Dark Ruler

Rumbles of restlessness vibrate my lips when I grab a fistful of her pinned up hair to command her hooded stare to widen. I harshly hold her gaze needing it in my possession the first time my cock pierces her pussy. My first thrust inside isn’t graceful or gentle. It lacks poise. Patience. However, the immediate enveloping of her white-hot heat burns away the ability to give a fuck. “Sir,” Chantal whimpers, needy and pleading already. “Can I come?” Both hands fall to grip her thighs for leverage in tandem with the answer. “No.” Her brown gaze widens in objection, bottom lip wordlessly imploring for permission to answer the call of the orgasm she’s been denying for at least an hour. She turns the begging over to her soaking wet pussy, who weeps and weeps and weeps for release only to physically receive the same denial she was given verbally. I ruthlessly pound, scolding us both for barely being able to hold on so early into our next level conquering. While this isn’t the first time I’ve experienced a woman without a barrier, it is the first time it’s ever felt like I wasn’t in control. Like one poorly timed pulse from her pussy would have me busting without any ability to stop it. The lack of rule over the situation despite the displayed dominion pushes me to pump faster. More vicious. Carve my name, my claim, my hierarchy into every sopping crevice my cock can reach. And those it can’t, cause me to me cruelly heave harder until I can. Until Chantal is savagely screaming at the top of her lungs for satisfaction. For mercy. The sight of her body flailing and jerking mixing with the sounds of her moaning and the rope twisting have me unleashing beastly roars in rapid succession. I dig my fingers deeper into her leg, bruising the beautiful brown territory, littering her flesh with marks I want to see again and again. Her suspended nature makes it easy to maintain the speed and velocity in which she takes my dick, but the greediness of her tight muscles effortlessly hands her back power I don’t think I’ll ever truly get back. I hiss and heave. Hit the hilt. Hit her clit. Have her walk the tight rope of her orgasm so closely that tears clog her lids and voice in tandem. “Please,” she weakly calls out, “please, Sir.” My balls lift to insist we go first, no longer finding enough gratification in just basking in the juices dripping free. I groan through another round of self-denial to give her hers. She will always be given hers. Her happiness, her relief, her… satiation trumps my own. “Gambe,” I growl as I tangle one arm around her frame. “Wrap them around me.” Chantal whimpers, knowing the depth it’ll force my dick to dive, and follows the instruction. “Bravissima, Mia Bella,” my breathless compliment is proceeded by me winding my free hand around her neck. “Tell me… tell me who this pussy belongs to.” “You.” The lack of reluctance causes my cock to kick in excitement. “Who your pleasure belongs to.” “You.” “Who you come for.” “You…” Chantal’s watery gaze attaches to mine. “Sir.” My fingers flex to better feel her fluttering pulse at the same time I growl her permission. “Come, Mia Bella. Come for me.” There’s the faintest breath followed by the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard in my entire fucking life. Orgasmic cries and screams and shouts have long been a favorite, but the quiet sigh of surrender that slips from her parted lips easily surpasses all of them. The sweet sonance shatters whatever strength I had and I savagely come with her.