Page 62 of Becoming His Pet

“No.” He turned on the faucet.

Nora picked up her plate and brought it to the sink. She’d obviously struck a nerve.

“Let me,” she said, taking his plate from him and hip-bumping him away from the sink. “Just relax.”

He huffed. “You want to play Suzy Homemaker?”

“No. I want to wash the dishes while you sit at the table and stare at my ass through this ridiculously cheap shirt.” She squirted dish soap onto the sponge and let the warm water wash over the plates.

He laughed but moved to take his seat. “I may have bought that one on purpose.”

Of course he did. The material was so thin he could probably see her damn nipples through the front of it.

After she had the plates washed and dried, she leaned with her ass against the counter and stared at him. He’d been ogling her the entire time, and it didn’t bother her in the least.

“You lost friends over there,” she said, taking a slow step toward him. His jaw tensed. His dark eyes avoided hers. “That couldn’t have been easy for you. You’re a protector.”

“Sometimes protection isn’t enough,” he said, reaching for her hips. She put her hands over his.

“Well, if you mean against missiles and bombs and terrorist cells, I think you’re right. Sometimes you can’t protect the people you want to because the evil is just too big. That doesn’t make it your fault.” She framed his face with her hands, feeling the strength in his jaw.

He took on too much responsibility.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed. But even when you knew something to be true, it didn’t mean you really believe it. Greg was a good man. A strong, dependable man who saw himself as her protector. Though she suspected he’d been less willing at the beginning.

He’d said he was going to find her a safe place to go. Get someone to take her. He’d been afraid of letting her down, getting her hurt, not being able to protect her.

“Let’s forget about that for now. And about the Santinelli family. And what’s going to happen in a few days.” She leaned down, pressing her lips to his and stepping closer to him.

He growled beneath her kiss and moved his hands to her ass, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing.

One hand let her go and snatched her hair, fisting at her scalp and pulled her off his lips.

“Does my pet want my cock?” he asked, the darkness in his eyes resembling his arousal. It was contagious.

“I want to ride you, like you rode me,” she admitted.

He laughed. “You won’t be putting a fucking bridle on me, pet. But I’ll let you ride me.” Without letting her go, he worked his jeans open and shoved them down to his ankles. She licked her lips at the sight of his cock jutting upward.

She reached down to touch him, stroke him but he snatched her hand away.

“Hands behind your back,” he ordered and shoved her arm behind her.

“I want to touch you,” she complained and received a smack to her ass for it.

“Then you should have asked.” He smiled. He released her hair and situated her on his lap. She hovered over the head of his dick, letting it press against her entrance as he kissed her. “Take this damn thing off.” He grabbed the hem of her shirt and whipped it over her head, tossing it to the floor.

“May I?” she asked as she started to descend on his cock.

“You better,” he answered, kissing her collarbone as she sank down into his lap, taking his engorged cock into her wet pussy. Fuck, he felt good.

His tongue flicked over her nipple just as he thrust up into her pussy.

“Oh, fuck!” she cried out, putting her hands on his shoulder. “Fuck, yes. Like that.” She began to move, riding his cock hard and fast. So full and stretched, she couldn’t process more than the perfect sensations running through her body.

“These tits, fuck, I love them,” he said, taking one between his teeth.

She could feel her face blushing at the statement.

---