Cherise Sinclair - The Dom’s Dungeon

“No, little sub.” He took his hands off her, and she whimpered. “You will do it.” He waited.

Her body felt stiff as she turned to face him and knelt between his legs. The swollen folds between her legs throbbed, and the wetness there chilled in the breeze. With shaking fingers, she undid his belt, then his slacks. No underwear. Released, his cock bobbed out, a heavy, thick weapon that men used—

“MacKensie.” His hand tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Moonlight fell across his stern jaw. His eyes were dark with shadows but level, not crazy with lust. “Go at your own pace, not mine.”

She bit her lip, and his thumb rubbed her chin. He didn't grab her hips and try to shove himself into… His fingers brushed over her clit, and she gasped, fire bursting within her again. She looked at his cock again. “If I put it in, and you get off, then you'll let me finish?”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. He sighed and touched a finger to her chin. “Yes, sweetheart. If you put it in, then it will be my pleasure to give you a mind-blowing orgasm.”

She shuddered as her pussy clenched. “All right.” She could do this. She'd done it so many times before, even if unwilling. But Alex wasn't a john, hadn't given her money, didn't want anything. She moved up to straddle him and eased down until his cock pressed against her opening.

Pushing, ramming, hurting. Her chest tightened until she couldn't breathe. Her ears rang, and she tried to jump off. “Red! Red, red, red—”

Powerful hands closed on her arms. “MacKensie, look at me.”

She blinked, then focused on him.

He smiled slightly, and he released her, settling his hands back behind his head. Where they had been when she lost it. His voice held the same gentleness she used with frightened pets. “I'm not touching you, sweetheart. I want you, but at your speed. You can quit anytime.”

“Uh.” The only one touching anybody was her, and she was definitely touching him—her fingernails were embedded in his shoulders. She pulled her hands away. “Sorry.”

“Hang on to me all you want.”

She sighed, all too aware of how her pussy hovered above his cock. Honestly, MacKensie, you gave yourself a panic attack. He hadn't done a thing. She shook herself mentally. Frak me, but I'll be damned if I live in fear.

She gritted her teeth, and—before she could chicken out—she grabbed his cock and slammed herself down on it. “Aaah!” It felt like she'd jammed a boot inside her. Her hands clamped onto his shoulders as she shuddered at the shock.

He chuckled, the bastard, and slid his hands up and down her arms. “Never do things in a half-assed fashion, do you, little sub?”

Her breath slid out and back in as the painful fullness eased. Some. He had a damned big cock. “Now what?” she asked as if she'd never ridden a man's cock before. Her legs quivered when she tried to lift.

“What do you want to do?” he asked as if they were having a conversation, not in the middle of having sex. He didn't yank at her or try to move her. He just lay there, waiting for her. As he'd promised.

“Um.”

As she dithered, his hands left her arms to stroke up and down her bare thighs, going a little higher each time, until his thumbs almost grazed her center. Her vagina clenched, and oh, it felt…awesome. Having him inside her made every sensation more intense, like using fluorescent markers instead of crayons. She flattened her hands on his chest for balance and lifted up just a fraction. Frak, but the feeling of him sliding inside her was almost as wonderful as when he touched her clit.

She glanced up at him, knowing she must look a sweaty, awful sight, but he was smiling at her in an odd way. Like…like when a child had burst into the office to show off her starred report card and her mother had smiled in just that way. Tender. Proud.

Her breath hitched, and for some strange reason, her eyes burned.

He never moved. Just waited.

She blinked, breathed, gathered her scattered thoughts. Sex. We're having sex here, MacKensie. Get with the program. Holding her breath, she daringly rose up farther, then eased back. How could a vagina that had never felt anything before suddenly be so excruciatingly sensitive? Up, down. Her clit throbbed, and everything around his cock started to throb too. Up, down. Faster.

Their joining made squishy sounds, sounds she'd always thought were gross, flesh on flesh. Now even the sounds were exciting. Alex was inside her.

