Page 68 of Smut Lovers

This is for me and he’s making that clear. He expects nothing other than my consent and pleasure.

Every passing moment earns him another tick of submission.

With my hesitation gone, he snakes and arm down and palms his cock through his pants. When I reach for him, he bats my hands away and shakes his head below me.

“No, little fawn. Focus on yourself,” he mumbles.

“You made a request ear—Fuck, Bear, yes.” He nips at my clit, and my thoughts enter freefall.

He chuckles darkly and does it again, wrenching another gasp from my throat.

That warm tongue was wrought by the magics. Lava flows in my veins and burns hotter with every salacious pass.

I don’t attempt to get to him again, but he unties his pants and pulls himself free.

Girthy and red, his cock strains in his hand like he’s desperate to have it inside of me. He pumps himself, the vein on the side throbbing with each stroke.

Watching him pleasure himself with his mouth on my cunt is too much to handle.

The orgasm bursts from me. My throat utters a harsh groan and my body contracts around him. Quickly, he loosens his hand, his dick so hard I thought he might come from this alone, but he’s stopped himself before it got there.

My body relaxes on him, the flood of pleasure wracking my system and making it hard to remain upright. I lock my elbows straight and curse under my breath as staticky heat floods my core and then echoes out to my limbs.

Bear licks my pussy through it all, his smile so broad I feel it between my legs. His beard scratches against my inner thighs and is covered in my arousal but he doesn’t seem to care in the least.

Because he doesn’t stop with the orgasm.

No, he continues to lick me through it, then picks up the pace and intensity to bring me to a second mind-numbing release.

“No, Bear, I can’t—”

“Yes, ya’ can,” he barely pauses to say.

Pressure builds on the last, a feat I didn’t even know was possible.

My primed cunt surges easily back to the cusp as he charges straight at my second climax.

His arm, still wrapped around my leg, claps down even harder until his face is fully sunken into my core. My back bows from the sustained contraction.

My heart rate sprints to follow his lead, my muscles having a mind of their own as he throws me straight off the cliff again.

Guttural moans escape, but I don’t bother to hold my tongue. I let him know exactly how well he’s doing by letting it out and praising him through panted breaths.

He chuckles beneath me, then grips my sides with both hands and directs me to lie beside him. I crumple onto the bed, fully spent, but he catches my hand and leaves a chaste kiss on my knuckles.

“Which did you prefer, little fawn?” he asks. “The first, where you were too shy to even sit properly, or the second where I made you come until you collapsed?”

“You don’t have to be smug about it.”

“I’ve earned the right to be smug, don’t you think?”

I roll my eyes, not bothering to conceal my true response. This man has had his face in my most private place, so it seems silly to censor myself now.

Bear rolls off the bed and uses his folded shirt to wipe his face. He pivots and goes to the door, and removes the belt he’s left hanging from the hooks with our coats.

“Have I earned your lips around my cock yet?” he asks, humor and pride making his tone light.

I lick my lips at the prospect. His dick is the perfect size for this—nice and thick, and just long enough I’ll be able to take him fully in my mouth and throat.

He chuckles again and points to a spot dead center of the minimal open space in the room. “Stand here, Little Fawn.”

My muscles are liquid, but I roll off the bed and do as he asks.

“Arms at your sides. I’m going to bind them behind your back.”

A stab of worry works its way into my thoughts, but I’m too far gone to really give it credence. I’m a bundle of nerves over what he wants but not whether he’ll hurt me.

Hesitantly, I do as he asks, rolling my shoulders to loosen them and then resting them at my sides.

Rough, calloused hands skim from my fingertips to my shoulders. He digs his thumb into a knot from too much time writing for my tutor this morning.

“Relax, love. I’ve got you,” he murmurs while he kneads the knot loose.

It’s a challenge with the thrill, excitement, and fear of uncertainty pinging around in my system. I’m already hyperaware of him, and overwhelmed by his presence, but force myself to settle and release the tension in my limbs.

Once he’s satisfied, he carefully guides my arms so that my hands grip the opposing forearm near the elbow.

I hold the position, but don’t know why I do it. It’s awkward and certainly not one I’ve ever done during sex.

But something about him brooks no argument. The response is automatic, as if he’s somehow quietly found that control over me and I don’t even realize it.

Bear returns to his coat and withdraws a knife in a sheath. Fear shoots sparks up my spine, but he only uses the blade to prick a new hole at the very end of the leather belt and shucks it into a pocket.

