Page 122 of Serving the Mogul

“Master, please…please!”

Setting my feet wider, I pulled her hips closer. I slammed into her, feeling the final sweet yielding off her muscles as she opened and accepted my domination over her delicious body.

Two strokes later and she came, hard, a rush of liquid flowing from her cunt despite the toy pulsing inside her.

I pulled out, flipped her onto her stomach, spread her cheeks with my palms and pushed inside her snug ass while she was still caught in her climax. It set her off again, her muscles quivering and clamping tight around me.

“Harder!”

I unleashed the grip of control I’d barely clung to and fucked her fully, completely, with not even a shred of control.

And when I came, the orgasm was so powerful. It left my head spinning, more than a little.

* * *

“Still sore?”

Tina sat in my lap, her head on my shoulder while the hot water of the jacuzzi bubbled and frothed around us.

We’d taken a shower, then I picked her up and carried her to the small, glass-enclosed space where I’d had a jacuzzi built into a natural stone basin. Tina told me it looked like an oasis, and I had to agree.

With her in my arms, it felt like paradise.

“Just a little.” Her lips skimmed my cheek, and teasingly she added, “I don’t know if I’m going to be up for that kind of rodeo for a few days, cowboy. But this is the best sort of soreness ever.”

“Cowboy, huh?” I looked down at her to find her grinning.

She pursed her lips. “The best damn cowboy.”

I laughed at that and kissed her.

We lapsed into silence, comfortable with each other. To be honest, I’d never been with anyone this easy tobewith. People, women specifically, might call me difficult to be with or even high maintenance. But Tina made it seem otherwise.

I stroked my hand up her back. “Do you want to do anything today?”

“Hmmm.” After a moment, she said, “Waffles.”

“You want todowaffles? That’s a kink I’m not familiar with, baby.”

She poked me in the side. “Ha, ha. I’m hungry, and I want waffles.”

Then she threw a leg over my lap, straddling me. “Do you have a waffle iron?”

“No.” I didn’t even have to consider it.

“James…” She placed her hands, palms down on my chest, a patient exasperation on her pretty face. “You have a kitchen that could put a five-star Michelin chef to shame. And you don’t have awaffleiron?”

“Baby, the only things in my kitchen are things I know how touse.” Pressing a kiss to the sensitive space behind her ear, I nipped her earlobe. “That means a couple of skillets, a can opener, a couple of spatulas and...um, I don’t know a bunch of other stuff.”

“Uncultured brute.” She gave me a playful swat.

“Guilty.” I kissed her, running my fingers through hair that had yet to dry from our shower. “How about we get dressed and go into town? I know a place that has a fantastic brunch, then we can shop for these so-called ‘cultured’ waffle irons, pick up groceries, and you can make waffles tomorrow?”

Forty-Five

Tina

I wokeup feeling the urge to go for a nice, long run, all the energy in my body begging for an outlet.

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