Hostile Takeover by Hill, W (best novels to read for students .TXT) 📕

around that rim, teasing the ultra-sensitive center, which contracted under the pressure, welcoming him in. But he taunted her with it, kept his tongue on the outside, tickling and stroking that ring of nerves. His fingers tightened just enough on her abused buttocks, making her flinch and convulse at once. Yes. More pain, more pleasure. She could take it all from him.

She tried her best to stay still, to be a good girl, but it really wasn’t her nature. She wanted to wiggle against his face, rub and squirm. She wanted that tongue. Those powerful fingers dug in, a warning, hard enough that a true lance of pain went through those broken areas.

“Keep still, or I’ll stop.” He spoke against her flesh. That combined threat and command stilled her more effectively than any physical pain.

But oh God, it was intense. She bit into the mat, her fingernails digging into the foam as that agile tongue made small circles among the tiny creases of her anus, touched that center point again and again. He put pressure there several times, making her think he was going to penetrate, but then he’d withdraw. Her whimpers became pleading cries. Her pussy was convulsing, warning her the very friction of the air could make her orgasm, his very proximity enough to push her over the edge.

“You won’t come.” Reading her body so well, he spoke sternly.

She nodded frantically, agreeing, though she had no idea how she could stop herself. He made her helpless. She knew he exulted in it, that this was his drug, making her every action and reaction a mindless, instinctive response to him.

His tongue pushed slowly inside that opening, going deep, moving, swirling, teasing, and she came apart. She didn’t come, but it was more intense than any climax she’d given herself. She screamed into the mat, her nails puncturing the foam and taking chunks out of it. Her thighs trembled, her toes curling hard as she struggled to stay still. His fingers bit into those welts, and the mixed sensations were so overwhelming she thought she might black out. She fought to stay in this moment forever.

He withdrew, then penetrated again, fucking her ass with his tongue. When it became too much, he would tease and play on the outside, then thrust back in again. Every time it was more overwhelming than the last. She knew there were other people in the house, but she couldn’t stop making those wailing, crazed shrieks.

When he pulled back at last, sat on his heels, she was holding on to that cliff edge with every tense, quivering muscle. Those strong hands curled around her upper arms, lifted her onto her knees, turned her toward him. “Look at me, Marcie.”

His eyes were green fire, the flickering candles making love to the planes of his strong face. “Arms boxed at the small of your back, ass on your heels.”

She complied immediately. He took a seat on the stool, caging her between his thighs and the massage table. Taking her shoulders, he slid her closer with an effortless move that kept her in the same position. “Close your eyes.”

Oh the hell with that. She wanted to see, wanted to see him. But he wasn’t going to do anything else unless she obeyed. She shut them, swallowing back the petulant protest that came to her lips.

“Behave, little slut.” When she was in her teens, he’d called her brat, and now she heard a similar note of affection, though it had a new element to it, one that made hope bloom in her heart.

She heard him opening the slacks, adjusting himself, imagined his cock stretching out hard and thick so close to her face. She smelled him, heated skin, aroused male. She wondered if pre-cum was glistening on the slit. He wasn’t covering himself, because she didn’t detect the latex smell, hadn’t heard the crinkle of a foil package. Once she was old enough for Cass to answer her more brazen questions about Ben, she’d told Marcie how adamant he was about wearing protection with his club subs, and even then it was always ass fucking or blowjobs with them—if he allowed them to touch him at all.

The fact he was going bareback now said that he was sure he was clean and wanted to feel her lips on his skin. It didn’t matter how irritated Ben might get with her, or the volatile quicksand she was walking to get him to be her Master; she knew he would never risk harming her for the pleasure of the moment.

Though that wasn’t wishful thinking, her hope that she was the first to touch her mouth to his cock without that thin barrier probably was. But she’d let herself have that fantasy. Especially since he was about to grant one of her deepest wishes.

Her lips parted, tongue darting out as the broad head touched them. He withdrew before she could taste. “Keep them closed,” he ordered in that firm, no-arguments-tolerated voice. She did, making small needy noises in her throat as he came close again, pressed velvet flesh against her sealed mouth. He painted that pre-cum along her lips, making her want to lick them so badly it was almost an involuntary reflex.

“All right now. Part them, but you wait for me to push forward. No reaching, no movement of your mouth except for how my cock stretches it. All movement comes from me, understand?”

“Yes, Master.” She did it deliberately or instinctively, she didn’t care. Would he let her get away with it? As he continued to hold himself from her, her heart twinged in disappointment. She relented. “Yes sir.”

He punished her by making her wait another full minute. When that rigid cock finally pressed against her lips, demanding entry, she let out a mental sigh of joy and relief. An emotion that turned to alarm and incredulity. Holy God. She knew, of course she knew, because she’d heard about it in bits and pieces and touched him through his clothes, but