Page 24 of The Billionaire Submissive
She rubbed him back and forth, stirring the cherry pie to a churned-up mess.
“That’s a pretty pitiful attempt at fucking, Donovan.” Despite her words, her voice was laced with amusement, not disappointment. “Are you going to fuck me so hesitantly? Or are you going to rear back and shove that big dick into me as hard as you can?”
Her words shook something loose inside him. He’d never had a woman talk dirty to him before. He’d never had a woman crack open his head and look inside to see all the secret things he wanted. The things that shamed him to his core. All the secret desires he tried so hard to ignore and forget while his life iced over in the worst winter known to man. She made him look and feel and see, melting the ice inch by determined inch.And if she tells me to fuck a cherry pie while she watches…
With a low growl, he buried his cock deep into the pie.
“There you go. Good boy.” She released him, letting him set the pace. It was strange, weird, easily the kinkiest thing he’d ever done in his life. He had to brace a knee on the edge of the bed and tip his hips forward to get into the pie, but he managed to thrust hard enough the pie plate skidded on the box.
Lilly braced her knee against the pie plate to give him some traction. Then she drizzled whipped cream all over him, starting from the base of his cock. It dribbled down his belly and dripped off to puddle in the stirred-up pie. White and red. Just like her dress.
“Now that, dear boy, is my dessert.”
He couldn’t quite believe she was going to do it. She’d clipped her hair back from her face, not as smoothly as before but enough he could see her face as she bent forward. Her lush, tempting lips parting to slide down the length of him. Her tongue licking the cherry filling, the trails of cream. She moaned her enjoyment, unafraid, uninhibited, completely at ease eating pie and whipped cream off his cock. Closing his eyes, he rocked into the warm pie, lost in the feel of her lips moving over him.
He heard the crack before he actually felt it. The path of the blow burned in his flesh, a hard slash across the outside of his left thigh. His eyes flew open, his body tensing. Her right arm rose again, bringing the thick wooden spoon down on him again. Again.
His breath came quicker, the pain overriding the warmth of the pie. He forgot all about the cherries, the cream, and even her mouth, at least temporarily. Punishment. What he’d craved so desperately. She hit him again and again, hard enough his eyes burned. He sucked in his breath with each blow, louder, until he groaned with the bliss of it. All from a lousy wooden spoon. He would have laughed and yeah, probably cried, if he had any breath in his body. The blows moved down his leg toward his knee, both on the opposite and the front of his thigh. Such heat. His skin burned like he’d planted the side of his body in the ovens where Dmitri had baked the cherry pie.
She paused a moment, just long enough for him to realize she was changing her position. She pushed him off the bed to stand, abandoning the molested pie. She remained on her knees on the edge of the bed, and this time when he slid into warmth, he had the tightness of her mouth.
Now the blows came from the left. She gripped his hips with her right hand, reaching around his left to land blows deeper on his buttocks. Yet she still managed to suck him so hard his thighs trembled with the effort of holding himself back.
Drawing back a moment, she looked up at him. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth smeared with cherry. Whipped cream dotted her nose. “You can touch me, Donovan.” Until then, he hadn’t realized that he’d kept his hands locked at his sides. “When I want to keep your hands off me, you’ll know it.”
With trembling hands, he reached out and cupped her cheek, using his thumb to wipe the cherry off. “Li—Mistress?”
“Yes?” She smiled up at him even as she lowered her mouth toward his cock.
“I never… I didn’t think…” Her mouth clamped on him and he couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. Her hair was tangled in his hands. A blazing fist punched through his gut to bury in his spine and he arched his back, a wordless roar breaking out to drown out any sound of release he’d ever made in his life.
Then she smacked him on the chest with the wooden spoon, directly over his heart, and he swore the last bit of ice encasing his chest cracked and broke away.
Chapter Seven
Panting as if he’d run a marathon, Donovan collapsed on the bed beside her, almost planting his face in the mess of cherry pie. Tenderly, she stroked his cheek. “Are you all right?”
He cracked an eye open and muttered, “Mmmm.”
Laughing, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and sat up.
He forced his eyes open, throwing a hand out to snag her arm before she could get up. “Where are you going?”
“I was going to clean up before we thoroughly destroy your bed.”
“I don’t care about the bed. And don’t you dare throw the pie out until I have the chance to eat some off you.”
He managed to roll over flat on his back, but he didn’t look like he was up to anything more strenuous yet. She settled back down against his side, propping her chin up on his chest so she could watch his face. Lightly, she traced her index finger over the red mark on his sternum. His hips and thighs were probably a delightful pink, but she wasn’t going to make him move to find out. “Are you sure you want to dip into that pie after what we already did to it?”
One side of his mouth twitched up like he was trying to smile, but didn’t have the strength. “You’re probably right. I hate to waste it, though. I didn’t even get a bite.”
She grinned. “It was very, very good. I am sorry, though. I meant to scoop out some for each of us—that’s why I sent you after dishes. I just forgot.”
“The cream’s still good, isn’t it?”
“Runny but tasty.”
“Not as tasty as you will be.” His breathing evened out enough for him to watch her as carefully as she’d watched him earlier. Assessing her reactions. Judging what to do next. He was a very astute man; she feared few of her secrets would remain once he started digging. “If that’s allowed, Mistress.”
