Page 49 of Desire
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice dark and satisfied. “You may.”
And with that permission granted, Emma’s world shattered into a million fragments of ecstasy, her body shaking uncontrollably as the waves of pleasure washed over her. In that moment, there was nothing but the raw intensity of her orgasm, and the profound connection to the man who had brought her there.
The dim glow of flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls as Emma lay recovering from her intense orgasm, the scent of heated oil still lingering in the air. Her sweat-slicked body gleamed beneath the warm light, her chest heaving with each labored breath.
“Ready for more, Emma?” Dante murmured, his voice low and seductive as he picked up a flogger from a nearby table. Emma’s heart raced at the sight, anticipation and trepidation mingling within her.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
The first strike of the flogger landed across her back and buttocks, a sharp sting of pain that quickly morphed into pleasure. A gasp escaped her lips, and the only thing that came to mind was the need for more. “Sir, please...more.”
“Such a greedy girl,” Dante observed, a hint of amusement in his voice as he complied. “I’m putting my marks on you.” Each strike brought forth a symphony of pain and pleasure, and as the intensity built, Emma found herself unable to hold back her cries of ecstasy. “It’s a pattern I’ve never used before and I’ll never use again. This is Emma’s pattern, my beautiful Queen Mab.” He expertly wielded the flogger to create an intricate pattern of marks upon her tender flesh.
As if sensing her growing need, Dante reached down to turn the vibrator still nestled within her to its highest setting, sending shockwaves of sensation through her body. The combined stimulation of the flogger and vibrator pushed her to the brink, and Emma screamed his name, lost in the overwhelming torrent of pleasure. “Remember this, Emma,” Dante commanded. “These marks are my claim on you, a sign for all to see that you belong to me.”
Her body shuddering with the aftershocks of her second orgasm, Emma could only nod, her mind awash with the intoxicating realization of her submission to Dante.
“Good girl,” he praised, his hands now gentle as they applied soothing cream to her aching back and buttocks. The contrast between the pain she had just experienced and his tenderness made her quiver. He slowly turned down the vibrator and then eased it out of her tight hole.
As she reveled in the aftershock sensation, Dante donned a condom and climbed onto the wide table with her. He positioned himself above her and then with a slow, deliberate motion, he entered her, filling her completely. Emma’s breath hitched at the feeling, her body still sensitive from their previous activities.
She felt like she was going to shake apart into oblivion. She existed only for pleasure and Dante was giving her everything. Dante began to move within her, each rhythmic thrust stirring a delicious mix of pleasure and the residual ache from the flogger. “You wear my marks so beautifully, Emma,” he mused, his voice filled with raw desire.
Emma could only whimper in response, her thoughts consumed by the sensation of Dante’s body moving in harmony with her own. He held his body off her, but still the burn of the marks on her back melded with the raw passion that consumed her with each deep thrust from Dante. Kneeling between her legs, he gripped her hips, pulling her up on her hands and knees, their bodies still connected in an intimate dance that left her breathless and shaking.
“Please, Dante,” she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. She ached for release, but knew she must wait for his permission.
Dante’s eyes locked onto hers, dark and intense. “You want more?” His tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of possessiveness that made her feel loved.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she nodded, enthralled by the power he held over her. She craved his dominance, his control, and the way it made her feel alive, truly herself.
“Then take it.” He drove into her with a sudden force that stole her breath away. He held her tightly to him, his entire length buried within her, and she clenched around him, fighting to hold back her orgasm.
In that moment, Dante reached for something and then snapped a leather collar around her throat. It was thin and tight, but Emma reveled in the sensation, feeling both owned and protected. His fingers traced the collar, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he spoke. “This is how I claim you, Emma. You’ll wear this collar for all to see, a symbol of your submission to me. Will you accept my collar?”
Tears streamed down Emma’s face as she nodded in agreement. She wanted nothing more than to please him, to show him just how much she loved being under his control. Emma could barely form the words, her need bordering on unbearable. “Yes, please...yes.”
The moment she agreed, Dante unleashed a torrent of fierce thrusts, driving her toward an explosive climax. With each thrust of Dante’s hips, Emma felt the warmth spread between her legs. He moved with a grace that belied his strength, his hands gripping her hips as he took her hard and fast. She arched her back in response, meeting each stroke of his cock with a moan that echoed in the room.
As she neared her peak, Dante slowed his pace, his rhythm almost taunting her with teasing stops and starts. She writhed under him, desperate for release.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the intensity of their encounter. “I need to come.”
“Then beg,” he commanded.
“Please, Dante,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “Let me come.”
With a low growl, Dante drove deep inside her again, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly. She felt the familiar ache building within her, the tension coiling tighter with each passing moment.
“You may come.”
She fell into the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced. Her body shook with the force of it, her cries echoing through the room as she clung to him, her world consumed by the pure bliss of his touch. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her, leaving her shattered and breathless.
“That,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “is what it means to belong to me.” He got off the table and uncuffed her ankles and wrists. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”
Emma’s eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion overpowered her. She managed, “I love you too,” before sinking into a deep, peaceful zone of bliss.