Page 91 of On His Terms

“Please spank me, Sir, for being so saucy.”

More than willing to oblige, he did so.

She froze, then a moment later, she pushed her bottom back toward him. “Again,” she demanded. “Please, Sir. Again.”

She was impossible to resist. Three more times, he gave her what she begged for before dropping his jeans. Looking at her damn pussy, he vigorously fisted his cock then rolled on a condom before gripping her hips and dragging her backward to meet his thrust, impaling her, making sure she’d never forget him.

She cried out from obvious shock. “Wow, Sir!”

He fucked her hard, holding her securely but penetrating deep, making it impossible for her to breathe.

On and on he went, trying to exorcise her from his mind, trying to satisfy her every womanly demand.

“Oh, Sir, I want to come.”

“You will have to wait.” He thrust into her, grunting, coming hard, and riding her until he drained out every drop of semen.

Then he pulled out and flipped her skirt back into place before helping her to stand.

“That…” As she faced him, she pressed a hand against her mouth.

The way she’d sucked his cock had wrecked her lipstick, and the sight satisfied him.

“Sir?”

“Always more than one way to punish a mouthy sub.” But that wasn’t what it was about. It was about the frustration of losing her.

He removed the condom and extended it toward her. “Be a good sub and dispose of this and the wrapper.”

“My pleasure, Sir.”

Her response made him blink. She bent to scoop the wrapper from the floor, then she took the filled latex from him. Without a single word of protest or wrinkling her nose, she went into the small bathroom.

He had finished securing his pants when she sashayed into the room, smiling happily. With a frown, he tipped his head to the side. “What are you up to?”

“I want to come, Sir. I figure behaving will help me earn it.” She flashed her rear as she grabbed her purse. “Besides, I like it when you lose control and fuck me all wild-like.”

“After you.” Until her, he’d been deliberate in how and where he fucked. No one goaded him. But she was getting to him.

And that meant only one thing.

He absolutely needed to turn her over to someone else.

How the hell would he be all right with a realization he despised?

Chapter Eleven

Tension knotted Chelsea’s stomach, and she picked at her dinner despite the fact the food was fabulous. He’d chosen an upscale seafood restaurant in the foothills with spectacular views of Denver and the plains in the distance. Even though they were together in a wonderful place, her mind drifted away.

When she’d started this journey, the idea of letting someone else tell her what to do and make decisions for her had rankled. The suggestion that she should serve him in any way had annoyed her. But over the last couple of weeks, things had changed.

She recognized the myriad ways he served her, from wonderful dinners—no parsley in sight—to holding her gently, from opening doors to bathing her in the shower. She’d come to understand that submission wasn’t a one-way street. And the more he required from her, the more he also gave. He made her feel cared for and appreciated—something no other man had ever done for her.

And what she shared with Master Alexander was even deeper than that. There was a thrill and sexual fulfillment that she’d never experienced before.

And part of her never wanted it to end.

“Not hungry?” he asked.