Chapter 11

Chapter

Eleven

From my perchon his lap, I feel every twitch and shiver that goes through Tate's body, and it makes me feel powerful. Like a sensual goddess in control of every pleasurable sensation shared between us.

"Is that what you want?" he asks.

I let my hips grind down over his swollen ridge beneath me. The hard pipe of his erection sends lightning bolts of fire from my toes to my scalp where it pushes the seam of my jeans into my needy pussy.

"Yes!" I gasp, the sharp desire nearly robbing me of the ability to manage even the simple syllable.

He pulls my face to his, capturing my lips in a kiss that's every bit as much a claim as his words have been. Our tongues stroke along each other as they push and pull back and forth from his mouth to mine, until the need for air forces us apart.

"Hold on tight, baby." If anyone else called me baby it would feel trite and unsexy, but I can't get enough of the simple pet name from Tate.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist as he rises from the floor as easily as if I wasn't clinging to him like Saran Wrap. I expected him to carry me down the hallway I know leads to his bedroom, but he surprises me.

Once on his feet, he pulls my legs from around his waist and unclasps my arms from his neck. His eyes meet mine, and I feel the way he watches me. He's looking for something, probing inside me for an answer.

"To be clear, you're giving yourself to me, right now. Once I make you mine, you're mine for good. Mine to own. To worship. To fuck and to pleasure however I see fit."

Somehow, this feels like a whole new Tate. His primal intensity has me feeling like prey. Words fail me in the face of his possessive dominance, so unlike the best friend I've known all this time. I nod, my voice stuck behind the massive boulder of lust lodged in my throat.

Tate steadies me on my feet before spinning me to face the table. He steps behind me and nudges a foot between mine until my feet are wide enough he can stand between them. His pelvis pushes against my ass, the split of my cheeks a perfect cradle for the granite-hard cock that feels big enough to split me in two. His back drapes over mine until he's pressed my chest to the table, his arms reaching to catch my hands and stretch them out in front of me.

"Hold on to the edge of the table. Don't let go."

"Or what?" I guess I can still manage to find sassy words.

"Don't tempt me to show you what naughty girls who don't obey get, baby. Trust me when I tell you, you want to be my good girl, right now." Menacing power gives his threat a sinister tone. A breathy moan floats through the quiet of the kitchen, and I'm shocked when I realize it's mine.

Tate eases up from my back, trusting me to remain stretched out over the table with my hands white knuckling the far edge. One of his hands works around my waist to tear at the button and zipper of my jeans while his other hand slips under my T-shirt to unhook my bra.

The instant my pants are unfastened, he tugs and pulls until my pants and panties are lowered to my knees. It's the farthest down they can go with my legs still spread open by his between them. My backside is bared to his gaze, and even without being able to see his face, I feel the weight of his stare.

He's got a front row seat to the way my pussy peeks from between my spread thighs, my back entrance visible in the bright light of the kitchen. The realization of everything he sees brings an embarrassed blush to my face. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, erotic shame making my empty core clench helplessly.

"Fuckin' beautiful, Jill baby. Not even my fantasies could prepare me for this flawless cunt." His dirty talk is filthy and would make me turn me red if I wasn't already fluorescent red from the position he's got me in.

"Tate!" I moan. I can't help it. I need. No idea what specifically I need. Just that I need.

"Don't whine, sweetheart. I'm going to take care of you. But first, you're going to be my good girl and give me what I need."

I shudder, my brain stuttering around the idea of him shoving that thick veiny cock I saw this morning into me. I feel my wetness slicking up the inside of my thighs, but as big as he is, if he tries to push inside me without preparing me more, I'm not sure I can take him.

Before I can force out the words to slow him down, I hear the crack of his palm connecting with my ass the instant before it lights on fire. The sting morphs into searing pleasure in the instant it takes my brain to register the spanking. Another sharp smack to the opposite cheek has me dancing onto my toes, my fingers cramping where I'm holding onto the edge of the table for dear life.

"You're thinking too much. This is my pussy now, Jill. You gave it to me, and it's going to give me everything I want. Because you're a good girl, and you want good girl rewards, right?"

I don't recognize the desperate nonsensical words that pour from me, but Tate must read my agreement in them. Instead of ripping me apart with his girthy cock, he steps back from me and cold air dances over the freshly heated skin of my ass.

The jangle of his belt and rustle of clothes coming off never comes. In its place, I hear the twin thuds of his knees hitting the tile floor before callused fingers grip each butt cheek, pulling them wide for a cold blow of air from Tate's mouth over my most hidden places.

His nose nudges against the tight pucker of my asshole in the same instant his scruffy cheeks rasp against my lower lips. His mouth settles over my pussy from behind, and goosebumps race over my skin at the overwhelming shock of sensations.

Tate pushes his face deeper and deeper against me, his hands spreading me wide to be devoured. And he is devouring me. Lips, tongue, teeth, he's leaving no bit of me untouched.

"Girlfriend privileges she says. Like she doesn't fucking own me inside out." His grumbles vibrate against my skin, driving my pleasure higher and higher.

His mouth works me over, the jut of his chin grinding against my clit when he stabs his tongue as deep into me as he can get it. He consumes me as if my body is a buffet. There's no gentle teasing foreplay, just feasting on my pussy as if it's his last meal on earth.

Every time my climax begins to crest, he draws back. He changes his pace from a sprint to marathon and back until I'm shaking so much the table legs squeak and screech against the tile. I'm begging and babbling and making promises I have no idea the practicality of. I just need to come so badly my brain can focus on nothing else.

"Please, please, Tate!"

"Please what?" I can hear his arrogant smirk without seeing him. Which is a good thing, because I can't lift my head to look back at him. Every muscle in my body is locked in rigor, my orgasm bearing down on me.

"I need to come. please, please, make me come!" I beg. I plead.

"Naughty girl. This is my pussy, and I don't like repeating myself. It's mine, and I know what it needs. It needs to come on my cock. So it knows only my cock can fill it the way it needs to be filled."

"Then do it, dammit! Fuck me already!" I'm screaming, and I don't care. I wouldn't care if there were a hundred people standing outside to hear me.