Page 36 of Scars of Silk

“Take it slow.” Her eyes flutter shut, and it’s as though she’s giving herself over to me. She gave me her wishes. First to fuck her. Second to take it slow. The rest of it is up to me. She’s submitting to me.

A burning desire ripples through every cell of my body. This beautiful woman is handing herself over to me on a plate. Locking the memory of her crying into the back of my mind—just for now—I determine to give her what she needs. What she’s craving. Maybe I’ll find what I need by giving it to her.

“Lift your arms.” I watch as she does what I ask, my dick straining against my jeans as she holds her arms in the air. Now I’m not a Dom, hell no, more of a shove it in and thrust until I come; but seeing her compliant and eager is the biggest turn on I’ve ever had. I lift her top, pulling it up over her breasts and lacy bra. Once her top is on the floor, I trail my index finger along the edge of her bra, mesmerised by the pucker of her flesh and the small gasp that escapes her lips. Lowering my mouth, I suck a nipple through the sheer material, pressing at the bud with the flat of my tongue. Another sigh, this time louder, longer. Her hands are still above her head, thrusting her pert tits right into my face. Straightening up, I turn her and undo the clasp and then reach up and hook it over her still suspended hands, before then brushing my lips across the smooth skin of her back. It’s perfection. Not one mark, no sign of ink, just a smattering of freckles across a creamy smooth canvas. I inhale deeply, filling my senses with perfume and skin. Her skirt fastens at the back which works well for me, I slide it down her hips until she's stood just in her heels and a pair of sheer black panties. Her pert butt cheeks are round like apples, curving down into those wondrous thighs. Has this woman really been living in my house for days and I haven’t been taking advantage of it? I must be an idiot.

She shivers slightly. Her body now exposed to the cool air of the room. I know she must be expecting me to turn her around and to take my fill, so instead, using some serious self-control, I walk back to the chair and throw myself down. She can’t see me, but she knows I’m gone. A small moan fills the air.

“Turn around.”

She does, her face split between desire and nerves. That damn lip between her teeth. With a steady gaze, I rake my eyes over her, watching her legs press together slightly as I travel over the front of her panties.

“Why don’t you think you’re beautiful?”

Her responding glare is fierce, but the squeeze of her thighs assures me she isn’t that upset. “Because I don’t.”

“That’s not an answer. Turn around so I can see again.” She does, slowly. I’m going to come in my boxers.

Shit.

When she’s done a full three-sixty I repeat my question. “Why don’t you think you’re beautiful?”

“I’m not that kind of woman.”

I frown. Does she not look in the mirror?

“What kind of woman are you?”

There’s a flicker in her eyes and her arms almost lower, but then she reins herself in and holds them straighter, pushing those perfect tits in my direction. “Come here.”

She walks over, her arms lowering. Swiftly, I unzip my jeans and push them down.

I don’t know what she wants me to do or how far this little role play will go. This is unchartered territory.

When she’s in front of me, her nipples standing to attention, I reach my hand and slide it around the side of her knickers. She’s wet, warm and soft. It’s my turn to groan. I’d love to taste it, flick my tongue in those depths and hear her cry my name.

I snap at the band of her underwear, pulling it off, a ripping sound filling the air. My gaze is focused, watching her face, her green eyes darkening. When I push at my boxers, my hard-on springs free, standing to attention, desperate to sink into her. Her gaze drops, and she licks her lips.

Without a word, I anchor my hand onto her hip and guide her over my lap until her legs straddle either side of my thigh. Then with both hands applying pressure, I push her down until I’m slotted deep within her. Jesus fucking Christ. She groans, her head lolling back. Still using my hands, I circle her hips, around and around. All the while she pushes harder down until I’m deep within her, right up to the hilt.

The wave of a deep desire builds, burning hot. My dick pulses, threatening to unload already. She’s so warm. Her walls cinching round me, hard and soft all at the same time. Sliding a hand between us, I rub at her swollen clit with the flat of three fingers. She grinds harder, moaning as she circles her arms around my neck. Her breath comes in short, hot waves against my skin. Everything about her is hot and dense, and I want to burrow myself so deep in her I won’t see tomorrow.

I’m stuck on the chair, my injuries too much to make any sudden movement. I want to sweep her into my arms and chuck her on the bed and slam myself into her. But I can’t, so instead, I keep pushing my fingers against her heat and let her grind herself to oblivion on my lap. She’s lost, her head thrown back, her lips parted, as small pants fill the air. Each little moan makes me thrust my hips up higher into her. She’s pushing down so deep it must hurt. She just keeps moaning and pushing, moaning and pushing. Higher and higher, the little noises become more and more, and I have to hold on to all my control. She arches back, her tits bouncing right in front of me.

“Oh,” she clings on, straightening up. “Oh, oh.”

I smile, slow and steady and then lift my hands to her shoulders pushing her down with every single shred of strength I have left. Her eyes fly open and she almost screams as the impact of force and her orgasm collide. I spill over the edge after her, spurting my load deep inside.

We cling together, her breathing mingling with every gasp. “Holy fuck.” I clutch her closer. “You are something else.” I kiss her neck. Her chin. Then finally her mouth. My tongue drives in slow and I remember my need to have it thrust deep inside her—soon. We’ve got all night.

She meets my eyes, calm and assured.

“I think you just blew my mind.” I can’t keep my words in. She’s undone me.

She smiles and runs her hand down my face. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, what? That you forced me into a hotel room and made me have sex with you?”

She dips her head and buries it into my neck, but I pull her back, brushing her hair out of her face.