Page 52 of Boss Me Around

Hopefully, for the rest of our lives.

I can’t imagine loving another man the way I love Chris, a fact I prove once I’m home and have changed into my fur bra and leather loincloth with the matching fur and leather boots. I tease my hair into a wild tangle of fluff around my shoulders and smear mascara on my chest and cheeks for makeshift war dirt.

Bella wanders by the bathroom at one point and chirps in seeming amusement, before yawning and toddling into the master closet where she likes to sleep in our dirty laundry during the day. She’s a darling girl—even if she does have a weird affinity for stinky sweat socks and underpants—and I’m so grateful to be her mom.

I’m also grateful that she seems to understand when Christian and I want privacy and makes herself scarce—no more appearing under the covers for post-coital licks, though she does occasionally crawl into bed with us before morning. But that’s okay. Since Kyle and Penny have taken to sleeping in an extra-large dog bed in the laundry room, there’s more room in the bed than there used to be.

Though I don’t intend on using the bed today…

As soon as I hear the front door close, signaling Christian’s back from his morning run, I grab my plastic battle axe and head out to meet him in the hall.

The moment he locks eyes on me in my wild getup, he breaks into a smile of surprised delight. “Oh no, Lady Warlord,” he murmurs, kicking off his shoes by the door, “please don’t kidnap me and force me back to your tent to pleasure you all night long on a bed of furs. I’m sweaty from my run and have a very serious girlfriend.”

“I couldn’t care less about your sweat or your woman, captive,” I say, fighting a grin as I wield my plastic axe menacingly his way. “I want a child and you’re the first man I’ve come across in years in this dark forest. You will fuck me until I conceive, or your cock falls off in my bed, but be sure of this—I will have a baby from you.” I hesitate before adding in a more sultry tone, “And…my pleasure.”

His breath rushes out as he murmurs, “Fuck, you’re hot.”

“To my bed!” I shout, herding him into the living room, where I’ve turned out all the lights, made a makeshift “tent” out of several sheets draped across the furniture, and arranged flickering electric candles around the fake fur blanket I bought on sale last week. “I want you naked and hard for me, captive.”

“Yes, mistress, right away,” he says, stripping out of his running pants and shirt with an enthusiasm that makes my nipples tighten in my furry bra.

Damn, this man looks good in nothing at all.

I can’t help grunting, “You’re a fine specimen, captive. I think you’ll make strong, sturdy offspring.”

“I’ll try, mistress,” he says, his cock already thick and hard as he tosses his boxer briefs to the ground. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a turn-on to think about coming bare inside a woman like you.”

Damn. I’ve never been so glad to be on the pill and in a committed, condom-free relationship.

I pull in a breath, shivering a little as I rasp, “On the furs. On your back. I intend to stake my claim on every inch of that fine cock.”

“And I don’t intend to put up a fight,” he says, casting one last heated glance my way before dropping down to his knees to move through the small entrance into the tent.

Thanking my lucky stars, my fairy godmother, and whatever mixture of genetics and solid, empowering upbringing gave me the guts to ask Christian to be my sex mentor in the first place, I join him, determined to make this a morning he’ll never forget.

Chapter Twenty-Two

CHRISTIAN

More and more often these days, I find myself wondering how I got so damned lucky.

Not only is Starling one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen, she’s also hardworking, compassionate, brave, funny, and a stone-cold weirdo who jumps into our role-playing with every bit of her considerable heart and soul.

“That’s right, captive, work yourself for me,” she says as she pushes me onto my back on the furry blanket and straddles my hips. “Let me see you stroke yourself.”

“Yes, mistress.” I jerk my cock slowly from base to tip as she draws her furry bra up and over her head, treating me to a delicious view of her slightly dirty tits.

She’s smeared something on herself—black makeup of some kind?—to make her look like a barbarian warrior princess fresh from battle, and call me a sex pervert, but I am here for it. I am so here for it, I stop stroking myself, needing a break from erotic stimulation before I embarrass myself, only to earn a sharp smack on my thigh from my domineering warlordess.

“I said stroke yourself, captive,” she says, cupping her breasts in her hands. “Displease me again, and I won’t let you suck my nipples while I ride you.”

“I apologize, mistress,” I say, gripping myself at the base of my cock and squeezing, willing myself to retain control. “Don’t take the nipples off the table. It would be my honor and privilege to worship your breasts while you take your pleasure from my lowly, unworthy cock.”

Her lips quirk, but she regains control, staying in character as she murmurs, “Your cock is lowly and unworthy, but…I like the shape of it.”

“You do?” I bite my bottom lip as she begins to tease her own nipples, making me even crazier to get my hands—and my mouth—on them.

She glances down, the feel of her gaze on me enough to make me even harder. “Yes. And the way it glistens at the tip for me.” Her eyes slide back to my face, connecting with mine with enough electricity to make my heart skip a beat. “What do you call that, captive?”

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