Michaels, Skye - Mikaela's Debut [The Black Dahlia Hotel 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) by Skye Michaels

to her pussy. He fingered her clit. She groaned, and he plunged two fingers into her center. “You’re ready for me, sub.” He boosted her up until her legs were wrapped around his waist. He adjusted himself and entered her in one swift, sure plunge while his big hands cupped her hot butt.
    “Oh, Master. This is what I need. Fuck me. Fuck me hard.” He didn’t do the usual of starting out slow and easy and making her wait. He plunged in hard and fast, and the velvet walls of her vagina clutched his iron cock. She tightened her legs around his waist since she didn’t have the use of her hands to hold on. Her body arched against him. She took him deep and tried to hold him as though she would never let him go. He was hard as steel and pulsing with life. Who knew? This might be the last chance she had to make love with Dillon—her friend, her love, her Master.
     
    * * * *
     
    Dillon groaned as she rolled her hips to take him deeper. A shaft of intense pleasure speared through his body, but he fought it off. He was going to take her hard but not fast. This had to last. For some reason, he knew this was important—not just a trip to the dungeon for a good, hard fuck. Her moans were sweet music in his ears. His hips pumped with wild abandon as the urgent need rose up in him. At last white hot pleasure rushed through his veins as with a final powerful thrust his semen pulsed in her. Her dam burst and he felt her orgasm rip through her body. Her head dropped back, and he reached forward and nipped her neck, marking her as his. The relentless throbbing continued as he powered back up and pushed them both to a second climax. It was a perfect moment as his hot gaze caught her eyes. The maelstrom of hot emotions whirled through his mind as his body calmed and a haze of satisfaction settled over him.
    “Will you trust me, Mikki? I can’t promise to stop bad things from happening, but I can promise to stick by you when they do. I love you, and you are everything to me.”
    “You’re everything to me, too, Dilly. I trust you, but you have to trust me to know what the right thing to do is as well.”
    “What does that mean, Mikki?” He was puzzled. That comment just seemed out of context. “We have to stand together on this. We can’t let anyone—blackmailers or family—call our shots for us.”
    “No, you’re right. We each have to call our own shots.”
    He unfastened the cuffs above her head and carried her, still connected by the most intimate embrace, to the bed. He laid them down on the center of the comforter. He didn’t want to lose the bond a second before he had to. He didn’t know where this emotional vulnerability was coming from, but he knew he needed this connection with Mikaela.
    After they had rested for a while, Dillon got up and opened the bottle of champagne. He poured the golden bubbles into two crystal flutes and brought them to the bed. Then he went back for the tray and put it on the bed as well. He handed her a flute and they clinked glasses. “To us, and to the perfect scene and to the perfect way to end it—with a champagne picnic in bed.”

Chapter Five
     
    Offices of Court Industries, New York City, Monday morning, December 28, 2015
     
    Morgan watched his beautiful, black-haired, blue-eyed, pregnant wife, Harper, walk into his office and casually pour two cups of coffee from the carafe on his credenza. He knew she was watching him sift through the mail, reports, and miscellaneous items that had piled up on his desk during the Christmas holiday from the corner of her eye. He let her get one of the cups of coffee almost to her mouth before he said, “I hope you aren’t planning to drink that. You know caffeine is not good for the baby.” He lifted one eyebrow, an expression guaranteed to get her goat and take her mind off her coffee craving.
    “Ugh. You are so mean. I don’t know why I agreed to put myself through this torture. Morning sickness, big belly, no coffee. It’s not