Page 116 of Pucking Them
I am glad that D’Angelo is trained in this.
More serious than a wedding…?
I feel like I am already married to D’Angelo.
For Shay, whose response to trauma makes him believe that he is still on the outside of our relationship, to become closer than a wedding through a collaring, would be his dream come true.
Mine too.
“Let’s do it,” I whisper.
I am shaking with excitement.
D’Angelo’s eyes are just as bright. “I love you, cara mia. Is it terrible to admit that I may — in fact one hundred percent have — already designed a discrete, one-off collar for my cucciolo?”
I wrap my arms around D’Angelo’s neck, hiding my laugh in his neck. “Of course you have. Let me guess. Did you start designing it on the first or second date?”
“Probably best I don’t confess just how obsessed I am. The dom needs to at least be able to pretend that they’re unfeeling and cold.”
“Master Fire and Ice, you’ve just melted.”
“Have I?” D’Angelo’s voice becomes frosty.
Ieep, as he drops his arms to my waist and swings me to straddle his lap. Then he firmly pushes up my t-shirt, before pressing against my clit with his thumb like a challenge.
Our gazes meet.
“Anything to say?” I hear the warning beneath the question.
I ignore it.
I may be Shay’s Mistress but I am still D’Angelo’s brat.
“You’re comfy.” I bounce on his knee, taking him by surprise.
I laugh at the shocked expression on his face.
Then D’Angelo shocks me by sliding his hand underneath my ass and pressing one finger into my pussy.
I gasp at the sudden burst of pleasure, as he rhythmically pushes in and out, before curling his finger, all while looking at me like he isn’t fucking me on his hand.
“Anything to say now?” He repeats, coolly. “I asked you a question.”
I shake my head.
He adds a second finger, while using his other hand to circle over my clit. I whine, gripping hard onto his shoulders.
“Use your words.” He works me harder.
Sweat runs down the back of my neck.
Pleasure is cresting through me, forced on me, too fast and hard.
Perfect.
“N-n-nothing.” I blush.
Suddenly, D’Angelo’s hands still, and I clutch harder onto his shoulders.
