Burn (Songs of Submission #5)(36)

“Get in,” he said.

I complied. He turned the faucets off before following.

“Now,” he said, putting his arms around me and pushing me against the wall of the tub. “Put your elbows here.” He placed them on the marble shelf outside the tub, where one might put candles or soap if one wasn’t busy giving up control of one’s body. He moved his hands over my br**sts, my stomach, and my thighs. He parted them until my knees were above the water, resting my feet on the ledges at each side of the tub. My hips floated, leaving my pelvis just below the surface.

Jonathan stroked between my legs, letting his thumbs course the length of my cleft and onto my clit. Then his hands moved over my sides to my br**sts again, stroking my ni**les with his thumbs, and back down. He repeated his movements up and down my body until I groaned.

He pressed his middle finger to my ass. “Don’t clench. Easy. Relax.”

I tried to think accepting thoughts as he stroked me again and slid his thumb in my pu**y. I let out an ah. He hooked a finger in my ass**le. I didn’t tighten, keeping myself as loose as I could.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“Good.”

He thrust two fingers in before I’d even finished the word. I cried out. It was good. Very good. He drew them out then thrust them back.

“You’re ready, and you’re mine.” He took out his fingers. “Flip.”

His pressure on my body told me what to do. I put my hands on the ledge, and my knees on the benches. My ass and sex hitched up, my ni**les touching the cold edge of the tub. The sting of his hand slapping my ass caught me by surprise, and I yipped.

“Shh. Don’t make me gag you.”

“Yes, sir.”

I felt his mouth on my cheeks, kissing across them. Then his tongue worked its magic on my pu**y, my clit. Everything tingled. He put his tongue on my ass**le, and I thought I would die of pleasure.

“You’re clenching.” He picked up a hotel bottle of something I couldn’t identify, because I dared not look around.

I felt something liquid on my back. His hand spread it over me, between my cheeks, lubricating me. When he slid two fingers in my behind that time, I didn’t clench because the feeling was much different. I was aroused everywhere, and it became a wordless harmony, a counterpoint note, its existence completing the sensations in my clit.

“Better,” he said. “You’re doing well.”

“Thank you.”

He pulled his fingers out and pushed my ass down a little. I felt his dick at my crack, and his thumb dug into one ass cheek, opening me to him.

“Stay relaxed.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it. I have you. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“I trust you.” I meant it, and as if sensing my sincerity, he put the head of his c**k on my ring muscle as I tried very, very hard not to reject it.

He pushed forward. I tried not to scream as the head went in. I held my voice behind my teeth, letting the rumble fill up and fall down my throat.

“Easy. Easy.”

“Okay,” I squeaked.

“You’re in control for now. Move however you need to. Whatever pace is good. Just stay relaxed. Focus on me. Trust me.” He reached around and stroked my front from neck to clit and back again. I couldn’t move for fear of the pain. “Breathe. Breathe, then move.”

I didn’t think I’d be able to move again. He put his hands all over me, relaxing me, reminding me he was there. I thought compliant thoughts. I accepted his calm, his patience, his trust, and moved into the pain a little. I was better lubed than I realized, and he slid farther in. It didn’t hurt more, which calmed me. I pushed toward him again, and he went in.

His hands stopped massaging and pressed open my cheeks. “How are you feeling?”

“It doesn’t hurt as much as it did.”

“In a minute, it won’t hurt at all. It’s going to be the complete opposite.” His voice contained nothing but surety and confidence, and that made me feel safe enough to push into him again. He tensed so that he slid all the way in. He pulled out slowly, coating my ass in unexpected pleasure.

“Ah, that’s good, goddess. Very good.”

I pushed him back in, and I felt full, open, vulnerable, and cared for all at once. But I did not feel pain. It had gone away and been replaced by something wholly new. A harmony. The note was different, but the song was the same.

As if sensing that, Jonathan took control, pulling his c**k from my ass and pushing it back in again. He waited.

“Do it,” I said. “Sir. Please. Fuck me in the ass.”

“Your filthy mouth,” he growled. “I love it.”

He slapped my ass and took complete control, thrusting against me, holding my cheeks open so he could get all the way in. I grunted. The feeling of being stretched past my limit was overwhelming, as powerful as relinquishing myself to his pace. The water splashed around us, still hot, still soapy. We leaned into it until only my ass was over the surface. He reached under the water, to my pu**y, and hooked two fingers in me, using the grip as leverage. The heel of his hand rubbed my clit every time he pounded my ass.

“You’ve got it, Monica.”

“Sir, may I come?”

“No.”

“Oh, God.”