I start to turn and stop. “You might need to untie me, sir,” I whisper, twisting my bound wrists.
He chuckles. “Turn around.”
I do. Because I can’t defy him. It’s like I’m wired to obey every command he gives me. Not out of weakness, but because I trust him with every part of myself.
He makes me feel safe enough to want this. To be who I am with no judgment.
He lifts me by the waist and spins me. His fingers dig into my hips as he positions me above him, reverse cowgirl, my bound hands resting against his stomach. And the final part, he places the hat back on my head.
“There we are, fuckin’ perfect,” he groans.
My mouth drops open as I sink down onto him. The angle is deeper this way, and a scream tears out of me as he thrusts his hips up to meet me.
“That’a fuckin’ girl,” he growls.
I roll my hips in an attempt to set the pace, because I’m so desperate for more. But his hands grip my waist, and he takes over, controlling every movement, lifting me and pulling me back down onto him like I weigh nothing.
“Ride me, pretty girl. Ride me like the filthy little slut you are for me.”
Something explodes inside me. Everything blurs, and all I can focus on is how he makes me feel.
How empowering it is to surrender to a man who would burn the world down if I asked.
His hand grips the back of my neck. The other wraps around my waist. He sits up behind me, pulling my back flush against his chest, his arm a band of muscle across my stomach. I can feel his heartbeat hammering against my spine.
“Let go, Lola,” he mutters against my ear, his teeth grazing the lobe. “Give it to me. All over my dick.”
And I do.
I lose it. My body ignites from the inside out. The climax wrecks through me, the kind that whites out your vision and steals the sound from your throat. My walls clench around him so hard he groans like he’s in pain.
And he doesn’t let up. He fucks me through it. Every thrust pulling another wave out of me until I’m shaking, gasping, unable to form a single word.
“Good girl,” he praises. And then his hips stutter.
He stills beneath me and meets his own release with my name ripped from his throat.
Mine.
I lean back and melt against him. Ignoring the sting on my wrists. The pounding in my ears. The hay scratching my thighs. It’s just me and him.
Gently, he leans me forward and unties the rope. I lift myself off him, and we both hiss at the separation, so I turn to face him, straddling his lap.
He takes my wrist and brings it to his face. Small red marks circle the skin. Nothing major. It’s actually kind of hot.
Those are for him.
He presses his lips against them. A kiss so gentle it’s barely there. “I’ll get some lotion on these when we’re back in the house,” he tells me, his eyes meeting mine.
I nod.
His hand brushes along my cheek and gently tucks my hair behind my ear. “You did amazing, firefly. That was beautiful.”
I look at him through my lashes. Feeling the blush creeping back. “I really liked that, Hunter,” I tell him quietly.
He grins and brings his lips to hover just above mine. “Don’t be embarrassed to ask for more from me, baby. Whatever you want to explore, I’ve got you.”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing, sir,” I whisper.