Fortune by Annabel Joseph (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📕

down to massage her shoulders. “You’re my good girl,” he whispered in her ear. “You’re making me so happy. This feels so good, taking you in the ass. I’ve wanted this so badly.” Again he inched forward with slow, deliberate care. “I love you like this, so horny and nasty. My nasty little sex toy. My little doll.” He felt it, the instant she stopped fighting it and let her muscles relax. “Oh, yes…yes…you’re so good.” He slid deeper, grasping for control. She was so hot, so tight. The frantic, desperate noises she was making brought the animal inside him to life. He took her waist and slid in her to the hilt. She moaned as he drew out nearly all the way only to sink inside her again. Her hands struggled against the ropes and her hips twitched, fighting his control the only way she could. His feet kept hers spread. He leaned down, close against her, feeling her heat, her erotic electricity. He snaked a hand down her front and slid his fingers into her pussy, fingering her clit.

“What did I say earlier?” he asked hoarsely. “What did I say you could do with my cock in your ass?”

“Come! You said I could come.”

She was arching her hips forward against his fingers, seeking the stimulation. Each jerk and arch launched an almost unbearable cascade of pleasure from his cock down into his balls and taint. “Yes…yes…” he said, thrusting deep, stroking her clit and then pinching it so she bucked even harder. “Come for me. Come with my cock in your ass.”

She was nearly sobbing. He understood perfectly how she felt—his own arousal was reaching the breaking point. “Come, damn you. Come now. Come for me, you gorgeous little anal slut.”

With a cry and gasp she let go, gave herself up to the carnal decadence, to the brute insistence of his possession. Her back arched. Her ass squeezed him and set off white-hot pulses of pleasure that exploded out of him and into her. He held her hands, pressing to her. Even bound, she managed to scratch the back of his palm in the throes of her uncontrolled ecstasy.

It was awhile before he untied her. For a long time he just lay over her back, nuzzling her neck and shoulders, whispering, “Good girl.”

Chapter Nine

It was an unseasonably warm day for early February. Still cold, but warm enough. Kat and Ryan were at her parents’ home to celebrate her twin nephews’ seventh birthday and the weather was so temperate they moved the party outside so the children could run around and play. Later they would need to leave to pick up Ryan’s friends from the airport, a childhood pal and his wife with their young child. Kat was excited and a little nervous about meeting them since the guy, Dave, was Ryan’s best friend. What if he didn’t like her? And they were a Dom/sub couple too, Ryan told her. That freaked her out, but kind of fascinated her also. She wondered how other couples like them interacted on a day-to-day basis. So far, she’d just been stumbling along with Ryan’s guidance. She had no idea if she was anything approaching a “good sub”.

But for now they were awash in wrapping paper, punch and presents. The brothers-in-law milled around the barbecue, drinking beer and turning brats and kielbasa. They were speaking English for once in deference to Ryan. Kat watched, bemused, as her unflappable Dominant tried to blend in and act casual. Processed meats horrified him. She knew she’d have to listen to a diatribe about the evils of kielbasa all the way to Logan Airport.

While the men manned the grill, Elena circulated making sure everyone was having fun. Dmitri had long since retired with a headache. Children’s parties were never his thing.

Kat sat on the other side of the patio with her sisters. They were like feudal festivals, these family gatherings, with the women and men separated. But it always happened because the men liked to talk men stuff and the women liked to gossip the way women did. Before, Kat used to drift somewhere in between, on the outskirts, feeling detached and unwelcome in either group. Not that anyone had actually excluded her… She just hadn’t felt anything in common with them. Now her sisters huddled around her talking babies and husbands and work woes while Kat stared at Ryan and daydreamed about the night before.

He’d tied her up—again—the most intricate shibari yet. It had taken nearly an hour, not that she’d been keeping track. Watching his fingers, feeling the rope slide across her skin, waiting for his intent gaze to fall on her before it returned to the work at hand… All those sensory experiences had grown comfortable and familiar to her and were more than enough to keep her occupied and not bored.

He’d tied her on her back with her knees drawn up slightly, her wrists clasped to her front. He hadn’t even bothered with the collar—she felt submissive and restricted enough by the confining design. He had used yards and yards of hemp rope drawn from his copious supply. By the time he was finished, every part of her was trussed into a neat, secure package. The front of her had been an intricate web of beautiful macrame, and the back an ingenious crisscrossing design. His fingers were so beautiful, so deft as he worked. She’d thought, at the end, that he was like some kind of spider spinning a web around her, ensnaring her.

She was truly caught.

One of her sisters, Irina, nudged her. “Katyusha, you’re staring. I can’t say I blame you,” she added with a smirk. The other women emitted low teasing sounds of agreement.

Kat blushed and turned away, pretending innocence. “I’m just wondering when the kielbasa will be done.”

Olga made a suggestive comment in Russian about hot sausage, which sent the entire group into gales of laughter. Ryan looked over at them and Kat waved