Page 124 of Over the Line
As he walked back, he sheathed his pulsing, hard cock. The motion made his biceps ripple, flexing the wings on the eagle on his arm.
“Have I told you how sexy I find your tattoo?”
“We should get you a matching one.”
“Really, Sir? I’d like that.”
“Would you? It’s my brand.”
This moment mattered, the importance making the air heavy. “I’d wear it proudly.”
“I honor the fact you said that you didn’t want to be any man’s submissive.”
Except yours. “And you said we get to define our own version of D/s. We decide what it means to us.”
“Oh, fuck, Sydney.” He growled, a feral, hungry sound. “I want you on my lap, facing me,” he told her. “Stay where you are. I don’t want you to move.” Masterfully, he took hold of her and managed it so that he was sitting, and she was in the position he wanted.
“I get to be on top, Sir?”
“But not in charge.”
“Of course not.” Cheekily, she grinned as she raised herself up onto her knees while he guided himself to her entrance.
Then, trying to accommodate his impressive girth, she sank onto him, exhaling by small measures as she did so.
“Ride me, darlin’. Ride me like you mean it.”
Leaning forward, she snaked her arms around his neck.
Her hair spilled erotically over him as she worked her body up and down his shaft, some of the strokes shallow, others longer.
Within moments, her insides constricted.
“Wait,” he commanded.
Unsure that was possible, she sank her teeth into her lower lip, hoping to distract herself so she could obey his command.
He clamped his hands on her waist, helping her to complete several dozen more strokes before he relented. “Now, Sydney.”
Screaming, she climaxed, her internal compressions squeezing him hard, driving his orgasm.
After they’d ridden out their pleasure together, she collapsed against him, staying there as he stroked her back and she caught her breath.
On some level she was aware of time passing, but she never wanted to leave this beautiful little cocoon he’d created where the outside world didn’t exist.
“I don’t want to scare you…”
Despite herself, a small tendril of fear nipped at her happiness. Since his voice was low, but serious, she tipped her head back.
“You don’t have to respond, and I have no expectations of you.”
“But…?” She waited for unwanted words to follow.
“I love you.”
“You…?”
He captured her wrist, as if afraid she might flee, but that was the last thing she wanted to do.