Claimed by Her Web Master (Web Master #3) (8 page)

“I’m taking you to bed where I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop. And then I’m going to fuck you some more.”

A
s much as
I wanted to tie her up, whip her with my belt, do despicable things to that delicate body of hers, Sophie was pregnant and I hesitated to do anything that could even remotely hurt my child. Not to mention that none of those desires outweighed my compulsion to reclaim her as mine.

After I carried her to the master bedroom of the house I’d rented just for the occasion, I positioned her on her back on the king-sized bed. “Arms over your head and spread those legs.”

She complied eagerly, and I took her in, a feast for my eyes. It was true that her breasts had swelled, her waist was a little thicker, though it was too early to see more than a hint of where the baby was. The folds of her cunt had plumped as her body prepared to bring another life into the world. Overall, she looked as ripe as a peach—ready to be plucked. I imagined munching on her, sticky juices running down my chin.

I looked down to see her pussy glistening with her arousal, the tips of her breasts formed hard little points, her eyes half closed in lust, and my cock grew so hard I wondered if it could snap. I felt a tightening in my balls, and I bit the inside of my lip. Fuck! I couldn’t wait any longer. I climbed onto the bed, settled myself between her legs and pushed between those blessed folds.

She wrapped her arms and legs tightly around me, like she was drowning and I might be the one thing that could save her.

I captured her mouth, forced myself deeper inside her, swirling around, searching for the connection we’d lost. The one I so desperately needed to regain.

The sensation of being inside Sophie was like nothing else. Her walls clenched around me, enveloping me in the most intimate dance imaginable. Her cunt was mine, and every time she gave it to me, it renewed my belief that everything would be right in the world. She belonged to me again, and my sense of right in the world was restored.

She did that for me.

Nothing else did.

I had to make her see—I needed her on every level.

But for now, I returned my focus to fucking her. Kicking my hips and abs into overdrive, I increased the pace. I fucked her faster. Harder. Until I could feel myself getting close. When I looked down, I saw Sophie’s face contorted in ecstasy. With each thrust her eyelids fluttered open, and she wore an expression that told of pure bliss. I bent my head, took her breast in my mouth, and bit down gently on her tender nipple. Her entire body squirmed under me, and she cried out my name.

“Quentin,” she screamed. “Oh my God, Quentin!” It had been so long since I’d heard that.

I pumped my hips a few more times, before I ejaculated inside her. When I finally stopped moving, I hovered over her, wishing I could stay there forever.

“I love you,” I whispered.

I waited and waited as I held her tight, but she didn’t say it back.

O
nce I resigned
myself to spending two days in this house with Quentin, and honestly once he fucked the daylights out of me—I began to relax. I was almost enjoying myself.

Almost.

“So, tell me, Sophie—what have you been doing with yourself? School’s out … I’m sure you haven’t been lonely. Who have you been spending time with?” Quentin asked that evening over dinner.

He’d prepared his usual—steaks, baked potatoes, and salad. His repertoire wasn’t wide, but his food was tasty. But every time I ate this meal with him, I remembered what he’d once made me do with a cucumber.

“Are you asking if I’m dating anyone?” The notion seems incredibly foreign. I’d tried to find even a piece of what he and I shared together, but it only made me realize how unique and precious our connection was. Besides, after the past few hours together, it seemed like sacrilege to even bring up other men.

“I am.” He speared a piece of meat with his fork and put it in his mouth.

“Not really.”

“That’s vague. Are you avoiding the question?”

“No.” I sighed then gave him a brief account of my experience trying to connect with another Dom. I told him of the guy who wanted me to blow him in his car, and the one who wouldn’t meet me in public.

“That sounds horrible. It infuriates me when Doms use their power to coerce women or treat them without respect. So many men think being a Dom gives them a license to abuse women. Pisses me off,” he growled.

“You’re right that some of them are abusive. I don’t think they get the appeal.”

“No, they don’t.”

“What about you?” I gulped. “Did you find a new sub?” My stomach dropped, and I wished I hadn’t asked the question. It had been an impulsive instinct to ask. Like when someone asks how you’re doing and you tell them fine and ask how they’re doing. It’s reflexive. But in this case, I didn’t really want to know. Quentin had spent so much time during the last couple of months trying to win me back that I’d assumed he’d only been interested in me. As a teacher, I should have known better than to assume.

“No,” he said, and I breathed deeply. Thank God. I didn’t know if I could handle the jealousy with everything else. My hormones might have me scratching the girl’s eyes out. Wow. That wasn’t like me. Pregnancy was like that. Some days I didn’t recognize myself. Emotions all over the place. Waking up drooling from naps I hadn’t meant to take in the middle of the day. Ankles the size of The Rock’s biceps. Breasts so tender and sore they felt feverish.

