Page 48 of Haze

“So demanding.” I smack her ass twice more. The belt lands with full, hard slaps against her cheeks.

She moans. The beautiful woman before me moans in arousal, wanting my belt. And I oblige, giving her a dozen more strikes to each side until her moans turn to small whines, and when I stop, it’s only to slide my fingers between her legs and rejoice in the slick warmth of her heat.

Her groan rumbles from deep in her belly as I find her throbbing clit. Rolling it between my fingers is purely to torment her. I’ve never been so conflicted when it comes to a woman. What do I want more, to feast on this delicacy and draw out her pleasure until she’s soaked the sheets and begging me to fill her, or take her now and feel that pussy milk me dry?

“Please,” Lena whines, answering my internal questions. “Please fuck me.”

Lena begs so beautifully. I’ll oblige but on my terms. Withdrawing my fingers, I run my hands down the planes of her back. Bending over her, my cock slides between her legs. Pushing my head against her clit but choosing not to enter her draws a frustrated sigh from her.

Fisting her hair, I pull, and she moves with my guidance off her elbows to upright. Her back pressed against my chest gives my free hand full access to her beautiful tits.

“I love seeing you on your knees for me. I plan to put you on them quite regularly.”

Her gasp tells me everything I need to know. Pulling her head aside, I run my teeth along her neck. She moans and whimpers as I nip harder at the mating mark I’ve given her.

“What’s your favorite way to be taken, faolan?” I ask, pulling her hair and tilting her head to the side so I can look into her eyes.

My cock is dripping, and I can’t tell if it’s from me weeping for her or her wetness coating me. Pulling myself from behind her before I take her too quickly is agonizing for both of us. The matching groans a clear indicator we’re dancing dangerously.

“However it best pleases my Dominant,” she answers, her eyes heavy with lust.

“And before you were such a good girl?” I ask, trying to bring her back to basics.

I’ll wipe all her past Dominants out of her mind. It’ll only be my rules and protocols in her head.

Lena doesn’t have an answer. She swallows hard.

“How is it that no one’s taken good enough care of you to give you a preference? You’re fucking perfect, and yet no one’s treated you like the prize you are.” I hope my angry growl on her behalf communicates my loathing for the fools who haven’t sated her, but now isn’t the time.

I can smell how badly Lena needs me.

“Hard and fast, Lena?” I offer her.

“Please.” Lena’s voice sounds so desperate.

My cock throbs. I move her back down to the mattress. Pushing her face down, I slide her knees upward, allowing me the deep access I want. Her breath hitches as I position myself behind her.

It’s agonizing how slow I move to sink into her wet cunt. But it’s a blissful sort of agony. Lena’s pussy grips me, her walls squeezing tighter to pull me in.

As I slide all the way in, we vocalize our enjoyment at the same time. Mine in a deep groan and Lena’s in a heady gasp. She presses her ass and hips up toward me before sliding down slowly, trying to fuck herself on me. Normally, I’d correct her for taking more than what I’m providing. But the scent of her arousal is so thick and sweet I can’t resist. Not right now anyway.

Pulling back slowly, I begin to fuck her. Rutting hard and deep, I listen as Lena’s little gasps turn to wild moans. I lower myself over her back and kiss the mark on her shoulder. I bite around it, and she hums with pleasure.

She’s fucking perfect. Taking each thrust with cries of pleasure, Lena comes in long waves. The changes in her noises tell me everything from start to finish about her orgasm. Once her orgasm subsides, I fuck her faster. Lena’s body starts to tremble, building toward another orgasm.

Her excitement forces my heart rate faster. I come hard. My vision blurs and flickers as I finish inside her. Coating her walls is a blissful experience, knowing that with every passing moment, she could be carrying my pups.

* * *

Lena wakes me a few hours later. It’s not frenzied or needy. She traces the details of the wings tattooed across my chest with long, languid strokes going out to the ends and back.

“Like what you see, faolan?”

The question startles her. “Shit. Sorry, you’re a deep sleeper.”

“Answer my question,” I prompt her.

“Your artist is superb.” Lena still doesn’t answer the question. A few moments of silence pass between us before something changes. She elaborates. “I love your art. It’s a great style. It fits well with your body and moves excellently.” Her eyes turn to mine.

---