Page 205 of Made Better Together

“Mmmmm.”

The other night, I’d read a novel where the Dom loved to make the sub beg, so I try it. “Sir, please…I’ll do anything.”

That line does the trick, as he tilts his head up, stopping his action. His eyes heated. “You don’t need to do anything, Rosy, except be a good girl.”

He slowly releases his hands and stands up. Watching me while stroking his cock, erect at his full seven inches.

“I will fuck you, but the way I want,” he says after a few seconds. “Come over to the kitchen counter.”

It’s only a few feet away from the entryway, and I step to the closest part. His small apartment is open concept, and I’m standing on the side of the counter that transitions into the living room.

“Here, Sir?”

“Yes, good. My smart girl. Now rest your arms across the counter, in front of you, straight toward the kitchen.” He steps behind me. “That perfect ass facing me.”

I don’t question, just extend my arms out. As soon as they hit the cold faux marble, he starts walking toward the bedroom.

“Stay there. I’m getting the cuffs.”

A thrum of excitement comes at their mention. I don’t move, content to be bent over the counter, patiently waiting. He returns with them and, from inside the kitchen, secures my wrists.

“I’m looping the cuffs through the cabinet handle on this side.” He tugs on the metal connection once he finishes. “You can’t move, Rosy. Not unless I let you.”

I hum. “Yes, Sir.”

His binding me to the cabinet has added a new stimulus too. Stretched out more tautly across the counter, my breasts are resting lightly on the marble. The cold touch of the stone is like an ice kiss on my nipples.

With his work done, he takes me in. His eyes flick down to where my breasts and the white stone meet, down further to where my hands are bound, and then back to my face.

“A work of fucking art.”

Despite my contact with the cold surface, I feel hot under his gaze and a surge of joy that he’s so pleased.

“Yours, Sir. Your work of art.”

He rubs his hand across his face, smiling. “Indeed.”

He studies me for another moment, as I lay there, content to be the object of his attention. Finally, he comes around back into the dining area.

“I almost lost focus there.” He rubs a hand down my back, reconnecting our bodies. “I’m going to fuck you so deep tonight, Rosy, that every step you take tomorrow will remind you exactly how mine you are.”

Ahhhh, I get wetter just imagining that. “I’d like that, Sir.” My voice, now thinner, with a hint of a whine.

He pulls my hips in the place he wants them, so my pussy is at the perfect angle, open to him.

All his. All Sir’s.

“Enough talk for now.” He leans down and whispers in my ear. “The only thing you’re allowed to think about is my dick sliding in you, and my finger on your clit.”

“Hmmm,” I moan as my mind blanks out to everything other than him. It’s natural. No effort. He’s Sir.

He grunts, and then I feel the head of his cock against my slit. He pushes himself in me, one hard inch after another. I’m full, so full. Behind me, his hot breath hits my neck.

“Fuck, Rosy. This pussy is perfect.” His hands squeeze my hips as he plunges deeper with each thrust. I’m being stretched deliciously, even though I have almost no way to help from his angle.

When I don’t think it can get any better, he brings a hand around to rub my clit, as promised. Swirling as the pleasure rocks through me, my voice crying out as the intensity mounts.

Within a minute, he’s found a rhythm. Pounding into me while my arms stretch to the other side of the counter. I’m unable to move more than an inch in any direction.