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He holds my stare until I eventually avert my eyes, looking down and slightly to the left. Taking my time and internally protesting my every move, I crawl off the couch onto the floor and wait for him on hands and knees.
He takes his time peeling off his shirt. I’ll admit, I’m both turned on and a little pissed off. The anticipation is killing me. One part of me is embarrassed, the other part is saying hurry the hell up!
“If you’re not that interested…” I start to rise.
With both hands, he grips my hips and pulls me back into place. “I did not tell you to move.”
“Then stop messing around and get on with it!” The words come out somewhat guttural, and I freeze.
That’s not me…
Zeno leans down, his warm breath teasing my outer earlobe as he whispers: “I’ll get on with it when I’m good and ready.”
Moving behind me, he lines himself up with my already dripping entrance and shoves deep inside. It’s blissful relief until he sets an agonizingly slow pace. I know this is his way of asserting control over the animal he claims I have…and now I know he’s right; I do have an animal inside. One that I feel getting very, very angry.
Out of sheer spite, I rock back and forth to increase his pace.
Smack! He swats my ass and grips my hips, holding me firmly in place. Ignoring his grip, I try to rock my hips again. He stills, his tip barely inside my entrance.
My insides are on fire, and I want—scratch that—I need him to move. Just as I open my mouth to order him to do just that, I bite down on my lower lip. If I say a word, I know it will prolong what I want even more. But it’s hard not to remain silent.
He begins to move again very slowly, enough to drive me straight out of my mind. This pace must be sheer torture for him too.
Unless he actually gets off on this power trip.
Either way, it’s exhausting to keep so quiet and still, not taking what I want, not even moaning as he slowly rocks his hips and doesn’t even enter me completely. My toes curl and I squeeze my eyes shut, biting down on my lower lip. I think I taste blood.
And then I feel it: Submissiveness. Something inside has conceded to Zeno being the one in charge. How strange.
My toes uncurl, eyes blink open as my entire body completely relaxes. I still want him to stop playing around, but all at once I’m okay with not asserting my will over him. He must notice the change.
“That’s my good girl.”
And then he slams into me, taking me to the hilt and hitting that sweet spot that makes my eyes roll back in my head.
His rhythm increases to a frenzy and I’m on conflicting cusps of pleasure and pain. To tip me into unbridled pleasure, Zeno suddenly leans forward and reaches around, applying pressure to my-oh-so-sensitive nub.
My breathing stills and I’m free-falling over the edge of desire as the pressure builds. Then, I’m soaring through the air of euphoria as a wave of overwhelming orgasm utterly consumes me, making my channel tighten around his cock even as he continues to pump in and out, in and out...
Just as I’m floating back to my body, Zeno tightens his arm around my waist, holding himself deep inside until I feel his cock pulsing with release.
The only sound in the room is my own heavy breathing as Zeno kisses my back, right below my neck. I collapse down to my stomach, my legs and arms unable to hold me up any longer.
Zeno is still over the top of me, supporting his weight on his elbows when he gently rolls me onto my back. He plants tender kisses on my lips, and smiles.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.”
“What?” I ask, eyebrows drawn down.
“Submitting.”
“I think I bit a chunk out of my lower lip.”
Using his thumb, he turns my lip outward.
“I see,” he says, then licks it. “That will help.”
This tender side of him is a bit confusing, but I like it. I like all of it—hard, dominant, tender.
