“Reins,” he said, a hint of mirth in his tone. “It’s your ad hoc saddle. I had it made for you. Inhale,” he murmured as he fit the corset around her ribs and zipped it in the back. She understood why he’d said to inhale. It fit very tightly. The leather stopped an inch or two below her nipples, plumping the flesh above it until it spilled over the edge. “It seems to fit,” he murmured, running his fingers over the fulsome flesh squeezed above the leather. A shudder of pleasure went through her at his touch. “How does it feel?”

“Extremely tight,” Elise blurted, still stunned by what was occurring. She didn’t know whether to be irritated or pleased by his gift. An ad hoc saddle?

He straightened, regarding her and undoubtedly noticing her slight pique. “If you recall, you once told me in no uncertain terms that no one rode you.”

“And you thought to prove me wrong?” she exclaimed heatedly.

“I bought this to make it clear to you that there is one person on this planet whom you will submit to,” he growled softly, running his hand over her ass. “And yes, there is one man you will allow to ride you. Who is that?”

For a moment, she just stared back at him, her heart beginning to pound in her ears.

“You,” she finally admitted softly.

Her gaze remained glued to the small, god-awful-sexy smile that shaped his lips. He walked over to the bedside chest and extricated another bottle of lubricant . . . and the last plug in the box.

The largest one.

Her muscles tightened instinctually around the plug already inserted. He set down the lubricant and the plug on the tabletop. She watched in avid lust as he methodically stripped off the rest of his clothes. Her mouth went dry at the profile vision of his muscular ass, his powerful thighs, and his erect penis, the heavy weight of it making it fall at a horizontal, slightly downward angle.

Her sexual hunger mounted exponentially.

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He walked toward her, the bottle of lubricant and the last plug in his hand.

“You’re going to . . . fuck me in the ass, aren’t you?” she asked, flushing with embarrassment, even though it had seemed obvious to her all night that was precisely what he was preparing her for.

“Yes,” he said, flipping open the cap on the bottle of lubricant. “And you will submit to it. But first, I will ride your hot little pussy.”

A whimper of pure arousal leaked past her lips. The paradox of her feelings created an untenable friction. She didn’t want to be ridden. And yet . . . she did want to be ridden. By him. She wanted the rebellious, empty, hot-blooded wild child she’d been her whole life to find her limit. Held in check.

Held secure by Lucien.

He came toward her, his cock and balls swaying slightly between his thighs as he stalked. Her gaze flicked nervously to the largest plug in his hand. Her breath started to come choppily as Lucien moved behind her. She moaned as he removed the plug in her ass. She clenched her eyelids shut and clamped her jaw a moment later when he inserted the new lubricated butt plug. It hurt a little going in, but once it was fully inserted her ass throbbed around the rubber intruder.

She should have been humiliated, bending over with a large plug in her ass and wearing a corset with reins that Lucien would use to control her. Instead, she was almost overwhelmingly aroused. It grew worse when Lucien came next to her and picked up the crop from the bed. Her arousal was so acute, she looked away from his stare. His hand caught her chin, preventing her avoidance.

“There is no shame in submission,” he reminded her softly. “Only pleasure. And trust. And a desire to please.”

“I do want to please you.”

“I know you do. Even if you doubt. And that pleases me more than anything.”

She bit her lower lip, the anticipation cutting at her, as he walked behind her.

“Step up on the box,” he said, scooting the smooth shoe-polish box near her feet. She shifted and stepped onto the box, still leaning against the horizontal rail at the foot of the bed, putting her body at a more hospitable angle for Lucien to penetrate her.

He impaled her pussy with his cock in one long, forceful stroke. She shrieked at the burst of pressure and pleasure. She was filled to the brim—overfilled—with the plug in her ass and Lucien plunged to the hilt in her vagina. He caressed a buttock as if to soothe her, even as he immediately began fucking her demandingly, his pelvis and balls slapping against her ass. The dual combination of pressure in her ass and pussy was almost too much for her to bear. And he wasn’t being gentle. He drove into her again and again, and Elise strove to keep herself steady for his onslaught.

“You’re so hot,” he grated out, and she gloried at the thick lust in his tone. He withdrew almost entirely, only the bulbous head of his cock submerged in her, and flicked the side of her ass with the crop.

“Ooh,” she squealed, and bucked her hips, sinking her pussy down over his rigid length and bobbing eagerly. He popped her ass harder for that with the leather slapper and gripped her hips in his powerful hold.

“I ride you,” he reminded her, his tone a strange mixture of harsh arousal and fond amusement.

“Yes. Yes, all right,” she conceded in a muffled voice.

This time, he gathered the reins in one hand. It was shockingly exciting, to have him control her movements with the taut reins as he fucked her, pulling back on her body until it smacked against his pelvis in a heady, naughty rhythm she loved and responded to wholeheartedly. Her nipples throbbed as her breasts bounced from his forceful thrusts. Her ass tightened around the plug, sending a dark thrill through her. As his pace increased, he popped her bottom with the crop, urging her on . . .




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