After returning to me, he encircles my torso with the belt around my upper arms.

The metal prong fits perfectly into its new hole. It’s restrictive, but the belt barely digs into my skin. I can still shift my arms even though I can’t separate them.

“I don’t typically use belts,” he begins. “I spend too much time asea. Ropes and knots come more easily. I wasn’t expecting to catch a sweet, helpless fawn tonight, so the belt will have to do for now.”

“You say that as if you expect this to happen again.”

“Oh, it’ll happen again. Mark my words, little fawn. You go trawling for pleasure anywhere in this city, and I’ll be the one there to provide it. No one touches you but me.”

We’ve only known each other for minutes. There’s no reason for that level of possessiveness, and yet it makes my heart stutter in my chest.

He also can’t possibly make that guarantee.

When I don’t respond, he sinks fingers into my hair and grips it at the root. His firm hand yanks my head back. The collective prickle doesn’t hurt, exactly, but it’s strange for him to have this kind of physical control.

Bear leans in as if to kiss me, but his nose skims over my cheek and his beard tickles my face as he passes by my mouth and leans into my neck.

Teeth graze against my skin, and a whimper escapes me. That broad hand holds my chest tight against him while he lavishes my throat with attention. I relent, my head falling back regardless of the hold he still has on my hair.

“I like it when you stop disguising yourself,” he murmurs. “Barricading your emotions behind a wall of passivity is too dull a way to live. When you’re with me, you’ll remove the mask. Understood?”

My teeth clack shut. I won’t promise him that. While everything he’s done so far has been—well, stellar—I can’t discount that I might need to escape at some point.

After all, I’m straining against a belt binding my arms together. It’s not exactly uncomfortable, but it isn’t comfortable either.

He frowns at my silence.

“You dress well,” he comments. “A governess? Lady-in-wait? Someone who must bite her tongue. You don’t do that with me. Save that for the elite bastards directing your life. When I’m the one in command, you’ll give me your honest reaction every time.”

He accentuates the demand with another tug on my hair.

“ Every time , little fawn. I need to know I can trust you to tell me if something is not to your liking.”

I don’t respond, but placate him with a short nod.

He snatches the stiff pillow from the bed and lets it fall to the floor at my feet.

“Good. Now, on your knees.”

Nervous energy ricochets in my chest as my stomach flips in anxious impatience.

Once I’m kneeling in the middle of the floor, Bear stalks around me like a predator might his unwitting prey.

Fingers run over my bare shoulders as he circles, peaking my nipples as a shiver prompts me to close my eyes.

Anticipation shatters logic and I hold my breath with each tense turn until I worry I might pass out. My heart races and I bite my lip hard to reassert mental control. It’s so hard not to lose myself into the abyss of him .

He tugs on the belt to force me to sit on my heels, continuing his route until finally he stops in front of me. He straddles my legs and brings his shaft level.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth,” he informs me. “Shake your head if something hurts. Stay relaxed. You do this for me, to please me, just as I’ve done for you.”

I peer up at him from my knees, his strong body menacing in the dim light. It highlights the indentations in his muscles and spreads shadows across his face like a figment of the magics come to corrupt.

Fuck, yes, do I want to please him.

He cups my chin, his thumb stroking my jaw, and raises an eyebrow.

“So beautiful, aren’t you, looking up at me with those pleading doe eyes. Do you want my cock, little fawn?”

I bite my harder lip and give a small nod.

“Good. Open,” he demands crisply.

I do as I’m told and lean forward, but his hand on my chin stops me.

“Ah, ah,” he chides. “Don’t move. I’m in control, hmm?”

I swallow, but his words stick in my throat.

He’s in control. It’s not that different from earlier, not really.

Opening my mouth, I remain still and wait for him to take what he wants. My arms pull against the belt and I tighten my grip on my forearms, but it’s more to feel the resistance than an attempt to escape.

He has me, on my knees and bound. He could easily overpower me even if the roles were reversed.

His hand on my face is a reminder that he’s in charge.

Bear holds my jaw steady while his cock enters my mouth. I chance closing my lips around him and suck on that hardened length, prompting an appreciative hum.

He’s gentle at first, his thrusts easy and short. I relish his girth and how he reacts every time I toy with him or draw him deeper.

As I relax into his hold, his hand shifts to the back of my head and he adds more force to his movement.