“But I did start a podcast.”

“A podcast? About what?”

“Like a D/s play session, but one-sided. Me dominating my audience, I guess. Whoever’s listening.” He shrugged.

“You did not!” I was at once impressed and jealous. His industriousness was to be applauded, but I hated to think of other women getting off on his commands.

He nodded. “I did,” he said and took another bite of food.

“How many people listen to it?” The idea of the man I loved, the man I was about to have a child with, dominating random women over whatever media while they tortured and pleasured themselves to the sound of his voice—that was going to take some getting used to. My initial response was nausea. But then, nausea was my response to everything these days. This was going to require some processing.

“I only did it the once, and I actually never posted it.”

Whew!

“So who has heard it?”

“Just me.”

“I’d like to hear it.” I didn’t want to admit how much.

He stared at me like I was the only woman who had ever existed. “Thank you, Sophie. When I was preparing my script, I couldn’t remember what I’d said to the other subs I had before you. And once I’d completed it, I hated how it sounded. Plus, I think, in the back of my mind, I knew that you were the only submissive I wanted. It was just an idea I had. A way to get my sexual needs met without really having to connect with anyone else.”

“So you were going to dominate, essentially boss your audience around, and never even connect with them.”

“Sounds misogynistic, doesn’t it?”

“Kinda.”

“I never said I wasn’t fucked up.”

We both laughed.

“Here, you have some dressing …” He pointed at the corner of his mouth to show me where. I blotted my mouth with a napkin.

“Other side,” he said, and I blotted the other side.

Staring at my mouth, he pushed his chair back and stood up. Then he dropped his napkin into his chair and walked over to my side of the table, the entire time staring at me so intently that I shifted in my seat under the intensity of his gaze.

Before I could ask what he was doing, he bent down, bringing his face to mine. The tip of his tongue touched the corner of my mouth, licking away the stray dressing. “Something about you and salad dressing gets me all excited.” Then his tongue traced the outline of my mouth and with an involuntary moan I opened for him. He tasted so good, and I wanted to throw my arms around him, place my hand behind his neck and pull him into me.

I’d tried for months to forget about this man. Told myself he was trouble I didn’t need. That he would destroy whatever good was between us with his self-destructive ways, but now, being alone with him, I couldn’t deny that I loved him, craved him, that he was part of my soul.

His mouth danced with mine. Nipping, sucking, thrusting at each other until he withdrew, stood and went back to his side of the table and sat down. When he settled back into his chair, he smiled at me as casually as if we’d been discussing the nice weather in Hawaii.

Meanwhile, I could barely maintain my composure. My heart rate sped up, and I could tell my pussy was engorged, my panties soaked. Hard nipples strained against my industrial-sized maternity bra and my appetite for food was gone.

Quentin, on the other hand, dove into his meal with gusto. After he devoured his steak he asked, “You’re not hungry?”

I shook my head. “My stomach feels queasy most of the time.”

“My poor girl. I’m sorry you feel bad. Try to eat something though. Remember, you’re eating for two.”

I picked at my salad, forced down a few bites of everything, then I simply waited for him to finish his food, ready and aching for him to ravish me again.

He knew I was tired, but I couldn’t help myself. My pussy was throbbing, and I wanted him to take me.

When he was finished I stood and started taking my plate to the kitchen. I was planning to take his too, but before I could take two steps he was on me, relieving me of the task. “Here, let me do that. You just rest. You’re doing enough, sitting there gestating our baby.” I plopped back down. The warmth of being cared for blanketed me, and I basked in his spoiling me. This was a rare treat, as most of my days were awash in loneliness and exhaustion recently.

After he brought all the dirty dishes into the kitchen and piled them up in the sink, he came around and stood behind me and began massaging my neck and shoulders. “I have a feeling you’re going to be out like a light in no time, so I’m going to do those dishes after you fall asleep.”

I giggled. “Probably a good idea.” He must have sensed that if he did them now I might be passed out by the time he came back.

The touch of his hands felt amazing as they sent waves of electricity through my body. Slowly he convinced my muscles to relax, and soon I was a puddled mess, his to be molded.

“I’m glad you’re relaxed,” he whispered in my ear. “Because I have something planned for you.”

Then his hot mouth was on my neck, his hands were on my breasts. He held my wrists above my head in one hand, keeping me restrained. Not that I would try to get away again. First of all, I had nowhere to go, and second of all I wanted to be here, if I was honest with myself. Quentin was the love of my life, and having no choice but to be with him—well, it gave me an excuse to ignore what my brain told me and allow my heart to give my body over to him.

