Page 25 of At Her Will

His voice came out even deeper than usual, vibrating through the lowest, most aware parts of her. “I can barely breathe, Mistress. I want you so much, but I want… I want to hear that desire in your voice. Know I doing what pleases you. It hurts and make me want to thank God a hundred times, that I’m worthy of that kind of gift.”

Goddess, she loved hearing what was going through a sub’s mind when he didn’t edit it, didn’t change a thing about the flow, straight from mind and cock to mouth.

“You said earlier what you’re feeling is like a demand. Tell me about that. In detail.”

A pause as he digested her meaning. Just as she’d hoped, he picked up on it, his voice getting deliciously rougher. “I want to press myself upon you, all your curves against me, feeling the way they fit, the way your hands might grip my shoulders, hold onto me. That plea in your voice as your pleasure rises, knowing that plea is for me too, as much as the command.”

She half-closed her eyes. His words ignited every nerve ending. “Breathe with me, Rev, that deep breath I talked about. Pull it from your testicles, through your cock, to the top of your head.”

Taking his hand, she guided it between her legs, pressing his fingers against the dampness of her underwear, holding them still there, letting him feel her swollen sex shift under his hand as she drew in matching breaths. His cock and testicles convulsed, the tip of his cock glistening.

“You don’t use rougher words, do you, Rev? Cock. Cunt. Ass.”

“No ma’am. But if those words mean something different to you, special or sacred, then that’s what they’ll mean to me.”

“In Tantra, the man’s sex is called a lingam, the woman’s a yoni. They’re just words, and they mean the same thing. It’s how you say them that makes them special or sacred.”

Under his touch, she stroked herself some more. His expression, even with closed eyes, was intent. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said.

“I’m following what you doing, so I know what you like.”

“That’s good. But a man’s hand can give a woman different sensations, even doing the same things.” She changed theposition of their fingers. “Take off my panties and put your fingers inside me, Rev. Gently.”

“Always, Mistress.” The resolute note in his voice was the same as had been there when he told Cyn he promised to care for her. It made her tremble.

He slid the garment off, then found his way back up her thighs with lingering touches, strokes with a yearning pressure. Her legs parted for him. As he eased in two fingers, he used a careful skill that told her it wasn’t his first time, but it wasn’t something he did often enough to get careless with the privilege. She let out a pleased moan, and a strong desire gripped his expression.

“That breathing you have me doing…everything in me is on fire, but it so still, too. Vibrating.”

“Yes. Move your fingers like you’d move your cock inside me, Rev. Go slow.”

He started to thrust, and she rolled her hips with the movement, lifting her body with the rhythm. She clasped his biceps, drawing him down toward her. “I want your mouth on my breast, Rev. Put it to good use.”

He touched his lips to the upper curve, exploring it like he had with his eyes. An inch at a time, making his way to her nipple without rushing. His body quivered, showing he was doing everything he could to go slow, to take his time. When he finally covered the nipple, the slow draw that led to a tender suckling pulled more low, harsh moans from her. She moved in a dance with his efforts.

His fingers moved in her, lips suckling her. She had to fight to get words out, but she’d win that fight because the Mistress in her wanted even more from him.

“Can you deny yourself for me, Rev? No climax for you, not until I say?”

He lifted his head enough to answer. “I want you to find your joy at my touch. From my touch. From looking at me.”

“Open your eyes and tell me more about what you want.”

Their faces were close, so when he obeyed, she saw the alpha lurking in those depths, able to partner with the beta, changing leads as the moment called for it, as experience and intuition had taught him. The gingerbread color had deepened to the darkness of fertile soil.

“Let it happen now, please. Mistress. For me.”

The orgasm gripped her, that red fire spiraling tight out of her core and adding to what was already rushing through her, hardening her nipple under his tongue as he put his head down and recaptured it. While he suckled more forcefully, he passed his thumb over her clit in featherlike brushes. He thrust his fingers in and out, in and out, curling them up against her G-spot. She gripped his shoulders, clawing at the flexing muscle as her head tipped back, throat arching, pressing her breast deeper into his mouth.

His free arm slid under her, palm flattening against her back, fingers spread to hold her up. He helped her work through every blissful spasm as she cried out her pleasure to the marsh and to all those wishes written on the notebook pages.

When the climax finally ebbed, she dropped a hand from his shoulder to the back of his head, over the short crop of his hair, pressing into the firm skull beneath it as he kept slowly teasing and sucking on her nipple.

“Oh Goddess…” When his fingers slid out of her, one last shudder of reaction followed the withdrawal from her slick flesh. She had him raise his head, his cock steel against her thigh, the wet tip leaving a kiss of reminder against her skin.

“There’s a song,” he said. His voice held the urgency of a man with a raging hard-on and no relief in sight. The sound caused one last ripple through her cunt, a tiny spasm of reaction. “Onethey play on the radio, that remind me of the songs they sing in church. One lyric of it go something like, “‘I’ll rise up a thousand times to do it all again… No matter the ache…’”

“I think I know that one. Sing it to me.”

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