Page 99 of Twisted Proposal

"I like the way you claim me. I don't want to, but I do. Every time you touch me, every time you threaten to punish me, I get hot and wet and—" The words kept coming, spilling from my lips.

He shouldn't have known any of this. It should have felt like I was losing something, but it didn't. It felt like I was just telling him what he already knew.

Of course, he knew. He was behind me, and I was naked, on my knees, with my back arched. He could see everything.

"Keep telling me what you like," he said again. The bed shifted behind me and his breath was warm against my most sensitive skin.

I opened my eyes to see him, still fully dressed, lying on his back under me.

"I like how it feels when you kiss me," I admitted.

He looked up at me, his gray eyes intense as he smirked at me.

Then he grabbed my hips and pulled me down to his lips, my thighs spreading, stretching as he slowly stroked my clit with his tongue.

"Oh god," I cried as he pulled me down further, locking my hips in place, his hand like an iron bar on my back.

"Keep talking," he said against my clit. Even the vibrations of his voice sent another wave of ecstasy crashing over me.

"I like when you already have everything set. Everyone bows to your will. You don't have to tell people you're in charge, they just know," I said.

His assault on my clit became ravenous, as he slid two fingers deep in my pussy, another just brushing against my other hole.

"I get wet whenever you make demands of me, even though I hate it," I gasped as the pressure in my core built. I focused on trying to suppress that pressure. If I came, he won. "I hate how you control me, but I also want you because you do."

He let out a low groan against my clit and pressed the two fingers inside me directly against my G-spot, intensifying the pressure.

Looking over my shoulder, I could see his hard cock sticking out of his pants. The hand that wasn't on my back was gripping his cock, squeezing at the base. He liked this. Maybe that was how I won. Maybe I could break him before he broke me.

"After you left last night, I touched myself. I came on my fingers while I thought about how it felt to have your cock sliding against my tongue, and how fucking hot it was when you fucked my face."

He groaned again, and I gave a little extra as I ground my hips down on his face, adding to the delicious pleasure.

"I made myself come over and over thinking about how you just bent me over the sofa and took me. How even when you're angry with me, you still make me come, and I wanted more. I made myself come thinking about you touching me, teasing me, punishing me."

He groaned again, and I knew his iron control was cracking, but so was I.

I had touched myself last night thinking about him.

I was sore and pissed, but also so painfully aroused.

He made me come hard with his cock in my ass but just remembering it wasn't the same.

I needed to feel his body against mine, like I had in his bed.

Or I needed him to fuck me so thoroughly I came apart on his cock over and over.

"I fantasized about you checking my grades and then forcing me to do my coursework naked, bent over your desk while you spanked me for every wrong answer, and slid your cock further inside me for every right one." Every dirty thought I had about him came spilling from my lips, and I wouldn't have stopped speaking even if I could.

"More," he growled. He was getting closer to breaking.

"I thought about every argument we have had, or almost had, or could have, and how they all ended with us fucking."

"Did you get punished every time?" he asked as he took a breath, then slid his fingers out of me and replaced them with his tongue. The sensation wasn't as strong, but it was still intense, and I arched my back a little further. His wet fingers reached up between my breasts.

"No, sometimes I won the fight, and I was rewarded. You would spread me out on your desk and lick me, pushing me into coming over and over as an apology before you fucked me," I said before wrapping my lips around his fingers and sucking.

Tasting myself on his fingers was incredibly erotic, the spicy warmth that was all him mixing with the sweet tanginess that was all me.