She increased the pace, and her need increased. But nothing quite worked. Her climax seemed just out of reach. She whimpered in frustration. “I don't know how…”

“Let me help, sweetheart.” And rather than pounding into her like she had expected, he moved just his hand. His fingers slid to the juncture of their bodies, and the next time she came down, he stroked her pussy. Her whole body went rigid. She groaned and went up and down again, and his finger slid across her clit, pressing against it. The sensations from inside her expanded, joined with those from her clit, and suddenly she screamed as everything, everything inside her burst, spasming through her in heart-stopping pleasure so brilliant, the moon faded.

She barely moved, and another wave crashed through her. And another. Her heart had somehow lodged high in her chest, pounding so intensely, it hurt.

Finally she dropped down onto him, a quivering mess, still jerking with the aftershocks. “I… God…” she managed to whisper, feeling as if the world had edged sideways, as if reality itself had changed.

When his arms came around her, she almost cried at the sense of being anchored. He stroked her hair and murmured, “That had to be one of the bravest things I've ever seen, little vet. I'm proud of you.”

It came again, that fuzzy feeling inside just from his words and his deep voice. She rubbed her cheek against him. He was proud of her.

So was she, come to think of it. I had sex. Real sex with a man.

A few minutes later, a cramp in her legs caught her by surprise. She started to move…and froze. He was still inside her and still completely erect. What have I done? She sat up quickly and moaned at the amazing sensation as her weight drove him deeper inside her. “Oh frak, I'm sorry. Sorry. You didn't get off, and I did. I'm sorry.”

A long sigh. “MacKensie, much as men don't like to share this fact, we rarely die from not getting off.”

“But…”

He looked up at her, a little exasperated, a little amused. Not a trace of anger, although she could feel the way his cock pulsed inside her.

“Don't you want to?” she whispered. He didn't want her? The sense of rejection grayed some of her elation.

Those hard hands closed on her arms again. “Little sub, I would be more than delighted to roll you over and take you, here and now. But not if you aren't ready.”

She frowned. He'd been inside her for…for a long time. Her johns had usually erupted within minutes, if not seconds. “Couldn't you…? Why didn't you…come before? Before I did?”

He chuckled. “That would defeat the purpose, now wouldn't it? And I didn't want anything to divert you. Little cat, don't worry a—”

“Then take me,” she said recklessly. So many others had. How could she deny this one person who actually cared about her? Who'd given her a real, actual orgasm. Her insides still quivered. “However you want.”

He cupped her cheek. “Sugar, I… You do realize that I would have to move to get off?”

Do I realize? If he only knew. The laugh that rose into her chest felt almost hysterical, and she smothered it. Grunting and sloppy, heaving and pushing, battering at her… Her hands tightened on his shirt. “I realize. Do it.”

He studied her again, and she tried to hide how her mind kept screaming, No no no. “All right, then,” he said. “I think perhaps we'd best get this behind us, or you'll keep worrying about it.” His hands rubbed her legs, and she could feel the way her muscles shook. “I would have preferred you on top”—when he grinned, the lack of lust in his face, the humor in his eyes, relieved her immensely—“but your legs aren't going to hold you up, are they?”

And just like that, he pushed her off him, his cock leaving her body, leaving her empty. “Uhhh.” The sound was almost a whine and had come from her. But she didn't have time to think before he'd slid her down onto the blanket and on her back. Such a vulnerable position, she realized as he loomed over her. Her hands fisted.

I can do this. No retreat, no surrender.

He hadn't planned to go this far yet, but she'd mustered her courage, and to throw her gesture away would be wrong. Alex frowned at how her little hands had fisted. Perhaps a diversion would give her something else to concentrate on. Her fear of men appeared separate from her enjoyment of being dominated. “MacKensie, give me your wrists.”

With a quizzical look, she complied. He pulled the Velcro cuffs from under the log, shook the sand off, and fastened them to her wrists.

“Alex?” She moved her arms. Her eyes widened when the chains attached to the cuffs erupted from the sand.

Smiling, he grasped her waist and slid her down the blanket until the chains pulled her arms over her head.

“I didn't say you could do this,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Little sub, I didn't ask.” When he attached cuffs to her ankles and took up the slack in the chains running to the stakes hidden in the sand, she watched him with big eyes. He ran a finger under each of the cuffs to ensure her circulation wasn't compromised, then sat back on his heels and enjoyed the sight of his restrained submissive.