sure how to convince him. Reese knows he’s attractive because he’s been pretty his whole life, but Corinne still reminds him. It’s important to her. Making him believe it.
Once, years ago, her parents had given her a five-thousand-piece puzzle that had been nothing but black with a single crimson cherry in one corner. It took her the entire Christmas break to finish the puzzle, hours spent searching through the identical pieces to create the picture—until at last, at the end, she’d been able to fit that red cherry into the final, empty space.
In her life, Reese is the cherry.
They found their way to each other and managed to discover the rarity of two people whose darkest desires aligned. They don’t talk much about the things they do that set them apart from other couples. For Corinne, Reese’s innate desire to serve and please her came not as a surprise, but as a relief. He doesn’t call her a bossy bitch or promise to give her whatever she wants, so long as whatever she wants is what he feels like giving her. She asks. He provides. It makes the sex smoking hot and kinky as fuck.
It’s work too. If he’s going to trust her to make the best decisions for him, she has to be willing and able to do that. It’s a big responsibility that has nothing to do with fucking. Some days, Corinne is overwhelmed with the honor of her boy’s belief in her; that she will always know best. It has made her realize how selfish she’s been in the past. How much being with him has changed her.
When she pulls the sheet entirely off him, he stirs. His cock thickens, growing against his thigh so the head nudges his belly. Sometimes she wakes him by sliding up his body to straddle his face, letting her pussy tickle his lips until he moves, hungry and feasting on her. Today, though, seeing his cock rising awakens a different desire inside her.
Corinne moves onto the bed between Reese’s legs, letting her hands run up the insides of his thighs to push them apart. His muffled gasp of surprise make her giggle against his skin as she runs her tongue along his secret inner flesh. He writhes, hips thrusting automatically, but her murmured command stills him.
She loses herself in his scent and warmth and the way his muscles tense and release beneath the tracing tip of her tongue. When she adds a light scratch of her fingernails, he writhes again. This time, she sits up.
Her nails dig deep, pinching tender flesh. This only makes him arch harder, into the pain. Not away from it. This is where Corinne finds her pleasure. Not solely in the causing of agony, but in knowing that she’s turning him on.
“I told you to stay still.”
“Sorry…”
She decreases the pressure of her fingernails in his skin, then runs the tips of her fingers over the marks she left. Reese shudders. Kneeling between his legs, Corinne pushes his thighs apart, wider and back so his knees bend. Reese makes a noise of protest, shifting to look at her with pleading eyes but an open mouth, lips glistening from his tongue.
“No?” she asks calmly, though her voice dips lower, rasping. “I was thinking of getting ready for work. I could just go do that—”
“No!” His gaze catches hers for a second before his head falls back against the pillows. His hands fist on the bottom sheet.
He opens himself to her.
Fuck, that’s it. Right there . His obedience, especially with that tiniest hint of reluctance, totally flips her switch. She shakes inside with it, that power over him.
Her fingertips tickle him. She watches the muscles in his belly leap. Watches him swallow, hard, as his head tips back, exposing the line of his throat to her. His chest hitches with a half-strangled breath. When she pushes his knees back farther, exposing more of him to her, Reese lets out another small, muttered noise, this time not of protest but of utter, complete acquiescence.
Corinne bends back to loving him with her mouth and tongue and the press of her teeth on the marks
Once, years ago, her parents had given her a five-thousand-piece puzzle that had been nothing but black with a single crimson cherry in one corner. It took her the entire Christmas break to finish the puzzle, hours spent searching through the identical pieces to create the picture—until at last, at the end, she’d been able to fit that red cherry into the final, empty space.
In her life, Reese is the cherry.
They found their way to each other and managed to discover the rarity of two people whose darkest desires aligned. They don’t talk much about the things they do that set them apart from other couples. For Corinne, Reese’s innate desire to serve and please her came not as a surprise, but as a relief. He doesn’t call her a bossy bitch or promise to give her whatever she wants, so long as whatever she wants is what he feels like giving her. She asks. He provides. It makes the sex smoking hot and kinky as fuck.
It’s work too. If he’s going to trust her to make the best decisions for him, she has to be willing and able to do that. It’s a big responsibility that has nothing to do with fucking. Some days, Corinne is overwhelmed with the honor of her boy’s belief in her; that she will always know best. It has made her realize how selfish she’s been in the past. How much being with him has changed her.
When she pulls the sheet entirely off him, he stirs. His cock thickens, growing against his thigh so the head nudges his belly. Sometimes she wakes him by sliding up his body to straddle his face, letting her pussy tickle his lips until he moves, hungry and feasting on her. Today, though, seeing his cock rising awakens a different desire inside her.
Corinne moves onto the bed between Reese’s legs, letting her hands run up the insides of his thighs to push them apart. His muffled gasp of surprise make her giggle against his skin as she runs her tongue along his secret inner flesh. He writhes, hips thrusting automatically, but her murmured command stills him.
She loses herself in his scent and warmth and the way his muscles tense and release beneath the tracing tip of her tongue. When she adds a light scratch of her fingernails, he writhes again. This time, she sits up.
Her nails dig deep, pinching tender flesh. This only makes him arch harder, into the pain. Not away from it. This is where Corinne finds her pleasure. Not solely in the causing of agony, but in knowing that she’s turning him on.
“I told you to stay still.”
“Sorry…”
She decreases the pressure of her fingernails in his skin, then runs the tips of her fingers over the marks she left. Reese shudders. Kneeling between his legs, Corinne pushes his thighs apart, wider and back so his knees bend. Reese makes a noise of protest, shifting to look at her with pleading eyes but an open mouth, lips glistening from his tongue.
“No?” she asks calmly, though her voice dips lower, rasping. “I was thinking of getting ready for work. I could just go do that—”
“No!” His gaze catches hers for a second before his head falls back against the pillows. His hands fist on the bottom sheet.
He opens himself to her.
Fuck, that’s it. Right there . His obedience, especially with that tiniest hint of reluctance, totally flips her switch. She shakes inside with it, that power over him.
Her fingertips tickle him. She watches the muscles in his belly leap. Watches him swallow, hard, as his head tips back, exposing the line of his throat to her. His chest hitches with a half-strangled breath. When she pushes his knees back farther, exposing more of him to her, Reese lets out another small, muttered noise, this time not of protest but of utter, complete acquiescence.
Corinne bends back to loving him with her mouth and tongue and the press of her teeth on the marks
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