The Beginning of Everything by Kristen Ashley Page 0,132

his free hand than he was in her.

“Please,” she whispered, needing his attention. Needing an admiring eye. An indication she was behaving rightly. That he liked what he saw. That he wanted what she was giving him.

That she was pleasing him.

He took his cock in his left hand and shifted slightly so he could take the handle of the tool inside her in his right.

With that, he fucked her as he stroked himself, turning his gaze to the mirror to watch his ministrations between her legs.

Her stomach tightened, her nub throbbed, her nipples ached.

Goddess, she needed release.

His eyes lifted to hers.

“Watch me fuck you,” he ordered emotionlessly.

Immediately, Serena looked down, seeing the slick, smooth wood disappear inside her then reappear. And again. Again. Again.

It was mortifying to be used thus.

It was also beautiful.

“Please,” she begged.

He thrust it up, left it inside and turned fully to her, shifting hands, left to right as he carried on stroking himself, but now not touching her.

“Do you know my name?” he asked.

She tore her gaze from his magnificent shaft and lifted it to his face.

“I—”

“I told you my name when we met. Do you know it?”

“You are Shen, of the Trusted,” she said.

“That is the name the person you asked after me was instructed to give. That is not my true name. The one I gave you when we met.”

Oh no.

“I’m sorry,” Serena whispered. “Our relations were such, I thought of naught else but what you gave me and everything else slipped my mind.”

He released his cock and struck her arse, one cheek, the next, back, again, and again, her breasts bobbing, her disregarded nipples in agony, until the pain drove up her pussy, convulsed at her clit, her head fell back, and he grasped both cheeks and squeezed hard.

She whinnied in sheer need.

He released her arse and pulled the tool from inside her, dropped it to the floor and thrust his cock through her crevice, gliding it along the lips of her wet.

She forced her gaze back to the mirror and saw the slick cockhead framed with her curls and the beads.

At the sight, the feel of him, Serena shivered everywhere.

“You lie,” he growled in her ear, easing his shaft back and forth between her legs, but not inside.

She did.

She did lie.

She did not remember his name, for when she met him, she did not think it would be worth remembering.

And she didn’t know if she wished to continue to lie, and make him angrier, earning what he might deliver, or if she should be honest and admit it.

She wanted to please him.

She only wanted to please him.

But she did not know how.

Mercifully, he told her.

“If you’re honest, you get a reward.”

“I lied,” she said instantly.

And then maddeningly, he kept riding her without riding her.

But he also reached around and pulled at her nipples.

Serena’s head fell back, hit his shoulder, and she moaned.

Cruelly, he twisted his fingers.

“Watch me work you,” he ordered.

It took much, but she made her gaze go back to the mirror.

Still at her breasts, he pulled his shaft back, shifted his hips, and she felt her eyes get wide as he touched a finger to her hole.

Her lips parted as he put pressure there, spreading her, opening her.

She’d never done this.

She didn’t because she’d never desired this.

“I will fuck you here,” he said in her ear.

“Yes,” she whispered without hesitation, willing, needing to get anything from him.

His finger disappeared, and he slid between her legs, but this time, he dipped his knees and drove inside her pussy.

“Yes,” she hissed, convulsing against him, against her bindings, tipping her hips to get more.

He drove hard and deep, still tormenting her nipples.

“What’s my name?” he asked, his hips pounding into the heated cheeks of her backside, stinging pain with each thrust, shafting pleasure in its wake.

She quivered.

“What’s my bloody name?” he demanded.

“I-I don’t know.”

He pulled out.

She gasped and cried, “No!”

He went to where the tethers were looped around a hook on the wall, released them, gave them slack and demanded, “Knees.”

Serena dropped at once to her knees.

He re-secured the suede in a manner her arms were still over her head, walked to her front and shoved his cock in her face.

“Worship,” he grunted.

She did not like the taste of herself. She’d taken it the time he had her before without thought, but this time, the length of their play, the attention she was receiving, along with the inattention…

He took hold of her hair, yanked her head back, with her arms still straight over