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It came as no surprise when Ms. Anderssen took her wife to bed, pushing her down, half-dressed, and spreading her legs. After having been with another woman only a minute ago, Ms. Anderssen now made love to her wife. Grace came to them both, biting Mrs. Anderssen’s nipple.
Something hard dug into the top of Monique’s ass. Helen’s breath was heavy in her ear, hands groping her through her red dress.Her grip is… hypnotic.Knuckles pushed into Monique’s lower back, that fist promising more than a mere kiss to the chest.
Monique wanted to do anything and everything at once, but she hadn’t been told to doanythingbut stay quiet. She took those kinds of commands seriously, especially when they came from a woman like Helen Warner, with whom she shared an erotic tension that threatened to short-circuit the cameras connecting them to the rest of the house.
Monique whimpered, grinding in Helen’s lap as she continued to grope and kiss her. “Are you wet, Monique?” Helen asked, hand covering her mouth again.I won’t talk.You didn’t tell me to. “Because I’m so ready for you that I don’t want to wait any longer. Tell me!”
She released Monique’s mouth as she gasped and slammed her hands on the table. “Yes, Ms. Warner,” she said, reveling in a name like that. Helen must have liked it too, because her fingers dug into Monique flesh and threatened to push up her dress. “I’m ready.”
All it would take was three movements. Move her lingerie, flex those fingers, and thrust forward. At this angle, Helen could pull Monique’s hair as she liked. Even spank her!
“I’m ready too.” Helen released Monique. “Let’s go.”
It wasn’t what she wanted, but Monique knew that’s what she needed. Helen opened the door and led her out. Monique barely had time to lock the door before she had to unlock the one to her chambers, Helen taking a look down the empty hallway before wrapping her hand around the back of Monique’s neck and whispering something into her ear.
“I’ll show you the night of your life.”
Chapter 9
A Long, Coveted Release
"Don't move."
Monique stood in front of her bed, staring at the pattern of her comforter as Helen Warner came up behind her. Hands graced Monique’s hips. She didn't move, as told. Nerves simmered and screamed inside her stomach, her chest, her groin – all because Helen's voice growled every time that head of dark blond hair came closer to destroying Monique's sanity.
"I can't tell if I should call you a princess..." Helen kissed the nape of Monique’s neck, tongue trailing down to her bare shoulder. "Or a queen."
She undid Monique’s hair. Fine locks of chestnut landed on her shoulder and fell toward her breasts. The clip holding it all together dropped to the floor.
"Call me whatever you want, Ms. Warner."
"I like it when you say that." Helen's hands lifted Monique’s breasts, making her cleavage even more ridiculous in that tight dress. Her zipper slowly came undone. "Tonight, you will call me Ms. Warner or ma'am. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I mean it, Monique." Helen’s fingers were like daggers pushing into Monique’s flesh. "Don't disappoint me."
"I would never. Disappointing you would break my heart."
"Neither of us wants that. Now, be silent, and I'll take care of your needs."
Monique shivered for the millionth time that night. Her skin was on fire, her stomach broiling, and her heart fluttering so quickly she thought every breath would be her last. The anticipation would make her come before anything Helen did to her. Yet she said nothing, as told.I love being told not to talk.The real challenge came when her Mistresses told her to be silent during orgasm. She hoped Helen wouldn't do that tonight.Let me be free.
"Stay still." Although gentle, Helen’s voice was still rigid. "I want to explore you."
She sounded like an adventurer when she said that. The type of woman who climbed mountains and tamed wild horses.I'm neither.Monique was a she-wolf queen inviting this stranger into her den for mating. A queen who usually had the reins, but tonight she was turning them over to this stranger.
Helen poked her finger into the dip of Monique’s zipper, tickling the top of her rear. Teeth bit the shawl and pulled it off Monique. It flew across the room and landed on her dresser. The skirt of her dress pulled up over her ass, exposing her black lingerie.
Monique anticipated being told to bend over. Or to feel fingers inside of her, because it was the only way to validate how wet Monique was. Yet Helen did neither. Instead, she wrappedher arms around Monique’s midsection and pressed their hips together.
"Do you want it, my princess?" she asked. "You're not a virginal princess, are you? You can answer that."
"No, Ms. Warner. I'm not a virgin."
"How many people have been inside you?"
"Insideme? Nine."
