“Palms to the headboard and open your legs, Kathryn.”

Oh God.

I did as told, but I’d only hesitated because of the surge of sensation I knew it would cause, obeying his command, and I didn’t want to come too soon, doing it simply obeying the first command he gave me.

But as I moved, I felt my body start humming, my already wet sex drenching, my eyelids drifting closed, and I bit my lip hard so the feelings wouldn’t overwhelm me.

“Fuck, baby,” Boone growled, and I knew he didn’t miss a lick of that.

He then glided a single finger between my legs, he did it slow, insanely slow, and God, that felt great.

I trembled before him.

“Knees up, baby, spread wide for me, and don’t move your hands,” Boone ordered.

I complied.

Boone shifted.

Then he went in, going down on me.

Ohmigod.

Oh my GodGodGod.

He ate pussy like he was born to do it.

A master.

My Master, staking claim with his mouth.

Fucking beautiful.

But doing it, he drove me so high so fast, I was squirming under him, struggling to hold back my orgasm, and whimpering, “Boone.”

He disconnected his mouth from my clit and demanded, “Stay still.”

I looked down my body and saw him in position, head back, eyes locked on me, and the visual was so good, I had to clench my sex hard in order not to come.

“Honey,” I breathed, still squirming.

He drove two fingers inside me and repeated, “Stay still.”

I tensed every inch of my body, but I’ll admit, it wasn’t because he told me to. It was because I wanted to focus on his fingers deep inside.

I got to do that since he then started finger fucking me and eating me at the same time.

Okay.

God.

Okay.

God.

When I could take no more, I begged, “Boone, baby.”

He lifted up, slid his fingers out, put his hands through my legs to the outsides of my hips, and he glided my nightie that was bunched at my waist up over my tits.

Then he sat back on his knees and his eyes roamed over me.

This was something I liked, being exposed like this to a partner.

This was something I now loved, Boone exposing me to him, the hunger flashing in his green eyes, making them spark like emeralds catching light. The greedy look on his gorgeous face.

God, I needed him to fuck me.

I knew better than to ask, because if I did, depending on the Dom he was, getting it might be prolonged or completely withdrawn.

I found that I made the right choice.

He shoved his shorts under his dick and balls, and I now had visible proof he was not only significantly endowed, his cock was a thing of beauty.

Oh yeah.

He caught it in his hand and that was an even bigger thing of beauty.

Then he moved forward, found me with the tip, put his hands behind my raised-high knees, spread them even wider, exposing me further to him, opening me to him, taking command of my body…

And he drove into me.

My back arched to the ceiling; my head dug into the pillows.

“Watch me fuck you, Kathryn,” he rumbled, fucking me.

Oh yes.

Fucking me hard.

I tipped my head to watch and it was too much. All of him, that beautiful body, the muscles bunched and flexing in his strapping arms, hands holding my legs wide, the definition of his abs rippling as he thrust his cock into me, the veins popping out from his groin up his stomach.

He was so damned beautiful it was impossible to watch him take me, at the same time taking him, and not lose control over my climax.

“Don’t come,” he commanded.

“Baby,” I pleaded.

He pounded in, ground in, and kept his hands behind my knees even as he leaned his upper body closer to me.

“Do not fuckin’ come, Kathryn.”

Okay, why was it so goddamned hot that he only called me by my full name when he was domming me?

“I’ll try,” I panted.

He went back to fucking me, watching me take him, my body jolting with each pound, my palms pushing hard against the headboard so he didn’t drive me into it.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful when you get fucked,” he grunted.

“You’re beautiful when you’re fucking,” I whispered.

His expression grew greedier, dark…hot, and he fucked me harder.

He watched my tits bounce, and I held on, he watched his cock plunge between my legs, and by some miracle, I held on.

Then his eyes came to mine.

“Come, baby,” he said gently.

I came instantly, pressing back on my hands, driving into his thrusts, crying out softly, an explosion of pure, blissful goodness I let loose, hiding nothing, giving it all to my lover, because it was his due.

And he’d definitely earned it.

Even with how huge that was, I had to keep my arms tensed to hold me steady so he didn’t bang me into the headboard when my orgasm took its time drifting from me.

When I focused on his face, he was super focused on mine, it was super-hot how focused he was on me, and he whispered, “My sweet little fuck.”

Oh hell to the yeah.

He was a dirty-talking Dom.

Suddenly, he swung my legs around his ass, lowered his still thrusting body to mine, put one hand in the bed, the other he drove up under the hair at the back of my head. He gripped it, put his opened mouth to mine, and pounded his orgasm into me as he groaned down my throat.

Oh fuck yes to the hell yeah.

When his climax started leaving him, he began kissing me, gliding in and out, before he seated himself inside and shoved his face in my neck.

“You can put your arms around me now, Ryn,” he said there, then touched his tongue to my skin.

I shivered under him and didn’t delay in wrapping him tight.

And I liked how he communicated our mini-scene was done.

I was again Ryn.

Communication was important between all partners, but for those like us, it was integral to the experience, verbally, physically. Most importantly, it was about him reading what he needed to read from me. And most importantly for me, it was about me trusting he could read it, and him communicating where we were at.

Pre-scene, definitely during scene, and also post-scene.

I loved this indication he had that part down for us.

His mouth came to my ear and there he said quietly, “Pussy’s so sweet, baby, prepare. I’m gonna be eating you a lot.”

I shivered again.

“Okay, Boone.”

He nipped my earlobe.

A reward.

And I shivered yet again.

He ran his mouth around the front of my throat, up my jaw, to my lips, but he didn’t kiss me.

He looked into my eyes, I looked into his, liking the sated contentment I saw there, as he said against my lips, “Love the way you take a solid fucking.”

Yeah.

A dirty-talker.

How did I get so lucky?

“I aim to please,” I mumbled.

I watched his eyes smile as I felt the same against my lips.

Then he said, “You’re gonna be takin’ that a lot too, sweetheart.”

“No complaints here.”

He chuckled.

Then he kissed me.

This wasn’t hard.

But it was wet and deep.

And sweet.

He ended it and pulled out, dipped to kiss my collarbone and then lifted his head over mine again and said, “Clean you up, then breakfast.”