Chapter 218 - HUSH MY DARLING

Amirah spread her fingers on the bonnet of Max's BMW. She was on her tiptoes, panting, an ȯrġȧsm ripping through her.

Max yanked her hair, dragging her head back as his ċȯċk buried deep. "Fuck yeah!"

She bit on her bottom lip, holding in the yells of pŀėȧsurė. Garage walls could only muffle so much noise. But then again, the neighbours were lucky she and Max had made it that far, the drive back from Giovanni's had been excruciating in the best kind of way.

"You're such a fuċkɨnġ ċȯċk tease," Max gasped, picking up the pace.

Amirah closed her eyes. Telling her lover midway through their lobster main course that she wasn't wearing knickers had clearly been the right thing to do on their six month anniversary.

He released her hair, gripped her hɨps and thrust to a wild tempo, sliding her up the car further. His ċȯċk was steely, his movements frantic.

He was coming.

She delighted in his guttural groans and the way he lost control in those few seconds of bliss. He took the lead during fuċkɨnġ and it was always hot and sėxy. She adored it. She adored him.

"I'll never get enough… of coming inside you," he said, slowing. "So wet and tight."

"And you're so big and hard." She giggled.

He released her and quickly pulled her to standing. Her dress slid part way down her hɨps.

"You made me so hard for you and I couldn't do anything about it," he murmured against her cheek.

"You just did." She stroked his short hair back from his perspiring brow.

"I had to wait an hour. It hurt."

"Aww, poor Max." She pouted at him. "But really, that tease was nothing."

"Nothing?" A glint of curiosity seared over his eyes.

"No," she murmured. "You really want to be teased? I can give you that and more." An image was forming in her mind. Max, nȧkėd, gagged, bound, his erection throbbing for attention and him not being able to do anything about it. Instead of frantically tipping her over his car and fuċkɨnġ her hard and fast, she'd be in control.

She'd have him at her mercy. She'd be lord and conqueror of when and where and how he came. It was time he submitted to her for a change. Let her be the ringleader, crack the whip so to speak.

"What is it?" He tipped his head, studying her.

"We're not going out on Saturday, right?"

"No, nothing planned."

"Good, meet me at Juniper's loft. I have the key to water the plants. She said I can use the place if I want to." She pressed her finger to his lips. "But that's all you need to know, big boy."

He laughed. "Come on, tell me."

"No, you're not going to wheedle anything else out of me. Saturday is mine."

"What do you mean?"

She was enjoying his confusion. They'd been together long enough to be comfortable, but there were still things to learn. Treats to discover and dėsɨrės to explore.

"Just be there," she said. "At five. And don't overdo it at the gym, you'll need your energy."

Amirah spent Saturday in a state of arousal. The anticipation of seeing Max and knowing what she was going to do to him had her pussƴ dampening and her nɨppŀės poking at her lacy bra. It got so bad after lunch she flopped onto her bed with her vibrator and thrashed out a quick climax. If she hadn't she'd have gone insane.

But now she was at the loft. She'd put her own sheets on the huge bed, and ensured the white linen curtains were drawn. After she'd shaved her pussƴ, she applied a squirt of Poison, Max's favourite scent of hers, and slipped into silky grey undėrwėȧr—not that she planned on wearing it for long.

The doorbell went.

Her stomach rolled with longing. But she had no intention of rushing this. She was going to take her time, have fun, have lots of ȯrġȧsms, and use her beautiful boyfriend as if he were a toy.

She was damn sure he'd love every moment of it.

Slipping into high black heels, she sauntered to the door and pulled it open.

His eyes widened. "Amirah."

"Shh." She held her finger to her mouth and shook her head. "No talking, Max. Not unless I tell you to."

He pressed his lips together; it appeared to take some effort.

"Now." She stepped back. "Go to the bedroom and take everything off, except your boxers, that's my job."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, then stepped into the loft.

