Page 68 of Serving the Mogul

“No, Master.”

A hot, dirty smile twitched his lips before he turned away to grab something.

The pulsating vibrations of the dildo increased, and I cried out, grinding against the part pressed tight to my clit.

“I’m almost jealous seeing you work yourself against that dildo, Tina. But then I think about this….” He pressed two fingers, cool and slicked with lubricant, to the clenched opening of my ass. “All I can think about is how you will feel as you stretch open around me. Show me you want me there, Tina…show me you want me to ram my cock inside this tight, hot hole.”

I whimpered and pushed down on his fingers.

I hadn’t lied. I enjoyed anal sex, even as I’d always found the experience somehow lacking. It was so taboo, and the idea of it always appealed more than the actual act.

Until now.

James twisted his wrist, screwing two fingers into my ass while his gaze held mine captive in the mirror. His free hand pressed against the small of my back, holding me still for his invasion, which only made the sensual agony worse since the vibrations against my clitoris were almost too much.

He withdrew and pushed in again, working the lubricant deeper. Again, again, with gentle movements, denying me the full penetration he’d given just moments before.

I protested with a moan and moved back onto him, following him until I was fucking myself on his hand and the dildo affixed to the horse.

An orgasm was so close…

He pulled away, and I moaned. “No…please…”

“You aren’t coming until I have that tight ass wrapped around my dick, Tina. Watch.”

In a sensual fugue, I did just that, staring as he slicked lubricant over his cock until it gleamed, then oiled more into his palm, which he rubbed against my sensitive tissues, right where he planned to impale me.

“Watch,” he ordered again, taking care to place his hands so they wouldn’t obstruct my view, as he tucked the head of his swollen, fat cock against me.

I shivered, lips parting in anticipation and a little nervousness at the size of him.

“You don’t want to tighten up on me, baby,” he said, one hand tightening on my hip. “It will feel like glory to me, but it will make it tougher on you…so….”

He rocked, slow, subtle movements that had him working a little deeper each time, movements that stretched and inflamed me until I was mad with it.

“James…”

He spanked me. Hard, the flat of his hand coming down on my ass with enough force to tear a startled cry from me.

“Master,” he corrected, his voice gentle in contrast to the rough strike.

My breath hitched up, trapped in my throat as I stared at the red imprint of his hand on my ass.

“James…”

He grunted, eyes meeting mine before drifting to the imprint of his hand, which he traced with one finger.

“You’re going to be a bratty sub….”

“Whatever it takes to make you fuck me,” I said, panting and wiggling as best I could. “Fuck me, James.”

His eyelids drooped.

He fisted a hand in my hair, gripped my hip with his free one.

And thrust deep, the mingled pleasure and pain setting my synapses ablaze. Buried deep inside me, he spanked me again, then let go of my hair, gripped both hips, and pumped, filling me with slow, deeply penetrating strokes before pulling out so far that only the flared head of his penis remained inside me.

In reflex, my muscles tensed, quivering from such pained, delighted arousal. I didn’t want him to pull out.

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