Page 45 of At Her Will

When he complied, she straddled him, stood over him. “Open your eyes.”

His irises were melted copper, the centers black as the primeval darkness his song had evoked. He stared at all of her, her thighs, the triangle of her sex, the tilt of her breasts and her mane of hair, tangled over her shoulders.

“Blessed Lady,” he murmured. “Thank you, sweet Jesus.”

Her chest was tight with painful, pleasurable need. “What do you want, Rev?”

“You upon me, Mistress. Me inside you. Serving you.”

“Ask for it.”

“Please, Mistress. Let me serve you. Give you pleasure. Give you joy.”

She lowered herself, gripping his cock to guide him into her. His attention latched onto her mouth as she bit her lip. She was slick with need, but he was engorged enough to make it an effort to take him, a balance she appreciated with pure feminine ecstasy, the right fit between their two bodies.

His arm muscles flexed, fingers curling. She wanted his hands on her, but she was exploring how well he respected the boundaries she set. She told herself her aching need to toss them out the window wouldn’t serve them going forward, even as atruer voice told her she was protecting herself from how much she was feeling for him.

She accepted that. She rocked her pelvis on him, drawing that ecstasy closer, but holding her own leash on it as his body tightened. She was making it tough on him, and that gave her joy, too. He groaned as she dropped her head back on her shoulders, arching her back, tilting her breasts. The air movement made the nipples more sensitive as she rose and fell, the friction of him within her only stoking that fire.

“Mistress…please…I need to…”

“Not yet,” she breathed. “Not yet… Move with me, Rev.”

He did, hips thrusting up, trying to match her rhythm even as his breath grew more ragged. Her chin came back down as she gazed upon him. His face held granite strength. He was dedicating himself to her need, to her commands. Fighting his own will. It caught her on fire, and it spread all over her.

Let’s see just how good you can be…

She let her orgasm roll forth and take her, a strong wave that rocked her body, locked all her muscles and turned a hum of pleasure into a cry. Every nerve involved, the energy she’d channeled throughout this session turning the release into a long wave that held her the way she wanted him to hold her. A thrilling embrace, experienced on an eternal journey together.

She wanted him to see it, to want to be within it with her, enough to deny himself whatever she demanded inside this intimate circle, a circle about the two of them and their connection to things far bigger than the mundane world.

Then, pinnacle reached, those thoughts were swept away. The strength of it bucked her upon him, so much it made her lose her balance. His hands were there at once, one on her waist, one at the side of her throat, holding her steady, his eyes upon her, still fierce with the desire to release, but it hadn’t overwhelmed his desire to serve.

Everything she could want in a sub.

She put her hands over his and gripped, their fingers lacing as she rocked and shuddered, convulsing from the power of the climax.

When it finally ebbed, that hold was still there, and he was a taut cord beneath her, his cock pulsing inside her cunt, her quivering, sensitive tissues gripping him.

“What do you want, Rev?” she asked again, her voice trembling.

He stared up at her. “To stay like this forever, Mistress.”

“Without releasing, finding your own…joy?”

She liked how that wry look found a place amid the urgent need, its darker side. “I afraid…if I do that…it like a storm. The more powerful it is, the more it can take away what you don’t want to lose.”

Her mind was swirling and chaotic, body trembling. And yet his words created a still point that made her find her balance. And her answer for him.

“Your grip is strong, Rev,” she whispered. “I know you won’t let go. Draw a deep, slow breath.”

When he struggled to comply, she slid up his length, and started to come down. “Let it out,” she murmured. “And come for me now.”

He conceded the battle but disengaged his fingers, gripping her hips with such bruising strength she knew he’d done it to protect her fingers. The gesture made the song inside her rise to a greater pitch.

Vera moved with him, gripping, stroking, and crying out at the jet of his seed. Her hands fell to his chest, digging in as they rocked together, caught in a boat on a turbulent ocean. It took them up higher and plunged them down over the crests, only to bring them up again.

Her second orgasm wasn’t as powerful, but it didn’t need to be. Joy had many different ways of expressing itself. She gasped at his guttural cry and how forcefully he brought her back down on him, again and again, the animal in him as fully unleashed as she’d commanded it to be.

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