He was so tall and broad, his muscles bulged against his tight t-shirt and his jeans hugged his strong thɨġhs. She'd be no match for him physically, she knew that, but she hoped he'd play the game. Submit to her and accept her as the one running the show—their very ėrȯtɨċ, provocative show.

She ogled his arse as he made his way to the brightly lit bedroom. Then standing in the doorway, hands on her hɨps, she watched him strip off.

Every inch of his skin, as it was revealed, made her mouth water and heat form between her legs. She could just jump on him, fuċk, demand he take her in his usual frantic, passionate way.

But no. Today was about something else. This was him doing as he was told, by her.

With his clothes piled on the floor, Max climbed on the bed. He sat, with his back to the headboard, and set his attention on her.

Swaying her hɨps, she sauntered over to him, aware of her brėȧsts shifting with each step. Fuck he was gorgeous. She was going to have so much fun.

His gaze slipped down the length of her body and he licked his lips. "Amirah, I…"

"If you speak again without permission you won't get any of this." She used her best dominatrix voice and cupped her brėȧsts.

Again he appeared to struggle to keep words in, his lips flattening.

"Good boy," she said. "Now keep quiet and keep still, I have plans for you." She kicked away her heels then crawled up the bed, between his legs.

And then she pulled back, smiling when she saw the ŀust flashing in his eyes. She didn't have long to get him bound and gagged. This man of hers had a ravenous appetite for sėx, and right now, he looked starving.

Straddling him, she reached for a roll of black tape she'd stashed beneath the pillow.

She applied a thick strip over his mouth. His eyes didn't leave hers, it was almost defiant, his gaze.

She loved it. He was on the edge. Tolerating her whims… for now.

A sense of determination came over her. He'd be at her mercy, as she'd planned. Cupping his face she kissed him over the tape.

Then, as a tease, she tugged up her bra and clutched his hands to her brėȧsts. Soon he wouldn't be free to do that so she'd let him have a moment. Plus it felt so good to have his big warm palms cupping her tɨts.

She relished his touch for a few sweet seconds, then she clasped each of his wrists, and pushed his arms back in a sharp movement, one each side of his head.

He made a surprised noise behind the tape.

"Don't talk," she warned, holding his arms spread-eagled.

Quickly she reached for the tape again. She harnessed his wrists together, binding them tightly. He wasn't getting out of it easily.

Which was just what she'd planned.

She pushed his arms over his head and stripped off her bra. He twitched, this would normally be a point he'd grab her and let his passion run loose. Would he obey her?

Rubbing her brėȧsts over his face, she spoke. "You cannot kiss me. You cannot touch me. But I can do whatever I want with you." Just the words gave her power and she rolled her hɨps on his groin, her heart rate quickening.

Now she'd show him what a ċȯċk tease really was.

She turned, still between his legs, and stuck her arse in the air. Hollowing her spine she gave him a full-on view of her thong-clad buŧŧ cheeks.

He ġrȯȧnėd.

She smiled, ŀust coiling in her belly. "Does this make you horny?" she asked huskily as she rolled her hɨps, jutting toward him and away. She didn't need an answer; she knew damn well he adored her arse. Touching it. Kissing it. Fucking it.

As she moved she caught his erection with her pussƴ, massaging it through their undėrwėȧr. He was at full hardness. Words weren't necessary to know he was enjoying the ŀėwd show of her gyrating backside.

"What do you want me to do with you?" She turned to face him again, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder. "Ah, you can't tell me."

He grunted, a deep primitive sound.

Her smile broadened. This was fun.

She ran her hands down his ċhėst, catching his skin with her fingernails. Did the same to his thɨġhs, his calves, then glanced her touch over his swollen ċȯċk.

He mȯȧnėd but didn't move. He stayed exactly where she'd positioned him, though she knew he'd be battling not to break free and fuċk her.

Knowing he was exerting that control and fighting to maintain it, gave Amirah a satisfied thrill that made her pussƴ wetter for him.

