Transgressions, Carolyn Faulkner [black female authors .txt] 📗

He loved seeing her flush; it swept all the way down through her body until even the tips of her toes were pink.

She didn't want to say it! But she knew she had to or face another punishment. "You—I—you had told me to come."

"Yes, I had, hadn't I? So, we have unfinished business to take care of, don't we?"

Just his words were more than enough for her to get off, but then, when the insistent work of his hands was brought into the equation, she nearly came right there and then.

"I want you to come as soon as you feel you can—although, as I've told you before, this is not a race. I just expect that you will submit to me and not interfere in any way—even one you think I might desire. I will make you come when I want you to. You are not to do anything to support or hinder it."

She was nearly breathless from his efforts but still managed to get out a wispy, "Yes, Sir."

It was still strange for her to do—not to try to come, but to submit to his pace. But there was a startling, intense pleasure in striving to obey him that made her orgasms with him unbelievably explosive.

Enzo continued to play with her, talking to her occasionally, careful to temper any praise with firm commands to arch her back more or to spread her legs wider. At this point, it didn't matter to him whether she could even physically do any of the things he charged her with. It mattered that he could see that she was making the effort to do it—and immediately after he'd said it. He knew that committing herself to her submission to him would add yet another layer to her pleasure.

Because he was observing her so carefully, although not in anywhere near as clinical a manner as he might have preferred, he was much too involved—sexually and emotionally—in what he was doing to her. He easily recognized when the ultimate ecstasy was near for her and demanded what he wanted from her when she was at her weakest, which was exactly where he had put her.

"Say you're mine, Allegra. Mine to do with as I please. Say it now, or I'll stop and take my belt to you."

She groaned loudly, as if in protest at the intensity his demand added to her condition, then it morphed into what he was demanding of her and felt a thousand times more sensational because of it. "I am yours!" she screamed. "I am yours!"

But when it began, she almost tried to run from it, from him, her body tensing at the sheer magnitude of the tsunami that was headed her way.

"Allegra!" he scolded. "Stay still!"

And that only added to all of that stunning, startling pleasure that completely took her breath away when it finally hit her, her body completely out of her own control, given over to him, subject to his whim and his will as he drew it out as best he could, wringing five, six, then finally, and almost painfully, seven full and complete explosions from her before he claimed her from behind, slipping up inside her with embarrassing ease and fucking her as he held her immobile for his thrusts, her arms still folded between them, breasts bobbing from his powerful invasions.

His own culmination was much too quick, having overstimulated himself by overstimulating her. Still, he didn't regret a single second.

She was his, by her own words. And he kept what was his. There would be no more wondering if she wanted something, wondering if he was overstepping his bounds and he should back off and play the gentleman businessman. Not with her, not when they were alone. And eventually, not at all.

He would build them a world where they would never have to worry about what anyone else thought, where they could be hidden away or out in public; it wouldn't matter, and she would be free to be overtly his.

He had more than enough money to do it now—he just had to arrange things so that he could control them from a much more secluded spot.

Things fell together for them better than she would have thought, and there were really only two small dark spots on the horizon, for Ally, anyway.

One was that Frankie seemed to be having a very hard time dealing with her association with Enzo. He'd had to come to her house—and even to his—occasionally, and he always seemed to be incredibly uncomfortable, and she worried that this might have caused him to say some inappropriate things about her to the other guys—which was something that could end their long association in a very unpleasant manner.

The second thing was her own hang up that Enzo tried to be patient with her about, but he had already begun to lay down rules about it that she found very hard to comply with.

She wasn't used to having to ask permission to do anything, and he insisted that she ask him if she could do anything that didn't involve him—although he didn't impose that rule in regards to her business, which sometimes interfered with the life they'd constructed around themselves and their Dominant/submissive relationship.

Christ, she'd stopped asking her parents if she could do something when she was seven or so, but, of course, there had been no consequences from them if she decided to do something wrong.

The same could definitely not be said for her relationship with Enzo. If she thought back, she would bet there was barely a day that went by that she wasn't punished in one way or the other—usually on her bottom, but he was sometimes a creative bastard.

More often than not, she received multiple corrections, especially over the weekend, when they usually had more time together and he had more time to devote to testing the limits of her submission to him.

And asking for something—especially for herself—was something she hated to