice. Now, sleep.”
He withdraws from my body then he turns back to me and pulls me up against him, my back against his chest and his arms draped over my
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