She kissed the tape covering his mouth, then trailed her lips downward. The need to taste him was growing fast.

Drawing on her own willpower, she made her way down his body, ŀɨċkɨnġ, kissing, and finally reached his ċȯċk. She stroked it. "Do I make you hard?"

His nostrils flared as he dragged in a breath.

His erection was burning hot against his boxers. Teasingly slow, Amirah used her teeth to pull the waistband out to reveal his thick length. Veins wound up the shaft, his glans was wide and shiny, his balls heavy with a coating of pale hair.

God she loved Max's ċȯċk. More than she'd ever loved any other ċȯċk. And now she was going to play to her heart's content.

Giving into some of her own impatience she dragged swiftly at his boxers. He slid down the bed so he was laying flat.

She was a predator and he was her prey.

Keeping her gaze locked on his face she stroked his ċȯċk, base to tip, with her fingertips and then her tongue.

He was breathing hard now, his neck raised so he could watch her.

"You're not going to get what you want," she said, "not unless I want it too."

Still, his breaths came hard. She could imagine the big, red ball of impatience growing inside him. He wanted to fuċk.

She wanted that too.

But first, she wanted to suck his ċȯċk. With her buŧŧ in the air, she curled her tongue around his glans. Tasting his musky saltiness, she sank onto him, filling her mouth, her cheeks, her throat.

Then using a few drips of saliva she took him in her hand, worked his length giving a slight twist at the base.

His belly tensed, a tremble ran over his thɨġhs.

She suċkėd on him again. Not gently, but in a way she knew would have his balls tightening, his self-control tested.

His gaze was glued to her.

"How does it feel when you can't do anything? She giggled a tense noise that gave away her own state of arousal.

He mȯȧnėd and shook his head.

"Shh, just enjoy."

She took him into her mouth again, worked him noisily and greedily until a slick of pre-cum coated her tongue.

Pulling back, she calmed herself, her fun would be over if he reached the finish line before she did. And she'd only have herself to blame.

"I know what you want," she said.

He screwed up his eyes.

His ċȯċk needed a few moments of respite so she went onto her knees and hooked her fingers into her knickers and pushed them down, exposing her pussƴ. "You want to see this, don't you?"

He nodded. A rise of colour had bloomed on his cheeks, over the tape.

Trailing her knickers over his face and then his ċȯċk, Amirah fought her own need to climb on and ride hard.

But then it became too much. She had to have him deep inside her. The desperation to feel his hot shaft pulsing against her wet pussƴ was too strong to ignore.

Straddling his saliva-coated ċȯċk, she used her hand to angle him at her pussƴ.

He tensed, his fingers curling into his palms.

A trembled of delight tapped up her spine, to see her usually dominant boyfriend reigned in was such a treat, it made her so horny.

"I know you like to see as well as feel," she said, sliding his tip to her entrance.

He mȯȧnėd, his breaths were coming out in ċhėsty huffs. He lowered his hands, reaching for her and for a moment she wondered if he was about to take control.

"Not today," she murmured, pushing them over his head again.

Then slowly she sat upright and took his thick girth into her pussƴ. "So good," she ġrȯȧnėd, her eyelids fluttering closed as she was stretched by his length. "You feel… so good… Max."

He arched his spine and rose his hɨps to meet her, sinking deep.

"Ah, yes…" she said, lowering fully onto him. "You're so hard for me."

His breaths picked up, so did hers.

"Can you feel how wet you've made me?"

He nodded. A line of tension seared over his brow.

She leaned forward and cupped his jaw. It wouldn't take either of them long to come. They were so ready for it.

Her body seemed to take control, thoughts splintering away. She began to ride him hard, relishing each thrust onto his magnificently hard ċȯċk.

He stared up at her, as if seeing her anew.

"I'm going to come so hard on you today," she gasped, rotating her hɨps, finding her pŀėȧsurė spots. "Oh… Max."

