Pursued (14 page)

She had no idea what he was doing, and she didn’t care. He could light a cigar and have a drink while she stayed like that, and it would thrill her all the same. Of course, she hoped against hope that Henry would pull her onto his cock and end the frustration brewing between them for over a month.

Monica did not look up, so all she knew about what was going on came from the quiet groans in Henry’s throat. He sounded so far away, yet close, and they shared an intimacy that told Monica few got to hear him so vulnerable.
He’s no virginal prince.
She preferred it that way. Much preferred it that way. She wanted him to know what he was doing and how he should give it to her.
Hard. Fast. I don’t care. Be slow and sensual, just do it!

His groans turned into grunts. Monica focused on them, wanting to reach between her legs and stroke herself to the sounds of Henry Warren taking pleasure from
her.
Sometimes serving wasn’t about doing anything at all. Sometimes it was about getting on one’s knees and exposing one’s bare back to a man towering over her.

“You’re mine, Princess.” It was the last thing he said before climaxing onto her skin.

Monica gasped into the carpet, the warmth of his seed hitting her skin most unexpectedly. She never anticipated him coming so soon. Then again, the man was so wound up for a night that was supposed to be long and purposeful that he probably needed the early release. Now Monica was left with
him
all over her. At first it hit her between the shoulders, then the small of her back, and then the base of her zipper where her ass poked out.
That’s a lot…
Was he normally that generous, or was it
her?

He didn’t have to tell her what he meant by his words and action.
I’m his. I’m all his tonight.
The primal instinct for the alpha male to claim the she-wolf as his..
I’m his.
It allowed him to take his time with her now. And in turn, Monica got to revel in the fact that Henry Warren wanted her enough.

“Get up.”

Henry was no longer erect when Monica gingerly sat up and turned around, her Dom’s spent seed sliding down her back and wrapping around her sides to her breasts. Some of it remained on the head of his cock, and it took every bit of restraint to not lean forward and lick it off for him.
I would. I love that.

“Did you like that?”

“Yes, sir.”

The thumb touching her chin was both gentle and demanding.
Give me more.
“Do you want to stop?”

“Absolutely not.”

Monica walked away from him.

“Where are you going?”

She opened a drawer in one of her dressers. What she pulled out was none other than the silver and diamond collar.

Two minutes later she was strung up by silk rope to the hook hanging above her bed. The collar wrapped snugly around her throat, but did not choke her. The leash fell around her in a spiral, Henry Warren yanking it until she yelped in surprise.

“You’re a foul princess now, aren’t you?” He tugged again, Monica’s head nodding backward as her hair became tangled in the metal links of the leash. “Tied up in bed with a man’s seed dripping on you. Tell me how filthy you are.”

“I’m filthy, sir. My skin has been corrupted.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Henry mumbled. He knelt on the bed with one knee, the other foot supporting him on the floor. His buttons were open now.
I want to touch his bare chest.
Toned, firm… the man worked out. “You like being a filthy princess, don’t you?”

“I wish to be defiled.”

Something smacked her ass. It wasn’t his hand, but the end of the leash. Monica couldn’t move with her arms suspended above her, but her legs buckled, splitting apart and making her slit come closer to the bed. “Make as much noise as you want, Princess.”

Gladly.
Henry ripped her dress upward, smacking the hard, silver leash against her ass in quick succession.
Smack!
One.
Smack!
Two.
Smack!
Three. Monica shuddered every time, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she whimpered and then cried out in beautiful pain. She waited for a fourth one, but it never came.

“Do you want more?”

“Yes, Mr. Warren!”

“Too bad. You’ll have to earn them now. Do you know how to earn another spanking?”

“No, sir, please tell me.”

“Every time you show me your filthy side, I’ll punish you with a spank. You don’t get anything else until you’ve proven to me that you are the filthiest woman I know.”

Henry was generous in the examples he let her show. When he pulled her dress off her, letting it pool around her, he commented on how hard her nipples were.
Smack!
Four.

Her knees shook whenever he came close to her breasts.
Smack!
Five.

His seed had spread across her back, wetting her underwear.
Smack!
Six.

She whimpered when he pinched her nipple.
Smack!
Seven.

“Please give me one more,” he made Monica beg. “Only I want your hand.”

Henry dropped the leash and spanked her with his hand. When it lingered on her ass, he finally realized how wet she was.

It prompted him to remove her underwear. Slowly at first, but even Henry could not deny how eager he was to see what she kept inside them. His frustration reached the point that he ripped them, and they fell away from her thighs and slit.

Smack!
Nine. For being wet.

I can’t stand it.
Her arousal was so great that her wetness dripped from her center and trickled downed her thighs. The scent alone, mingling with the scent of Henry’s seed on her skin, made her look to the ceiling and curse the rope keeping her immobile. Otherwise she would turn around and demand he take her right now.

“One more, Monica,” he said. “Your ass is so red. And you have no idea how much I want to fuck you.”

“I do, Mr. Warren,” she replied out of turn. “Because I want you to just as badly.”

She was naked, and he was almost naked. Henry removed his shirt, standing before Monica and showing her what she longed to touch. His cock was half-erect again. She wanted to touch that too.

Henry looked at her spread thighs and chuckled. “I guess so. I should be flattered, Princess, I doubt you get that ridiculously wet for any man.”

“I’ve wanted you for so long that I can’t help it. Please, Mr. Warren, use my body.”

