Tightening her lips around him once more, she took in as much of him as she could, sucking him down until the head pushed against the back of her throat, and then drew back, almost letting him go. Then again, and again.
“I won’t be able to take much more of that,” he warned her.
He really does recover fast.
But she wanted to taste him now, undiluted. She sucked him down, squeezing his shaft with her lips, trying to draw the seed out of him. He was able to take more than he thought. She wondered if he was holding back on her, but just as she had the thought the first taste of him jetted across her tongue. She swallowed, knowing there was more, and she wasn’t disappointed. She let a little escape, although she didn’t need to, and felt it dribble down her chin, and when he’d given her his last she looked up at him impudently.
I made him do that. Being the sub doesn’t mean I’m powerless.
He bent down, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her up, and that delicious, powerful feeling gave way to an even more delicious feeling of surrender. He surprised her by kissing her, deeply. She was shocked for a moment, and then realized that he might enjoy tasting himself in her as much as she enjoyed tasting herself on him. Their tongues wrestled, wet and slippery, in a kiss that seemed like it would never end.
“Wow,” she said at last.
He grinned back at her. “Yeah.”
“Master,” she said to him. “I love you.”
He grinned even wider. “I love you, too. My little angel.”
Author Bio
Sindra van Yssel is a practicing librarian on the east coast of the United States. She spends her off time writing books too spicy for the library shelves, taking her son to Soccer games, cooking East Asian food, playing Dance Dance Revolution, and listening to old bands like Bauhaus and The Cure. She has difficulty sticking to any one hair color, but as of this writing, it’s bright purple. Her website is at www.sindravanyssel.com.