As pitiful as it was, a part of me wished I could remain his captive always and never have to make the difficult decisions I knew lay ahead of me. Before I had a chance to kiss him back, he picked me up and carried me to the bedroom where I knew I would not fall asleep disappointed.

I
’d already fucked
Sophie twice, but it wasn’t enough.

The way I felt now it would never be enough. I couldn’t get deep enough inside her. Maybe that was because what I really wanted was to bury myself in her soul. Her cunt would have to do for the moment, but it was her life I wanted to insert myself into permanently.

“On your hands and knees,” I ordered her.

She did as I’d bid her, offering her backside to me to do with as I saw fit. A sense of power washed over me and blood rushed to my cock as I realized how blessed I was to have this beautiful woman with me, submitting to me after all I’d done to her.

The round globes of her rear end, the curve of her hips to what was still a slim waist, at least from this angle, and her wild dark hair fueled my desire for her. I reached out to caress her soft skin, but something held me back.

With each touch was I not defiling the mother of my child? Destroying a piece of her if she didn’t really want to be with me? I wasn’t raping her, but certainly I’d coerced her.

I weighed my options. I could return her to her hotel. Allow her to go about her life. She could gestate and have our child without me. I could petition for parental rights, even partial custody, but if I let her go now, I was afraid she’d choose not to include me in her life.

That might have been the right thing to do, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

No. I needed to remind her what we had together, what I could give her.

She craved my domination. That I knew. It was no figment of my imagination. In the time we’d been apart I suspected that she’d convinced herself that she’d be fine on her own.

“I don’t need Quentin. That was fun, but now I need to be on my own,” she probably told herself.

But that was bullshit! It was time to remind her who she belonged to and why it was good to belong to me.

Kneeling behind her, I leaned over and took her breast in my hand, fondling it, kneading it, toying with her nipple the way I knew she adored. “Don’t be alarmed. I’m going to drip some wax on you.”

“Okay,” she answered, and that was enough consent for me. I reached for the candle and matches I’d stored in the drawer of the nightstand.

I massaged her labia, squeezed her clit, and fingered her juicy pussy—readying it for me. She squirmed underneath me, and I had to caution her to try to remain still. When she was dripping wet, I poked the tip of my cock into her wet slit. Her corresponding moan told me I was on the right track.

Pushing in a little more, I lit the candle. I could feel her muscles twitching around me. She was trying not to move, but it was clear she wanted nothing more than to scoot her ass back and sheath me completely. I grasped her left hip firmly to remind her not to move as I let the first droplet of wax land on her back.

She let out a shriek, more from surprise than pain.

After the second drop hit, I gave her another inch of my cock. The noise she made was nothing short of exquisite. That delicious combination of pleasure and pain—that was what
I
gave her. It was what she’d come to crave, and no one would ever give it to her the way I did. I would see to that.

I fucked her slowly, punctuating my thrusts with drops of hot wax. Between the mmms of the fucking, and the ouches of the scalding wax she didn’t know whether to coo or cry, and that was just the way I liked her—captive in my thrall.

The smell of sweat and sex filled my nostrils and fueled my lust. Sophie’s fingers clutched at the bedsheets as I dribbled wax on her ass and pummeled her poor little pussy.

“Does that feel good, whore? Do you like me to burn you while I take you?” I taunted.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

Her submission was the most incredible gift. No matter what our future held, in that moment, the bond between us felt precious yet solid.

“Do you want to come, slut?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Beg.”

“Please, please may I come, Sir?”

“You can do better than that. Make me believe you.”

“Please, Sir.” Her voice grew more shrill. “I need to come so badly, Sir. Please, please, please let me come.”

“Good girl.” I blew out the candle, set it down, and reached around her blooming torso and found her clit. The more I rubbed little circles over it the more she bucked underneath me, but I grabbed a handful of her hair with my other hand and held on tight. It was a wild ride but I fucked her until she came all over me, soaked my hand, and was practically sobbing with her release.

My balls tightened, and finally I allowed my own release, jetting my seed inside her. When I withdrew I lay down next to her, drawing her close to spoon with me.

“See? You need me, don’t you?” I was afraid she’d say no, but I had to ask.

She hugged my arms close to her body. “I did need that. Thank you, Sir.”

It would have to do for now.

After several minutes we both felt the awkward discomfort of the dried wax on her skin. “Let me go run you a bath, and we’ll get that off of you.”

“Thanks.” She smiled.

When I came back from filling up the tub, she looked up at me with those deep-brown eyes. “You know, you’ve been really sweet to me.”

“I have?”

“Yes, and I want to thank you for that.”

How’s that for the shoe being on the other foot? I was usually the bad guy. Maybe I’d scored more points with her than I’d realized.

I winked at her. “No problem, ma’am. Now, let’s get you into that bath.”