On His Terms by Sierra Cartwright

times.
    “Ask for your last three.”
    “May I have them on my breasts, Sir?”
    “You may not. Spread your legs.”
    Goose bumps chased up her arms. He couldn’t mean…
    He stooped and moved her feet apart. Now she was frightened.
    “Ask me to whip your cunt. Give me a birthday present to remember.”
    Her tongue felt too big for her mouth. But she also knew that drawing this out wouldn’t help. “Please, Sir, whip my cunt.”
    “My pleasure, girl. And if you draw your thighs together, we’ll start over until we get three good ones in a row. Are you clear?”
    “Very clear, Sir.” In anticipation, she pressed the balls of her feet harder against the wood.
    The first shocked and seared. This was nothing like the ones he’d delivered to her breasts. The second was less painful, and the last was so gentle that her scorched clitoris started to demand attention. Her pussy throbbed.
    He was a master all right, in every way. He’d turned her on with tails of leather.
    “Happy birthday, Master Alexander,” she said. “And thank you for giving me the gift.”
    “The gift was all mine,” he told her. “I’m going to lower you, and when I do, I want you to move slowly.”
    Her body felt leaden, and she shrugged to restore circulation as soon as she was able. All the while, she looked at him. His body was beautifully hewn, and she wanted him. “Sir, this may be untoward, but would you fuck me?”
    “It’s not a good idea to confuse training that way.”
    “But you’re not my trainer,” she pointed out. And she wanted to be taken hard, by a man as uncompromising as he was. He knew her body better than she did. “Sir.”
    He unfastened her wrists. “Chelsea—”
    “You’re the one who made me horny, Sir.”
    “Get on the table.”
    “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. She didn’t smile until she was faced away from him. She perched on the edge of the table and studied him as he undressed.
    Deliciously, he was commando beneath the jeans. His pubic hair was well trimmed, and his cock jutted out. She’d been so caught up in her own sensations that she hadn’t seen how hard his cock was.
    And what a gorgeous cock it was. Big, thick and pulsing. The sight of a man’s penis had never made her salivate before. But then, she’d never wanted sex this badly, either.
    “Lie down,” he instructed while sheathing himself in a condom. “But keep your legs where they are. You’re going to be wrapping them around my waist.”
    There would be no doubt he’d be fucking her, rather than making love. His way of keeping the demarcation line between what they had and a relationship? Regardless, it worked for her. She wanted it raw.
    She lay back and spread her legs in invitation.
    “Is your pussy hot, girl?”
    It is now. His coarse language heightened the energy in her raging hormones .
    He moistened his thumb pad and pressed it against her clit. She arched up, wordlessly begging for more. And he gave it to her, rubbing her gently, then harder, then backing off again. “Yes, please, Sir.”
    Instead of taking her to completion, he guided his cockhead towards her entrance. She wrapped her legs around him, as much for balance as anything, as he forcefully took her.
    “Play with those pouty tits,” he said. “I want to see your expression. Make sure you squeeze your nipples hard or I’ll put a pair of clamps on them and yank on the chain so hard you’ll see stars.”
    He drove into her. There was nothing sweet or reserved about his claiming. She gasped from the depth. “Damn, Sir.”
    “Is this what you wanted, girl?”
    “It is!” It was. He filled her and satisfied the urge crawling through her veins.
    “It’s what I want, too,” he said, his voice husky with pleasure. That he was so vocal about being turned on increased her arousal.
    “Do me, Sir,” she pleaded.
    “My pleasure.”
    He thrust into her repeatedly, making her body jerk from the force. She played with her breasts and pinched her nipples. From