Reginald Bones 3
“I just need to get something clear before we begin,” she said, holding up a hand. The gesture was assertive but her tone implored with him.
“What’s that?” he asked, leaning back in the chair, clasping his hands behind his head.
“Whatever I do with you… is… like a job to me.”
He stared at her, giving in to the smile. “Okay,” he said easily.
“And you get to ask me a question and I get to ask one?” she checked.
“Well… technically, you owe me an answer to a question. I gave you a clue last.”
She slowly cocked her jaw right in obvious calculation. It made him grin. She didn’t hide things. He liked that. “About that clue. It was pretty sucky if you think about it.”
“It was a clue. Clues aren’t answers, they’re pieces of answers.”
“Lord,” she realized. “This could take a long time.”
“It could. You have to ask clever questions.”
“But I didn’t ask a question for that clue.”
He spread both arms out. “I was generous.” He lowered his gaze, his desire heating up in his blood. “The robe.”
She reached for the tie. “Can I… have an idea of what we’ll do?”
He raised his gaze. “No.”
She seemed to fight worry as she licked her lips and nodded. “It’s a job,” she muttered, more to herself.
“Just a job,” he agreed, watching the slow tug of the robe tie. She opened it and slid it over her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.
Heat hammered his blood as he angled his head, taking her every, delicious curve in. “You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
He watched her full breasts rise and fall beneath hard nipples. “No need to flatter.”
He pierced her with his gaze. “I don’t lie. Don’t ever imply it again. Pretty Winter,” he added, soothing the bite of his scold.
“H-how do you want me to answer you?”
Answer him? She thought he was one of those. But he’d not taken a woman in that way while working. That could impress the wrong thing on Bones and Reginald, and might end disastrous. But Pretty Winter… she was already the explosion of their every neuron, the heat in their cock, blood, and bones. “You’ll call me X when it feels really good. And when it feels wrong… and terrifying… you’ll call me Executioner.”
He eyed her reaction, making careful notes as he plotted his course with her. She would make the ultimate submissive, giving all for Bones. How far would she go for him?
“Executioner,” she half asked, casting a furtive glance at him. “Is… there a safe word?”
He got up and came to stand just before her, his eyes locked on her lowered face. “Do you need a safe word?” Her nipples just below drew his attention. He captured her right breast in one hand and squeezed slowly until the tip pushed out, tight and hard.
“Do I?” she gasped, winded.
“I think you do.” She’d said ‘this is just a job’. But Pretty Winter was dead wrong. What he was going to do, how he’d do it, when, where, why—those were X factors. And she’d not calculated them.
He reached with his thumb and stroked the very tip of her nipple, recording her responses. She was fighting. He wondered why she would and if she really thought she could? She needed to know that when she was with him, he owned her body. He owned its every untouched, unexplored, lascivious desire.
How long would it take before she was begging? He needed those answers more than any of the others he’d had planned. Now, she held her eyes shut tight with her pretty slim brows drawn together in her war against his touch. X scraped his nail softly and her strained breaths came faster. “How does it feel Pretty Winter? Right here.” He flicked faster. “On your hard nipple?”
He squeezed her mound in answer to the fever boiling his blood. The need to do profane things with her growled in his chest as he opened his mouth in unison with hers, tasting the volatile sex brewing in the air. She continued to challenge him, straining back moans that would beg him for more.
“Is your pussy wet, Pretty Winter?”
Even though she burned up before him, she still fought. “Yes.” The confession wrenched from her before she called him by the name, “X.”
His jaw and fingers tightened at the fiery way she said it. “You’re fighting it,” he whispered, flicking faster. “I think you need to learn to give me what I want, when I want it. Close your legs tight and touch your clit, like I’m doing here.” He slowly circled the base of her nipple. “Tell me when you’re obeying me.” He angled his head, watching her hand lower between her legs.
“I’m—doing it,” she strained.
He saw that she matched his touch. “Such a good girl, Pretty Winter.” He petted the very tip of her nipple then lowered, sucking it into his mouth. He rolled his tongue around it and groaned, scraping the sides of the erect peak with his teeth while tonguing the tip. He lifted his head, putting his mouth right at her erratic gasps. “Slide your finger inside your hot silk.”
Their breaths clashed and he grunted when he heard the sounds. “Your pussy is creamy. I can hear it. And now you’ve gotten my cock impossibly hard, naughty Winter. Taste your pussy.” The order shook with his need to break all over her as she did what he commanded. “That’s it, lick all of it.” He reached between her legs and slid his finger along her slippery slit. “I hear it in your moans. You want what’s coming even if you don’t know what that is.”
He dipped his finger inside her. He’d meant to just wet it but her hot silk devoured his mind as illicit demands gripped his body. He shoved his finger now, hard and deep, grunting as he added another. He remained at her mouth, his lusty breaths ragged and greedy as he gorged himself on her every shocked moan.
The way she called his name again, blew off another door in that hidden dungeon inside him. But when she clutched his forearm then shoulder, her nails biting into his muscle, that was it. She’d undone his final restraint and hunger blasted in, more ravenous and greedy than ever. He hammer-fucked her with his fingers now, every drive lifting her off the floor as he fought to mark the deepest part of her.
“Don’t come!” he growled, clenching his eyes and grunting on the throbbing agony in his cock. He suddenly slowed his pace, the muscles in his arm lit with the fire that torched the rest of him.
Winded, he withdrew his fingers and slowly slid them over her parted mouth. Smelling her there, a second wave of insanity hit and he clutched her jaw in a biting hold, devouring her smeared juices at a crazed pace. He grabbed a handful of her hair and clenched hard, kiss-fucking her with his tongue as he walked her in reverse to the nearest wall. She hit with a thud and their breaths blasted as he plowed his mouth over her jaw and neck, sucking, biting, filling his hands with her breasts. He devoured her nipples next, growls and groans pouring from him as he fed on her like an animal, fed until he was down before her, on his knees.
He forced her legs onto his shoulders and stormed her pussy with an obscene hunger, digging his fingers into her ass as he stood, sliding her up the wall.
“Executioner!” she gasped, holding on to his head tightly as he bit and sucked, her sharp screams and clawing making him crazier. Pretty fucking Winter. Naughty fucking Winter. Feed my animal, raise him from the dead.
“I’m coming, oh God, I can’t—”
He released her ass and she free-fell down the wall just before he caught her with his leg and hands. “You can’t come,” he gushed, kissing all over her supple lips. “Not fucking yet.”