Shayla Black: Theirs to Cherish

Sean gripped the edge of the bench, his body tensing with the pleasure. Electricity buzzed through his bloodstream. He clenched his thighs. And there was no stopping his hand as it curled into her hair, caressing her reverently as she showered him with attention, rapidly undoing his restraint.

Holy hell.

Callie took his encouragement to heart and sank his cock even deeper into her mouth until he bumped the back of her throat. She swallowed on him. He groaned out a sound of shock and fisted her inky tresses in his hands, the nearly black strands gliding softly over his fingers, as he lifted his hips and fucked her mouth in agonizing strokes.

She wasn’t exactly an expert. But Callie definitely presented a dichotomy. A girl who’d lived in a BDSM club for four years had managed to retain a sweet sort of innocence. He wanted that for his own.

Damn it, he was so far gone for her. And it would be so easy to thrust into her willing mouth and let her overwhelm him with mind-bending pleasure.

Sean tugged on her hair and growled at her. “Look at me.”

As she sucked up his length again, she cast her gaze at him through her lashes. With the few brain cells focused on something other than her luscious mouth, he could still see finality in her eyes. This was her last act with him if he didn’t change course. She needed to be wanted, and he ached for her—not only in a carnal sense. He had to bind Callie to him.

God, this was going to send trouble clawing up his ass. But she was worth it.

Swallowing a curse, he shoved his hands under her arms and tugged her onto his lap once more.

“Sir?” she whispered, both anxious and breathless.

“You say my name when I fuck you, lovely. You scream it.”

As he positioned her legs on either side of his hips, she gripped his shoulders. “But you said we weren’t ready, that you weren’t going to rush what we had simply because your cock was aching.”

The clever minx had an inexhaustible memory.

“Are you teasing me now, Callie? Or questioning me?”

“No, Sir.” She gyrated her pussy against him, and only the soft lace of whatever she wore under her skirt separated them. Her body undulated until her breasts flattened on his chest and her lips skimmed his neck. She plucked at his shirt, doing her best to remove it. Sean lost patience and ripped it away.

Almost instantly, her hot stare and curious fingers spread across his chest, tugging at his self-control. He fought to rein it back in.

Fuck, she was taking a hundred liberties without his permission, but he couldn’t bring himself to care now. The lover in her was something Callie hadn’t given to anyone in the four years she’d been at Dominion . . . except maybe Thorpe. There was some story between those two, but no one knew what. He’d asked. If the aloof bastard had fucked her, it hadn’t been recently. Whatever the case, he’d handle the situation accordingly.

And hell, it was getting hard for him to think with her all over his throbbing shaft. Everything inside him shouted to claim her in every way a man could. Then pray to fuck it would be enough to make her stay.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make us stronger,” he vowed. “You’ve thought all this time that I didn’t want you or had someone else hidden away. I mean to show you that you’re wrong.”

“Please.” She pulled back enough to look into his eyes. “At least this once.”

Sean shook his head. “The first time of many, lovely. I swear that to you.”

He flipped up her skirt and ripped away the black lace separating him from her pussy. After a satisfying tear, he tossed it to the concrete floor. Finally, Sean dug into his pocket, grateful for old habits, and yanked out a condom. With shaking hands, he shredded the foil square open and rolled it down his inflamed length, feeling her hot stare eat him up.

When he had himself sheathed, he wrapped his arms around her and tugged her closer, poising her over his cock. He slid his fingers along her hip, feeling the nick along her left side. What would it take to persuade her to tell him about that? Maybe after tonight . . .

“How long has it been for you, lovely?”

Callie looked away and gave him a particular frown he’d come to know well. It flitted across her face when he asked a painful question she wanted to avoid. “A long time.”

“I won’t go any further until you give me a precise answer.”

She squirmed in his grip, trying to lower herself onto him. Fuck if he didn’t want to let her. His body urged him to slide through her wet folds and lose his mind as her cunt gripped him. But in his current mood—one that demanded he pound her into next week—he might hurt her.

And if she admitted that she’d ever warmed Thorpe’s bed, he’d do whatever it took to eliminate the man as competition. It was obvious unspoken feelings lay between Callie and her boss.

For now, Sean waited, holding her waist tightly, preventing her from sinking onto him.

“Sean . . .” She wriggled impatiently.

“I’m not fucking you yet. What do you call me?” he ground out, sweating.

Damn it to hell, resisting the minx was teeth-grittingly tough, and he had no doubt she would tax every bit of his restraint before it was over.

Callie pleaded with him with wide blue eyes. “Sir.”

Her little entreaty made him even harder.

“How long since you’ve had a lover, Callie? I won’t ask again. I’ll just stop.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as if hating to look at an ugly reality. “No one you know here at Dominion.”

He worked to hold in his elation. “No one? Not in the last four years?”

“I tried once, but . . . it felt wrong. I stopped it. I think he was relieved.” That fact embarrassed her, but the torment on her face also said something about her loneliness. She looked so fragile in his arms. “He’s married now.”

All Sean could feel was a thrill that she would soon be his. The relief that Thorpe had never fucked her was undeniable. He had no doubt the bastard wanted to.

“I just needed to know how gentle to be, lovely. Thank you for your honesty. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

“You must think I’m broken or something.”

Sean didn’t think; he knew. But not in the way she meant.

“You’re beautiful. I’ve no doubt you’re much wanted among the Doms here. I feel fortunate that you chose me.”

Finally, she opened her eyes, and he saw tears shimmering there. That yearning on her face made her soul look so naked. Something he was saying or doing was reaching her, and a cautious joy rolled through him.

Callie threw herself onto him, arms around him, her face pressed into his neck. She inhaled him, clinging. God, how sweet she could be. Under all that sassy attitude, she hid a fragile heart. And he was finally seeing the real her. The woman inside was every bit as stunning and soft as he’d imagined.

When she would have pulled back with an apology, Sean stopped her with a kiss—and slowly began pressing her down onto his cock.

She gasped into his mouth. Her body tensed. Her pussy closed around him, so small and tight. How the fuck was he going to survive the incendiary grip of her for long?

Beneath her, he flexed his hips, desperate to bury himself as deep as he could and accustom her to the feel of him filling her completely. After only a handful of seconds, he knew she was going to become his drug of choice. After this addicting sweetness, there was no way he could do without her again.

No doubt, he would eventually get his ass handed to him for this . . .

Callie gave a little shriek and tried to lift off his cock. Sean held her in place. “Easy. Breathe.”

She wriggled, and he thought he might lose his damn mind with the way her flesh rubbed and clutched the head of his cock. Then she exhaled and slowly let the tension slip from her body.