Page 74 of Before Broken Vows
I moan around him, the vibration making him thrust slightly. I take him deeper, relaxing my throat, remembering exactly what he likes. My hands grip his thighs as I work him with my mouth, my tongue swirling around his sensitive head.
His breathing quickens, and his grip in my hair tightens. "Such a good girl now," he murmurs. "Making up for being so bad."
The praise sends a thrill through me. I've always responded to his words, to the power of them. I push him in further, taking him as deep as I can, letting him hit the back of my throat.
He takes both hands and grips my head and starts thrusting, fucking my face. My eyes water as he uses my mouth like my Sir should.
Then he groans. "Enough," he says, pulling back. "Stand up."
I do, my legs shaky beneath me. My robe hangs open now, exposing my naked body to his gaze.
Theo rips the robe off and tosses it. He leans down and takes my right nipple in his mouth, his warm tongue flicking it. I arch, and he moves across, sucking my other nipple, sending erotic firethrough me, leading right to my vagina, which is throbbing for him.
“Your body, Stassi, it’s even more perfect than I remember,” he says licking me.
His words make me melt into him.
"Turn around," he commands. "Hands on the bed."
"Yes, Sir," I comply, turning.
I bend forward, placing my palms flat on the mattress. The position arches my back, pushing my ass out toward him.
He steps behind me, his heat radiating against my skin. One of his hands slides up my back and grips my hair. "Spread your legs wider."
I adjust my stance, widening the space between my feet. I'm so wet now that I can feel it slicking my thighs. The desire I have for him is almost unbearable.
His fingers trace the curve of my ass, then slide lower, finding my wetness. I gasp at the contact, my body jerking.
"So wet for me," he says, his voice dark. "That's my girl."
He slides a finger inside me, then another, stretching me. It's been so long that the intrusion burns slightly, but in the best way. I push back against his hand, wanting more.
"Please," I say, the word escaping before I can stop it.
He releases my hair and brings his hand down on my ass in a sharp slap. The sting burns in the most delicious way possible.
"Did I say you could beg?"
I shake my head. "No, Sir. I'm sorry."
"You will be." His fingers pump into me faster, his thumb finding my clit. Pleasure builds, coiling tight in my core. I bite my lip to keep from crying out.
"I'm going to punish you for every goddamn night I spent alone," he growls.
"Punish me," I moan. "Make me pay for every second."
He withdraws his fingers abruptly, leaving me aching. I hear him step back, and I want to look over my shoulder, to see what he's doing, but I know better. I stay still, waiting for his next command.
The bed dips as he sits beside me. "Look at me," he says.
I turn my head to see him, still gloriously naked, his erection standing proud. He pats his thigh. "Over my knee."
My stomach flips. We've been here before, so many times. It was always a favorite of his—the power, the control, the way he could make me fall apart with just his hand.
I drape myself across his lap, my ass in the air, my face pressed sideways against the bedspread. My hair falls around me like a curtain, and I push it back so I can see him.
His hand rests on the small of my back, warm and heavy. "Count for me," he says. "And thank me after each one."
