Page 140 of Breaking Rosalind
“Cheap distraction, pet,” I say. “And it’s a hobby, not a pretension.”
“Whatever.” She continues rolling her hips, nestling my cock between her ass cheeks. I wrap an arm around her waist, relishing the feeling of control. I’m not deluded enough to believe Rosalind wants to give me pleasure, but I’ll play along.
Her desperate need to evade my question about the scar has given me the exact blueprint to breaking her spirit. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Moirai required all its operatives to become sterile. Rosalind might even regret having signed up to be a killing machine instead of the giver of life.
“What an eager little pet,” I growl into her ear. “Can’t get enough of your master’s cock?”
“Shut up,” she snaps without breaking rhythm.
She grinds against my shaft with a rhythm that has my heart thundering for more. I slide my fingers between her legs and find her swollen clit, making her breath come in uneven gasps.
I’ll drop the subject of her hysterectomy scar, at least until after I’ve come all over those cheeks.
“Why rub against my shaft when you can ride it?” I ask.
“I thought you stitched my pussy shut.”
“You have more than one hole.”
“Get fucked,” she says with a laugh.
The corners of my lips lift in a smirk. Every day I spend with Rosalind gets me further under her skin. I’m only steps away from conquering her spirit. So, when my fingers leave her clit and wander up her pubic bone, I know she’ll give me her ass.
She raises her hips and snarls, “Fine. Hold it steady.”
“Like this?” I grip my shaft and position it at her asshole.
There’s enough bath oil in the water to make it slippery, but when she slides down onto my cock, her tight heat is almost too much to bear. She throws back her head and her lips part with a moan.
“Fuck,” I groan, my breath coming in shallow pants. “I knew you’d feel good, but you take my cock like you were made for me.”
“For the love of all things holy, stop talking,” she hisses, her hands clenching into fists.
Very few women I know volunteer for anal, let alone without lube. Rosalind’s determination to keep me distracted just sealed her fate as my perfect toy.
I remain still, letting her take her sweet time encasing me to the root. Her strong muscles squeeze my cock like they’re trying to make it submit. My balls tighten, and sensation travels up my spine, lighting up every pleasure receptor.
“Want to keep me quiet?” I say, my hands gripping her hips. “Then ride this cock until I’m too fucked up to ask questions.”
She huffs out a laugh. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, asshole.”
“Fine words when yours is filled with my shaft,” I say with a grin.
She rolls her hips, the movements deliberate and slow, coaxing every nerve ending back to life. Her inner walls ripple around my shaft in sync with the pounding of my pulse.
The bathwater laps around our bodies as our gasps echo in the steamy room. I suck in a sharp breath, my fingers digging into her hips.
“Just like that,” I say, my voice choked. “You’re riding my cock so well.”
Leaning back against my chest, she moves her arms and jangles her chains. “Release my wrists.”
“Not a chance,” I reply between gasping breaths.
“I could ride you harder, faster. Make you come deep in my ass with a roar.”
These are exactly the words I want to hear from my pet, but without the manipulation. I reach between her legs and circle her clit. “How about you shut the fuck up and ride?”
She quickens her pace, making her strokes long and even. With each movement, she moans and arches her back, pressing harder against my pecs. Hot water splashes over the tub’s edge and onto the bathroom floor as our bodies collide.