Read Online How to Punish Your Playboy (DommeNation #3) by Mina Vaughn - Free Book Online
Authors: Mina Vaughn
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Mistress,” he whispered into my mouth. The words finally sounded right. Mistress. That was me. Not a front I was faking, or a name I hadn’t earned. I was in charge of his pleasure and his pain. I was, for the first time, Mistress. I gave him a long stroke and a squeeze.
“Please what?” I felt his mouth smile beneath mine.
By now, his hands were bold enough to be wrapped around my back, easing their way to my zipper. “Please . . . take control,” he responded. “I want to tear your dress off, push you onto those cushions, and pull you down on top of me. But that’s not how this sort of thing works, is it?” he asked, chest heaving with ragged breaths.
“No, it’s not how this works, but I think we can incorporate some of those ideas.”
I wrapped my hand around my back, covered his wrist with my fingers, and coaxed him to slide my zipper down. The cap sleeves of the dress loosened, and I yanked and shimmied free of the garment in a matter of seconds. He stared at me with both desire and hesitation—I could tell he wanted to be the one sliding the dress from my body. But I was in control, and he knew it.
“Touch me,” I commanded, and his hands moved to my shoulders. His fingers were soft and firm, with the right amount of roughness a man’s hands should have. I worried my Dirty Playboy would have the skin of a pampered prince, but luckily he must have put some hard work in somewhere. His fingers spread and he inched his hands down my chest, palming my breasts and sliding underneath, cupping me. He exhaled loudly. I toyed with the waistband of his boxers, occasionally sliding one hand in, but quickly pulling it back out, teasing. The sunset had bathed the room in the colors of sherbet, glinting on our naked skin with the most lovely blush. I needed to see more, and I wasn’t going to be shy about it anymore. Or ever again.
“There, on the cushions. Strip and kneel.”
He nodded and turned away from me. He had a positively perfect ass. Perfect for watching, perfect for spanking. He winked. There was that arrogance, but I forgave him quickly. He was too delicious. I wrapped my arm around him and gave his long, hard cock a stroke. My fingers could barely fit around it, it was so thick. I grinned and stood back.
“Knees slightly parted. Hands behind your back,” I said, and he complied, squaring his broad shoulders and settling into place. I stood above him, his face level with my navel. “Kiss,” I said, and he nuzzled my stomach and grazed a few kisses down it. I hooked a leg over his shoulder, steadied my arm on the anchor, and looked down at him. His eyes met mine and he opened his mouth for another kiss, right where I wanted it. I groaned, feeling his intimate kiss deepen, his tongue sliding into me effortlessly. I grabbed his head and stroked his bangs, pressing his face deeper between my legs. “Good boy,” I moaned. He pulled away for a moment, looked up at me with those dangerous eyes, and then took a long lick, teasing me.
Despite his skill, I needed more. Now. Gone was the Veronika who hesitated or second-guessed everything.
I unhooked my leg from his shoulder and stood with my ankles at his thighs and bent low, grazing my breasts across his face. A nipple scooted by his wet mouth and he licked, trying to catch it. I let his kiss linger a moment but the desire between my legs was too much to bear. I pushed down onto him in one swift move.
“Oh god, Mistress,” he groaned. His hands trembled behind him, and I knew he was dying to put his arms around me, but I could manage without his leverage. I steadied myself with my hands on his shoulders and pumped up and down. He felt so good, rock hard and twitching beneath me. I watched him lean back, thrusting his hips slightly, giving me a ride while I was still the one driving. Just enough friction, enough pushback. He was exactly what I needed. My fingers tightened on his shoulders and we both leaned back a bit, intensifying the angle,
“Please what?” I felt his mouth smile beneath mine.
By now, his hands were bold enough to be wrapped around my back, easing their way to my zipper. “Please . . . take control,” he responded. “I want to tear your dress off, push you onto those cushions, and pull you down on top of me. But that’s not how this sort of thing works, is it?” he asked, chest heaving with ragged breaths.
“No, it’s not how this works, but I think we can incorporate some of those ideas.”
I wrapped my hand around my back, covered his wrist with my fingers, and coaxed him to slide my zipper down. The cap sleeves of the dress loosened, and I yanked and shimmied free of the garment in a matter of seconds. He stared at me with both desire and hesitation—I could tell he wanted to be the one sliding the dress from my body. But I was in control, and he knew it.
“Touch me,” I commanded, and his hands moved to my shoulders. His fingers were soft and firm, with the right amount of roughness a man’s hands should have. I worried my Dirty Playboy would have the skin of a pampered prince, but luckily he must have put some hard work in somewhere. His fingers spread and he inched his hands down my chest, palming my breasts and sliding underneath, cupping me. He exhaled loudly. I toyed with the waistband of his boxers, occasionally sliding one hand in, but quickly pulling it back out, teasing. The sunset had bathed the room in the colors of sherbet, glinting on our naked skin with the most lovely blush. I needed to see more, and I wasn’t going to be shy about it anymore. Or ever again.
“There, on the cushions. Strip and kneel.”
He nodded and turned away from me. He had a positively perfect ass. Perfect for watching, perfect for spanking. He winked. There was that arrogance, but I forgave him quickly. He was too delicious. I wrapped my arm around him and gave his long, hard cock a stroke. My fingers could barely fit around it, it was so thick. I grinned and stood back.
“Knees slightly parted. Hands behind your back,” I said, and he complied, squaring his broad shoulders and settling into place. I stood above him, his face level with my navel. “Kiss,” I said, and he nuzzled my stomach and grazed a few kisses down it. I hooked a leg over his shoulder, steadied my arm on the anchor, and looked down at him. His eyes met mine and he opened his mouth for another kiss, right where I wanted it. I groaned, feeling his intimate kiss deepen, his tongue sliding into me effortlessly. I grabbed his head and stroked his bangs, pressing his face deeper between my legs. “Good boy,” I moaned. He pulled away for a moment, looked up at me with those dangerous eyes, and then took a long lick, teasing me.
Despite his skill, I needed more. Now. Gone was the Veronika who hesitated or second-guessed everything.
I unhooked my leg from his shoulder and stood with my ankles at his thighs and bent low, grazing my breasts across his face. A nipple scooted by his wet mouth and he licked, trying to catch it. I let his kiss linger a moment but the desire between my legs was too much to bear. I pushed down onto him in one swift move.
“Oh god, Mistress,” he groaned. His hands trembled behind him, and I knew he was dying to put his arms around me, but I could manage without his leverage. I steadied myself with my hands on his shoulders and pumped up and down. He felt so good, rock hard and twitching beneath me. I watched him lean back, thrusting his hips slightly, giving me a ride while I was still the one driving. Just enough friction, enough pushback. He was exactly what I needed. My fingers tightened on his shoulders and we both leaned back a bit, intensifying the angle,
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