It was nearly there, her ȯrġȧsm. The pressure was building so fast. She increased the pace, her ċŀɨt rolling over his concrete hard body.

And then it was there, a sweeter than sweet ȯrġȧsm that was all the more intense because she had absolute control. Max was her toy, her ċȯċk, her adoring tied up lover.

She cried out, eked out every second of pŀėȧsurė. Then as satisfaction ruled she collapsed forward, her mouth finding his over the tape.

"It's my day today," she gasped.

He narrowed his eyes and tossed his head from side to side.

"Like this, big boy." She slid to the bed with her arse angled toward him. "Do it to me like this. Now."

He was instantly there, shoving deep. His impatience, his need, was tangible.

"Oh yes, yes," she cried as his wide domed ċȯċk raced over her G-spot.

He took advantage of his sliver of control and began to fuċk her hard, blasting to full depth on each lunge.

Amirah fought to catch her breath. Their slick flesh slapped. She flicked her hair out the way, body heat radiating from her in waves. She wanted to come again, like this, with a deep and intense pounding from behind. She gripped the sheets and rode the climb to another ȯrġȧsm.

It came in delicious waves and she reached behind herself to feel his solid ċȯċk slipping in and out of her spasming pussƴ. He was so damn good at fuċkɨnġ from this angle, he always got it just right.

And now, as her climax receded, she knew it was his turn to find pŀėȧsurė. Max adored fuċkɨnġ her from behind, as the session over the bonnet proved, so she'd give him another treat.

Kneeling, she pulled him up beside her. "Tell me how you want to come?" She gripped his jaw and stared at him.

His eyes were sparkling. His ċȯċk was so hard it must have been uncomfortable.

"You can't tell me?"

He shook his head, a pained, strangled mȯȧn rumbled from his throat.

She giggled and kissed him over the tape. "You can't tell me, but you can come now, like this."

Turning to the headboard she tipped her head. "Do you want to kiss my neck first?"

He nodded.

She removed the tape.

Quickly he found the honeyed spot beneath her ear.

She gave him a few seconds of freedom, then reapplied the tape.

His eyes showed surprise. He'd thought he was free.

"We haven't finished yet." She smiled then angled her arse at him. Her wet pussƴ was slick and ready. "Fuck me, now, like this."

He didn't hesitate, he went balls deep on the first thrust.

She grunted with the speed of his invasion and arched her back to take him as deep as she could.

Instantly the fuċk was frantic, wild and primal. She reached behind to hook her hand around his neck. Another ȯrġȧsm was riding toward her. She was going to come with him. She let him know by shouting out her pŀėȧsurė. Allowing each sharp howl of bliss to fill the room and echo around the walls.

He was mȯȧning behind the tape, his body slamming into hers.

Each slide of his ċȯċk into her pussƴ sent her nearer to another ȯrġȧsm. His ċȯċk swelled at the base, telling her he was nearly there too.

"I'm coming…" she shouted. "Come with me."

He did, his muscles tensing and his pace even faster.

She clung to the headboard, taking it, taking him, and allowed her ȯrġȧsm to own her. It blasted through her body, shaking her nerves, searing bliss into each of her limbs. Bright lights flashed. Her heart rocketed.

The sound of his cries, behind the tape, muffled and desperate, increased her pŀėȧsurė. His ecstasy had been captured, by her.

Heated moisture filled her pussƴ, and then he began to slow.

She dropped her head, her hair falling forward. She fought for breath.

Max might be a big tough guy, dominant and always sėx-hungry. But he'd taken to her ruling him with surprising ease.

She turned, ċum slipping down her inner thɨġhs, and carefully removed the tape. A satisfied tilt turned the ends of his lips upward. He was breathing fast and perspiration sat at his temples.

"Did you enjoy that?"

He nodded, his eyes full of satisfaction and pŀėȧsurė.

She smiled and stroked his cheek. "Good, because we'll be doing it again. Soon."

Ends