Page 24 of At Her Will

“Take off my jeans and shirt, Rev.”

Watching her, he unbuckled her belt and slid it free. Every movement slow, reverent, but not too reverent. His gaze dropped to study the skin he was revealing, his fingers trailing along it without taking more liberties than she’d given him. She lifted her hips to help him get the jeans off. As she arched her back further so he could remove her shirt, his breath drew in. He took it carefully over her hair, then set her clothes aside in a folded stack.

“Sit back and look at me, Rev. Everything below the neck. You don’t have permission to look at my face, and though you can take as long as you like, you only get one look, from neck tofeet. When you get to my feet, close your eyes and keep them that way, until I say otherwise.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She tracked his gaze’s passage over the column of her throat, her collar bones and curves of her shoulders, her upper arms, her breasts. She’d worn a black satin bra with a tiny white bow and black pearls between the cups. It had a front fastener, and his eyes rested there an additional second. She could imagine him slipping that clasp, opening up the cups to reveal her aching nipples and full curves to the hunger in his expression. But she stayed still, waiting to see how he followed her direction. The flood of sexual energy felt too good to rush.

He moved to the slope of her abdomen, the flare of her hips, the fit of her matching panties. When his attention passed over her covered mound, heat washed through her there. On to the columns of her thighs, and all the way to her painted toenails. Once he reached the same place, his eyes fell shut. His hand, braced on the ground next to him, had become a fist. Though he had physically maintained the position she’d dictated, his aura, that force field around him, felt as if he’d braced a hand on her opposite side, and he was curved over her like the shelter he’d set up. Only much, much closer.

She breathed slow, pulling that sexual fire from her core to her chest. The power of what was happening took over and drove the next command.

“Breathe deep, Rev. Think about what’s going on in your cock, your thighs.” Her eyes swept over that pleasurable terrain. “Draw that energy up into your chest. Keep drawing it up with every inhale. On the exhale, think about what you’ve seen. Repaint me against the inside of your eyelids. Did you like what you saw?”

“Lord, yes, Mistress. Good God above, yes.”

The emphatic response was underscored by male need. His voice was a rumble of heat. He’d described a storm, its thunder and lightning, as a mesmerizing show. Watching him follow her direction was every bit of one. She watched his shoulders rise, his chest expand, and knew what she wanted next.

“Take off your shirt, Rev. Keep your eyes closed.”

He complied, and she held her breath, then let it spiral back down through her chest, feeling the impact in every erogenous zone. Beautifully sculpted muscle, as she’d expected. Tiny dark whorls of chest hair. His dark skin gleamed from the filtered light coming through the screen. The silver cross was now fully revealed, engraved with a flowing script. She spoke the words aloud.

“We walk by faith, not by sight.”

Since his eyes were closed, a smile touched his mouth, and the coincidence gave her one as well.

“Did Teena Joy give that to you?”

“For my thirteenth birthday.”

Propping herself on an elbow, she reached out. “Lean forward, Rev, and put your cheek on my thigh. Facing my voice.”

She guided him down, her hand moving from forearm to biceps to shoulder, then to his nape, caressing him there, hooking the chain over her fingers and then letting it go again.

He laid his cheek where she directed it, his mouth only a few inches from her damp cunt, just like at the overlook.

“Do you smell me, Rev? Smell my need?”

“Yes, Mistress. I want…” He cut himself off fast, his body jerking with the effort.

“It’s not wrong to ask me for what you want, Rev.” She bit back a tight smile. “Only to demand it.”

“It feels like demand, inside. But I want to ask for permission to use that…forcefulness. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. I like knowing it will be there, for me to call for it when I’m ready. Understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.” His response, touched with that same forcefulness, sent a tingle up her thigh muscles.

“Good. Now sit up again and remove your shoes and the rest of your clothes. Stay on your knees.”

It took some skill to do that and not look awkward, but he was a patient man, not rushing what didn’t need to be rushed. She savored the reveal, the bare hips, the stiff shaft of his cock that emerged as he pushed down his jeans and boxers. When she hummed her approval, he paused to absorb the sound, though he didn’t stop long enough to disrespect her order.

He wore white cotton boxers, pale against his brown skin. After he was done removing all of it, his clothes in a folded stack next to hers, she gave him another order. “Spread your knees to shoulder width, Rev, and put your hands on them.”

He complied, eyes still closed, lashes fanning his cheeks. She put her hand on herself, stroking, lifting into her touch. When she let out a breathy sound of pleasure, his mouth tightened along with the rest of his body, responding to what he could imagine.

“I’m looking at you while I touch myself, Rev. Would you like to hear me climax while I do that? Knowing it’s because I’m looking at you, wanting you? Making you sit next to me with your eyes closed, only able to look at that painted picture in your head?”

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