His smile disappeared. “I like the sound of that.”

First he had to stroke himself back to a full erection. His large, wide hands massaged his cock in the way he liked, and while Monica enjoyed the show, she also took many notes for future reference.
Tug on his sack more. Rub my thumb at the bottom of his head. Stroke quickly upward but slowly downward.
A man knew best how he liked it. Monica’s job as his submissive was to learn and employ it.

Now he crawled onto the bed, erect, his hands grabbing her as he kissed her mouth and lifted her hips into the air.

She came close – so close! – to having his tip touch her slit. Monica sobbed in frustration, her core aching for him to reach up to it and stroke the innermost parts of her. Henry wasn’t kidding when he said he would deny her, however. He tapped his cock against her thigh, making her squirm, and making him wet all over as she released her arousal right onto his shaft. When they finally got around to it, Henry would slide in so effortlessly that Monica would cry.

“My princess,” he muttered, kissing her once, then again. His fingers pinched both of her nipples, and his cock came dangerously close to her entrance.
Fuck me fuck me fuck me!
“You are quite a woman.”

He leaned back on his arms, directing his cock at her slit and rubbing the head against her clit. Monica in turn rubbed against him, although her movements were stilted thanks to the ropes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity trapped in a prison of sexual frustration, Henry’s cock pushed into her.

And didn’t go any farther.

“Tell me how much you want it.” Henry was on the verge of giving up and fucking her anyway, but his restraint was unreal, and Monica knew he took pleasure in making her suffer. “Tell me how much you need my cock.”

“”Yes, please.” Monica wrestled against her binds, futilely trying to ride him. “Please, Mr. Warren, I beg you… fuck me!”

She was almost crying real tears by the time he untied her and let her fall to the bed. Before Monica could scramble into his lap and ride him until she came too hard and too long, Henry held her down and whipped the leash back into his hand.

The collar closed in around her throat. It wouldn’t hurt her, but suddenly Monica was reminded of what they played at.

“I’ve done a many things to you tonight, Monica.” He pulled on the leash and forced her head up, her legs already dangling around his hips while she continued to search for his cock. “Fucking you will mean that this is it. You’re my sub. You’re my servant. You want to be defiled? Then I’ll use you as I use all my subs.”

He saved one last thing for the moment he finally thrust into her.

“This means I own you forever now.”

Monica cried out, his cock filling her as easily as she anticipated. Good thing, for his girth would have been too much to handle otherwise, especially the first time.
I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me. I can’t wait.
As satisfying as it was to have Henry Warren finally fill her up, nothing compared to the moment he sat up and yanked on her leash.

His defiled, tarnished,
ruined
princess had no choice but to grab the leash by her throat, bracing against it as her knees shoved up toward her head and Henry fucked her with the strength of a primal beast. Never before had Monica felt so small and cornered during sex. She realized she truly was Henry’s plaything, a servant to be used and discarded when she became too sullied to be of any more use.

That’s all she was.

That’s all she needed to be.

His forcefulness was what she needed. Maybe not wanted, but needed. He ravaged her, his cock thrusting into her at alarming speed and never missing its mark inside; he pulled the leash every few seconds, snapping her head up and reminding her that she was a beast too; the sounds in his throat were more animalistic than hers, which were shrill, pitiable, and blissfully irrelevant. The more Henry Warren fucked her, the more Monica fell away from reality and entered that torrid world where she only existed to be a slave.

No worries. No debts. No terrible past full of heartbreak and guilt.

Monica squeezed the leash until her hands ached. Eventually she had to close her eyes and concentrate on Henry thrusting into her, one hand tightening around her hip while the other pulled on the leash and held her chest down at the same time. He was using her, his first orgasm allowing him to last a lot longer this time, although his breaths were quickening and his hips shaking in impending climax.

Monica lifted her hips at the right moment. Henry hit her where it counted, and she screamed in pleasure to the point it felt like fate.

Her orgasm turned her into a famished creature who slammed back against him, devouring him until he became the one who couldn’t run away. When his fingers tightened on her breast, Henry let out a sadistic sound that was only matched by the sudden, quick bursts of warmth filling Monica deep inside.

He lingered inside her, although his breath labored in his chest and his body nearly collapsed on top of her. When he did embrace Monica, it was with kisses to her skin that were more loving than passionate.

The collar came away. At first it saddened Monica, for that collar represented more than a good time in the bedroom. It represented an intimacy that she couldn’t have with just anyone. When her Dom took off her collar, it meant she couldn’t escape into his world for another day.

Sometimes those days were so long.

“Monica.” Henry caught his breath and used it to nuzzle her neck with a sigh as warm as the rest of him. “Or should I keep calling you my princess?”

“Call me whatever you want,” she said, wrapping her aching arms around his broad shoulders.
He’s so strong.
Deceptively so. In his suits he looked like an ordinary man. Not overweight, but for all a woman knew he might be less than attractive beneath those expensive clothes.
It wouldn’t have mattered.
Feeling his muscles on top of her petite body made her feel like the most protected woman in the world. It helped that he spent more than a minute kissing her, his affections most welcomed as he slowly pulled away from her below. “I don’t mind.”

“Of course you mind.” He slumped to the side, his hips and torso off her but his legs still curled with hers and his arm propped up next to her head. A tender touch came to Monica’s cheek once again. “There is always something that makes you happier to hear than all others.”

“I truly do not care… if it makes you happy to call me, then it makes me happy to hear.”