“None when it comes to this,” she offered, wiggling a little.
“None?”
“I told you. Peter didn’t think it was sanitary.” Her lips curved as she said the words. Before when she’d talked about her ex, there had been a layer of sadness, of embarrassment. There was nothing but a little naughtiness now. Her tears, those sweet tears, had dried and she was ready for play.
He tightened his hand in her hair, pulling her gently back so she was staring up at him. “What do you think? Did you like it when I sucked your cunt? Did you like it when I fucked you with my tongue and ate that pussy until I had my fill?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He tightened his hold until she hissed slightly. “What do you call me?”
“Master.”
He would only be her Master for a brief period of time, but she would use his proper title until he had to let go. He would get everything that was due to him while she was his. She was wiggling again. Despite the emotion of the morning, he found himself smiling. “Is there a problem, love? You seem to be a bit uncomfortable.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Tell me what’s paining you. Tell your Master what part of you aches.” He knew, but he wanted to hear it from her lips. Spanking her felt good and right, and he wouldn’t do it unless it was for her pleasure and his, or she spouted shite like she had earlier. He wouldn’t allow her to talk poorly of herself. Not while he was her Master.
She frowned, her mouth going into the sweetest pout. “My bum hurts, Master. It still burns a bit.”
He stroked his cock, wanting to draw this out. “You should remember that feeling, love, because every time I hear you speak like that about yourself, I’ll make sure to set your arse on fire. Am I understood? You want my training, you’ll play by my rules.”
“Yes, Master.” She was watching his cock, her eyes on the head as he stroked himself. So responsive. She was completely untutored, her sensuality only just emerging. It was a gift he didn’t deserve, but fate had shoved her into his hands.
“Is a sore bum your only problem, love? Do you have a wet pussy as well?”
She nodded. “Yes, Master.”
God, he loved hearing those words out of her mouth. “You’ll get no relief until you give me what I want. Lick the head.”
Penelope leaned forward, her mouth coming open with a sweet obedience that had his cock swelling further. Her tongue came out, swiping across the head of his dick, licking up the pre-come that had beaded there. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t pull away, simply lapped at the slit on his dick, tasting him with honest, open curiosity.
He held his ground, though it was hard to stay on his feet. The pleasure was so intense as she ran that sweet tongue all over the head of his cock.
“I like how you taste, Master.”
Fuck. “Suck the head. Take me deep.”
She leaned forward and worked her mouth around his cock. It was awkward but endearing how hard she worked.
“That’s right, love. Do you know how good your mouth feels? Run your tongue all over me.” He set his hand in her hair again, threading it tight this time. She was a natural, not because she was perfect, but because she wanted it, wanted him. That was all he needed.
Over and over she worked his dick, taking more each time, with the same diligence she probably used when she was translating a document.
“Take more.” He pulled gently on her hair and reveled in the way she shivered. He could smell her arousal.
His cock was past hard. He’d moved into completely new territory. All the blood in his body was rushing to his dick, and it made him a little light-headed. He shoved his hips toward her mouth, gaining another inch before allowing her to drag back almost all the way out of her mouth. She tickled his slit and then began her excruciatingly slow pass over his flesh. Her eyes were closed, but there was peace on her face, the same peace he’d seen in natural subs serving their Masters.
She would need this. Even after he was gone, she would need to submit to a man who had her best interests at heart. Not everywhere. She would need to be a full partner in their regular life, but in the bedroom, she needed this.
He wouldn’t be the man to give it to her.
Ruthlessly, he shoved the thought away. He would deal with that when he had to. For now, he was going to take everything she had to give him. He would be selfish and soak up her sweetness.
“More.” He wanted the back of her throat. He wanted every inch of his cock inside her.
She licked and sucked and worked him until she’d gotten to his base.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head. “You have to stop.”
With regret, he pulled out of her mouth because he didn’t want to come yet. He wanted inside her. He wanted to be on top of her.
“Master, I don’t mind. I want to swallow you.” Her eyes were wide as though she was worried she’d made a mistake.
“And I want to fuck you. Who’s in charge? Get on the bed and spread your legs for me. You’ll get a belly full of my come, but not today. Right now, you’ll get on that bed and wait for me. You’ll take me when I want, how I want. This is how the relationship is going to go. You will obey me or there will be punishment.” He had to give her one more way out. “Think it through, Penelope. I’ll be hard on you. While you’re with me, you’re mine and I’ll want you three times a day. I won’t care that you’re sore or sleeping. I’ll wake you up and get you ready for me. I’ll take you when the mood strikes me and when I feel like it, where I feel like it. If I want to shove your skirt up in a coat closet, I’ll do it and you’ll present to me and make it easy. So if you don’t want that, walk out now. I’ll find a way around this.”
She looked up at him and, for a moment, he was worried she would do just that. She would stand up and get dressed and walk out of his life forever and he wasn’t ready. God, he might never be ready for that. He wanted this time with her.
Rising from her knees, she went up on her toes, bringing her lips to his chin. She kissed him there, an oddly sweet affection. “Yes, Master.”
She turned, showing off that outrageously hot arse of hers, climbed on the bed, and then slowly spread her legs.
Time seemed to stop, just for a moment, as he looked at her. Presentation. The sweet offering of a submissive to her Master. Charlotte Taggart had been talking about more than castrating him. She’d told Penelope exactly how to get to him. He was being manipulated by a translator who had never been in the field, never even had a real lover in his mind. Penelope was up on her elbows, her legs spread wide. It should have been a tawdry display, but not for her. No. She didn’t look like a whore. She looked like a temptress offering him so bloody much more than sex. It was innocent and sweet and just the slightest bit false because she knew exactly what she was doing to him.
“Master?” Her voice shook just slightly as though worried her game was up.
“Who does it belong to?” It didn’t matter. He knew he should walk away and it didn’t matter because Ian was right. That was his pussy and he couldn’t walk away from it, from her. He might find the strength later, but he couldn’t now. He couldn’t devastate her a second time and he damn straight couldn’t disappoint himself. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
“You.” She met his eyes. “It’s yours for as long as I am.”
He fell on her, using none of his usual grace. He wasn’t an animal in bed. He was always controlled and slightly cool, but not this time. This time his need to brand her beat through his veins, forcing him to spread her legs farther and make a place for himself at her core. With virtually no finesse, he slammed inside her, his cock unable to wait a second more.