Page 41 of Dallas
I sober slightly at his tone. I’m not scared. I’m curious.
Finally, he points toward the bedroom. “On the bed, elbows and knees, ass facing me, thighs wide.”
I shudder as I move in that direction. The position he’s commanded me to assume is going to be very embarrassing. He’s seen me naked several times now, but I’ve never put my butt on display for him. He will see my tight rosette without having to pull my cheeks apart.
I climb onto the bed without daring to look over my shoulder. There are some things I’m probably better off not knowing ahead of time, but I can hear him opening drawers and shuffling around.
When Dallas comes to me, he sets a few items on the bed near my knee, but I don’t look. In fact, I close my eyes.
I gasp a moment later when he parts my cheeks and holds them open. For long seconds, that’s all he does. Expose me.
“Such a pretty hole,” he says. “I’m going to enjoy seeing it plugged.”
I whimper and tighten the muscles in my butt when the feel of his hands disappears. I’m trembling as the lid of something pops open, and my breath hitches when a cold liquid dribbles down my butt crack.
Dallas sets one hand on the small of my back and uses a finger from his other hand to rub the lubricant around my hole. “You want this tight hole filled, don’t you, baby?”
“No, Sir,” I lie.
He chuckles. “You’ve been defying me all day, testing me, pushing me. You’ve been curious about how it will feel to have my plug in your bottom ever since I mentioned it.”
I whimper again, not responding.
He taps my rosette. “Relax. I’m going to push my finger into you first because it’s more intimate and embarrassing. I’m going to fuck that finger in and out of you until you relax and ask me to plug your bottom.”
I gasp. Ask him? Oh, God.
I clench my butt cheeks the moment he pushes a finger into me. It feels so wrong. So naughty. So dirty. Forbidden. And so good.
It’s intimate in a way I’ve never experienced. It doesn’t hurt. It just feels weird. As he eases his finger in and out, I try to relax. It’s hard because my brain tells me I should be rebelling. I should tell him no. Butts are off-limits. But I can’t tell him that because I want him to own me like this. Every inch of me. I feel closer to him. I’m going to feel ten times closer when we finally have sex.
He rubs my back with his other hand. “I bet you’d enjoy it even more if this finger were in your cunt.”
I moan as I think of that sensation. What will it feel like to have him inside me? His finger, his tongue, his cock… “Please…”
He chuckles. “What do you have to do to get that pussy filled, Arianna?”
I draw in a long breath and blow it out. “Marry you.”
“Mmm. We could fix that tomorrow.”
I don’t respond. I shudder, though. Marry him… It’s crazy, isn’t it?
I whimper louder when he removes his finger, pushing my ass back toward him on instinct.
He chuckles. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m going to fill this tight hole with something even wider.”
I squeeze my eyes closed as the blunt end of something presses against my hole. The plug. I’ve never even seen one. I should have done a Google search so at least I would know what they look like. All I have to go on is what I’ve read in books. That’s not much of a visual.
“Relax your bottom, baby.” He swirls the tip around my rosette. “It will go in easier if you stop clenching.”
Am I clenching? I guess I am. It’s impossible not to. I force myself to relax, but it’s hard. This is so foreign.
“Ask me to plug your bottom, Arianna.”
Oh, God. He told me he would make me ask. I tremble. Asking him to put that inside me is even filthier than the act itself.
Can I do it? Ask him?
