Callan maneuvered his hand between the bed and my back to unhook my bra. Lifting up my back slightly, I made sure he had space enough to get it off me. As pretty as the underwear was, it was only an unnecessary hindrance between Callan's skin and mine.
He threw the bra onto the floor, not caring where it landed. His eyes entirely focused on my breasts. They felt heavy under his gaze—heavy and needy.
I gasped as he leaned down and took a nipple between his lips. He sucked and nibbled on it before switching his attention to the other.
Zings of pleasure whipped through my body by his ministrations, making me arch my back and push my tits closer to him.
A sound of disappointment made its way out of my mouth when he pulled back, craving his touch so completely it felt like I would go insane if I didn't get it. He ignored me. Instead, he blew on my breasts. The cold gust on my wet nipples brought shivers through my entire body. Heat pooled between my legs, and I could feel how drenched my panties had gotten.
"So impatient," Callan tsked, looking down at my squirming body with both disapproval and a hint of amusement. I stilled my movements at once, wanting to please him. And from the glint of satisfaction in his eyes, I accomplished it.
There was no pleasure better than pleasing these men. The elation I found in doing so was something physical pleasure could never compare to. The physical pleasure was over in a couple of minutes, while the other left me glowing from the inside out for a much longer time.
With a self-assured smirk, he pressed his palm against my pantie-covered sex and stroked me with just the right amount that left me wanting more.
"Tell me, little sub, who's touching your pussy?" he whispered harshly.
"You, Sir. My dominant," I breathed.
"And will you let me fuck it as I see fit?" Callan grabbed the material and ripped it from my body. The sting of it made me breath even harder.
Seconds later, two of his fingers sunk deep inside. "Will you let me own it?" he finished.
"Yes, Sir," I moaned, lost in the glorious feeling building inside me.
Callan cataloged every one of my reactions, watching what I liked and what I loved. There wasn't one thing I disliked.
One of the things that attracted me to older men was the fact that they had more experience in bed. They knew what they were doing, with their hands, their mouths, and their cocks. They'd learned the pleasure points of a woman's body and what would make her come in a matter of minutes—if they so desired.
And while I'd never complain, seeing as I was reaping the benefits of their learnings, the thought of them fucking someone else—someone that wasn't me—held a bitter taste in my mouth.
"Don't get lost in your head, Sweetheart," Callan commanded, bringing me back from my thoughts with a vicious thrust of his hand.
Fuck, that felt good.
I rocked against his touch, unable to keep myself from moving. It was too good, too addicting. It was...not enough. My body burned to be filled by him in a way his fingers could not.
"Please," I begged. "I need more, Sir."
"That's not good enough," Callan scoffed. "You can do better than that." He didn't stop fucking me with his hand.
"Please, fuck me," I tried again, but his eyes only narrowed as if he was disappointed in my begging.
"Tell me how much you want my cock, Bella. Beg me for it." I'd already begged, but from his expression, it still wasn't good enough.
YOU ARE READING
Yes, Sirs (Book 1 of Desire's Den)
Romance"You were ours from the second we saw you," he stated as if I didn't have a choice in it, and the truth was, I didn't need to because he was right. I was theirs, but what they didn't know was that they were mine too. ...
