Control.
Give him control.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, squeezing it tightly at the base as I moved to a squatting position. My legs open and apart—purposefully. I placed my free hand on the side of his lower stomach for balance before I used my tongue to circle the tip first. My breathing caught when his abdominal muscles tightened beneath my hand, twitching again when I eagerly leaned back in and circled the tip of his cock for a second time.
“Avery…” he growled, the rumble in his voice so deep and gravely that a rush of goosebumps washed over my entire body at the warning.
The brat in me was desperate to do it again, knowing the level of pleasure his punishments brought me—but the last thing Shotgun needed right now was me fucking with him and pushing him to places that I wasn’t sure he would cope with being right now.
Maybe this was why neither of us ever sought out anyone else because we knew the other understood what we wanted, what we needed.
The way we fucked was different.
There were some dom and sub elements to it—though neither of us was looking to label it that way—that I wasn’t sure we even expected when we started fucking. It was something we’d learned together, something that had come naturally between us outside the bedroom with him being the president and me being the club whore, who pushed his patience and rules to doing the same when we fucked.
Sucking his cock into my mouth finally, he cursed.
“Fuck, Avery,” he hissed through his teeth as I drew back before sucking it deep again, pausing for a few seconds to fight the urge to gag. “Yes. Good girl.”
It spurred me on, taking his length as deep as I could go for as long as possible. Licking, sucking, tasting as he gently pushed his hips forward, forcing it a little deeper, pushing me a little further than I would usually push myself.
This was one of my favorite things about Shotgun. It was like he knew my body. How far I could go but wouldn’t without going with him, and I trusted him to take me there.
He suddenly stepped back, leaving me gasping and my legs going slightly numb. He offered his hand, and I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet, catching me around the waist when my legs wobbled slightly. His touch was something I didn’t ever want to imagine being without.
But you need to be prepared to lose.
It was demanding, but at the same time, the hard harshness that swirled around him made me suddenly feel so bare.
His lips brushed my neck as he began to walk me backward, through the bathroom door, and into the bedroom.
Both of us were dripping wet, leaving water dripping across the carpet until my knees touched the bed, “Please,” I pleaded—just barely because I was so fucking turned on—his mouth hovering above mine as he held me in place.
Throwing me off balance and sending me tumbling backward into the soft pillowy duvet, Shotgun stood over me, watching on with a smirk, his eyes caressing my body and curves.
My instant reaction was to cover myself, but he launched forward and caught my hands before they could reach for my breasts. Cupping my wrists in one of his large hands, he leaned over me and pressed them to the table above my head. I twisted them, testing the strength of his hold, but I couldn’t escape. He held me tightly enough to restrict any movement but not so tight that it hurt.
His eyes sparkled. “Love fucking seeing you like this, but there’s something missing.” He let me go and sauntered back into the bathroom for a brief second. I watched cautiously as his muscles clenched tightly when he moved, his tattoos on proud display. I was so mesmerized that I didn’t notice he was holding something in his hand, running the thick brown material through his fist.
His belt.
My eyes widened as I watched him twirl it around before settling himself back in between my legs, his hard cock standing at attention.
“Shotgun…” I whispered, unsure of exactly what to think of this new addition.
“You ready for this?” he asked, wrapping the belt around his hand and then unwinding it again.
I wiggled, digging myself deeper into the cloudlike duvet, not because it made me nervous, though, but because I found myself becoming more excited, my pussy so wet I could actually feel it on my thighs. I nodded. “Yes.”
His eyes burned with appreciation. “Give me your hands,” he ordered.
Slowly I held my hands out in front of me, surrendering myself to him, trusting him.
He wrapped the belt around my wrists as tightly as was still comfortable and did up the buckle. Then he moved around the side of the bed, tugging it hard and making me shuffle up toward the headboard so he could wrap it around the wooden spandrels. He pulled it tight and gave it a sharp tug, making me gasp. A smirk touched his lips, and with his free hand, he grasped his cock, running up and down it a few times as he eyed my naked form.
My hips wiggled of their own accord, desperate to have his touch finally on me.
I frowned in annoyance, and he chuckled lightly. “Needy.”
I tugged again with my hands as he returned to the foot of the bed, running his tongue across his lips as he crawled toward me. The predatory look in his eyes had my breath catching. I jerked when he settled between my legs, and the head of his cock brushed just lightly against my clit. The first time it could have been accidental, but then as it continued over and over again driving me fucking crazy, I knew it was him torturing me.
I lifted my hips, grinding against him as he swiped up and down then dipped just inside me. It wasn’t enough to ease any of the tension I was feeling, so I growled in agitation.
“Good girl,” he murmured, leaning over me, his breath tickling my ear.
“Please,” I replied instantly, biting my lip to keep from moaning as he rewarded me instantly by sinking all the way inside me. I threw my head back, the fullness stealing my breath and making my back arch off the bed. It didn’t last long though, as he settled there, but instead of pulling out again, he moved his hips, pressing his cock in different directions, stretching me. “Dammit,” I cursed softly.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out and thrusting back in, harder this time. Once the momentum started, I knew it was going to be hard for him to stop. His teeth attacked my neck, one small bite after another he trailed them down to my collarbone.
I linked my fingers together, squeezing them tightly as his tongue found my nipple, swirling and flicking it as harsh breaths escaped his nose. Even as he rose off me, I held my hands in place, exposing my body to his lust-filled gaze as he grabbed my thighs in his hands and his hips pumped harder.
My back arched off the bed again as he drove deeper, not letting up, not being gentle for me. But I didn’t want gentle, I wanted him. I wanted him to feel like he had what he needed, that I was giving him what he needed.
His belt rubbed at my wrists but not painfully. With just enough bite to add a little whisp of pain to the pleasure, I could feel building to something amazing heating my body, electrifying it to a point where I thought actual sparks may start to fly around us. His eyes held mine. They were so intense. It was like he wanted to consume me, like he wanted to own me, and if that’s what he wanted, I would hand myself over to him time and time again.
“Don’t come yet,” he murmured, dipping his mouth to my ear and slowing down his thrusts.
There was that control.
My body was aching, twitching, dying for release, but he was going to fucking torture it out of me.