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I moan, my body desperately trying to claim what it wants. “I do.” My voice sounds so far away. In a way, I do feel far away, looking into Ira’s eyes as if she’s from another planet. I want to go there! “I’m so sorry for disobeying you, Mistress. Please let me come.”

“Then what?”

“Then fuck me. Please.”

She sits back, fingers still in me, but showing me her prosthetic coming out of her pants – which are quickly discarded to the ground as well. Seeing her completely naked always makes me wet. She has a physique that makes you think of a model. No, not the super buff kind, but the kind who look so damn good they can model anything they want and get paid well for it. Her chest, her shoulders, her biceps, her back, her abs, her thighs… they’re so proportional and strong that I almost ignore her prosthetic still covered in my arousal from earlier.

“Then come, Katie.”

She thrusts her fingers back into me, curling them enough to make my core sing.

Instead, I do.

Her other hand grabs my breast, pinching my nipple while I begin to come. All I hear is my voice; all I see is her gaze. I can’t blink. I can’t look away. Ira has me so enthralled that I will lie here and ride out this orgasm while the one who regularly devours me looks like she’s about to do it again.

I can’t breathe. I can’t move my legs. All I can do is climax and cover my Domme’s hand in my apology.

She removes her fingers at the right moment. Because, for the first time in a long while, I squirt, relief washing over me as I cover my skin and the duvet beneath.

I mean, I’m not a porn star, despite my best jokes. Yet Ira grins, sampling a taste.

“It’s sweet,” she says. Her tongue feels like hell on my spent pussy. She gives my clit one cursory flick of the tongue before pulling her torso up and kissing my breast, my neck, my lips. “You’ve been a good girl, Katie. I think it’s time you were forgiven.”

At this point my brain is so far gone that I don’t care anymore. All I can do is whimper as she enters me, her hips pushing my legs farther apart even though they’re already that way.

Even so, she feels blessedly present inside of me. We’re together. She’s going to claim me once and for all.

“Ira…” I can’t recognize myself. The way I feel, the thoughts I’m having, everything in between… they are not Kathleen Allen’s.

She’s not here. Katie’s here. The woman Ira Mathison is taking as her sub.

“Ira… Mistress… thank you.”

She’s not moving inside of me. Instead, she props her arms up on either side of my head, easing in and out as she tests how ready I am for her. Oh, I’m ready. “Do you like this, Katie?”

My eyes roll back as my head hits the pillow. All four of my limbs are sore to the point I’m not sure I’ll be able to move later. But I don’t care. The only thing I care about is her weight on me, the potential energy in her hips getting ready to thrust up and deeper into me.

“I do.” I savor the moment. Right now, I don’t feel anything. Nothing but lust and desire. Nothing but comfort and protection. This is kinky, but it’s also our way of making love.

Fuck me and that L word.

I don’t care. Good God, I don’t care! Maybe I love her. At the very least, I love this. I love moments like this, where it’s her and me. Maybe I’m chained up. Maybe I’m obsessed with what she’s doing to me. Maybe I’m dreaming of doing things like this to her in the future.

Who cares?

Ira kisses my throat, buried within me. This angle is almost painful, but in the best way I could have ever imagined. Who cares! She’s rocking into me. She’s kissing me. She’s so comfortable that I can’t imagine it being anyone but her.

She’s the only one I could possibly let do this to me.

That’s how good it feels. That’s how much I want her inside of me, consuming me, making love to my body, my heart, my soul… every time she thrusts forward, I feel it inside. Nothing in my body rejects her. I know what’s going to happen, and I’m so happy about it that I think… well, of course, this is what’s going to happen.

Of course, she’s going to fuck me like this. Of course, she’s only interested in my body.

She may be a Domme, but I now know every inch of her soul. It’s expressed to me like an open book. A will to take care of me. To shield me from the horrors of the world. To give me pleasure and not ask for that much in return, really. I don’t have to think. I don’t have to worry. Ira will take care of everything.

“Katie,” she whispers into my ear, arms curled around my body, hips thrusting into my spread opening. Ira increases her speed, grunting every so often. Sometimes harder. Sometimes faster. Always needy. “Katie!”

“Ira…”