Page 87 of Peaches & Pistols

“Fuck. What are you doing to me?” He explores the contour of my body, from my waist, over my hips, around my ass, and down the backs of my thighs.

“Giving you control.” I flip my hair to look over my shoulder at the force of nature that is Greyson Clark.

“Take me. Use me. I’m yours.”

Blackness consumes his eyes as his tightly-held composure snaps.

He gathers my hair into his fist, wrapping the rope around once, twice, tilting my head back until my scalp stings from the pull.

“Damn right, you’re mine.” His other hand snakes up the front of the oversized T-shirt, to find my breasts bare. “Jesus,” he groans, squeezing my tits one by one.

“Elbows on the bed, face down, ass up,” he orders, releasing my hair from his grip.

Again, by body moves unbidden.

“Good girl,” he praises, making my back bow deeper, lifting my ass higher. Calloused fingers walk up my vertebrae, bunching the shirt around my shoulders.

“Seeing you in my clothes pleases me. And you love to please me, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” It slips out. My face heats with embarrassment and I bury my face in the bed.

“Fuuuuuck,” Greyson groans, painfully gripping my hips, grinding his denim-clad erection into my ass. “I shouldn’t love that as much as I do.”

I whimper, aroused beyond measure knowing I turned him on.

“Are you going to be such a good girl for me?” The words coming from his mouth is filthy, the depravity has my pussy clenching around air.

I nod frantically. Greyson’s spank forces a gasp from the bottom of my lungs.

“Yes, what? Mia?”

“Yes…sir.” His growl is confirmation he wants this as much as I do.

“Looks like we’ll be exploring this new dynamic, together.”

“You’ve never done this before?” I ask, insecurity roaring in my ears.

“No, honey, this is just for us.” His reassurance is exactly what I need to hear.

I bend my neck so I can see around my legs. My jaw drops as Greyson toes off his boots and tosses away his socks. Saliva pools in my wide-open mouth as he unbuckles his belt and undoes his jeans.

Unphased by my leering, he reaches into his jeans and squeezes his hard cock, now stretching his boxer briefs to their limit, desperate for relief.

Greyson drops to his knees behind me, dragging my simple, cotton thong to my ankles. Once he removes it, I widen my stance. He brings the fabric to his nose and deeply draws in my scent. I flush hot. Why is that so dirty, and intimate? And why do I love it?

He tucks them into his back pocket, no intention of returning them to me.

Before I can recover from the shock, he spreads my ass cheeks and drags his tongue from my clit to the place I’ve never been touched. I flinch and his fingernails dig into my ass, holding me in place. He repeats his path over and over again, until my legs are shaking.

“Why does that feel so good?” I whine.

“Because I own your pleasure, and I’ll always give you what you need.” He roughly cups me where I’m soaked between my legs.

“This pussy is mine.” One finger drags through my slit, drawing another whimper from my throat.

“This ass is mine.” His thumb presses gently on my tight hole.

Greyson stands, rubbing his cock on my ass, his underwear damp from pre-cum. He guides me to stand with his hands wrapped around my ribcage. He painstakingly removes the T-shirt hindering his full control and palms my breasts.