Page 38 of His Toy

“It’s whatever you want it to be, sir.”

My cock twitched at those words. An obedient, compliant woman, a woman I wanted to fuck every which way, who desperately wanted to please. But the use of ‘sir’ may have been to comply with our agreement. She was that loyal.

I flipped her around by the shoulders, making her face me, my hands still clutching her.

“Your choice here will not affect our agreement,” I said. I let go of her, letting us be equals. “Do you want this, Heather?”

She searched me. “Yes, Zaid. I do want this.”

I turned her back around, and she immediately got into position again, her ass out. The fabric on her ass rose, exposing the bottom of her cheeks. I swung a hand down on her, hard, the dress still protecting her. But the old bruises would make it hurt.

“You want this, toy?” I asked. She wiggled her ass, pressing it into me, and groaned. Fuck. She never made a sound like that during training, full of yearning, primal as hell, a woman in fucking heat. This woman could mess with me, make me into an animal whoneededto have its prey. “You want to be used and spanked and fucked and made to come, my little toy?”

Her voice was breathy. “Please, sir,” she said.

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me,” she moaned. “Your little toy, sir.”

I quickly found the zipper and ripped her out of the dress and panties. That dress didn’t allow for a bra, and I was grateful. Her bare legs, the heels still holding her up, that tuft of hair on her pussy. She was fucking flawless.

“Inspect.”

I circled her, admiring my toy. Her rounded ass, those supple curves of her hips, her soft belly, her hanging breasts, the brown hair cascading around her shoulders like a damn waterfall. Her blue-green eyes that could stop a man in his tracks.

But I needed to keep my distance. We had a goal. Our agreement, our relationship wasn’t about us. And while I knew I could ignore that for a moment, I still had rules. Boundaries. Codes I needed to maintain.

Ask for consent. Only fuck your slaves.

But I knew she wanted it. Her eyes, her hips, the way she cooed. Her words. She wanted to fuck me. And I wanted to fuck her too.

“I don’t fuck the women I’m training,” I said coldly, almost to remind myself. “I only fuck my slaves. You are not a slave. You’re a toy. That’s your luck.”

It was her luck that I needed to keep my distance. It would keep her safe. And I was lucky to have her, but she didn’t need to know that. I stood behind her, enjoying the contact of her bare ass on my pants. My clothing prevented us from touching.

I needed my rules. Heather wasn’t my slave. For now.

With both hands, I reached around, feeling her mound, that pussy that had the power to make a man quake, letting my hands reach her slit. Damn it, she was already wet, ready and eager for me. I slid my finger through the opening, barely letting my fingertip part her lips.

“But you want me, don’t you? You want my cock inside of your sweet pussy.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

I sucked the juices off of my finger. Her desire tasted so fucking good.

I rubbed her clit, achingly slow, rubbing my thumb in circles, using her moisture, gliding along the surface. She sucked in a breath; she was giving in. I slid a finger inside of her, and she clenched around me, squeezing me tight. I growled. She wasn’t making this distance easy.

I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to feel her squeeze my cock with that wet pussy.

But not now.

I worked her, massaging her insides until I could hear her breathing quicken. “That’s a good toy,” I whispered. Her wet slit felt like paradise in my fingers. My cock would feel like heaven stretching her out. “My good toy.”

Mygood toy.

My head stirred; she wasn’t mine. Not now. Not ever. But my cock twitched against her, and her knees started shaking, and I forgot to keep that distance.

“That’s it,” I said. “You will ask for permission, toy. You will beg me to come.”