Balancing her weight on the heels and balls of her bare feet, she pulled the shirt over her head. Her slave training was evident in the way she held herself—legs straight, knees unlocked, gaze trained on him. But despite the darkness of her past seeping in, her brown eyes shone through it.
Fuck him, but he loved her inner strength, loved how her chest lifted and arched, her shoulders squared, and how her attention homed in on him as if the movement of her hands was merely reflex. He felt her submission at a molecular level, every cell in his body gravitating toward her, his muscles hungrily aware and throbbing to take what was his. But he remained where he was, three feet away, and devoured her every move.
Keeping her face and chest angled toward him with her chin drawn in, she slowly and gracefully removed her bra, jeans, and panties. Then she straightened, the alignment of her head and neck vertical, arms hanging at her sides without stiffness, and let him stare.
He stood frozen in the wake of her beauty, absorbing her nudity, her willingness, in the place he’d meticulously rebuilt, amid the trees he’d planted and cared for, every seed, yard of dirt, and precious memory put here for her.
Long black hair fell over the slender lines of her shoulders, framing round, perfectly-shaped tits. The curl of her fingers against her thighs drew his gaze to the feminine curves of hips, the flat expanse of stomach, and the shadow of hair that had grown back between her legs.
A growl escaped his throat, and he grabbed himself through the jeans, running a palm against his aching cock. She was built for him, every dip, arch, muscle, and bone, all his to worship and protect.
He prowled toward her, soaking in her quickening breaths and the way her gaze tracked him as he circled her. When he stopped behind her, her toes flexed in the grass. He took his time examining her sinful ass and strong, sinuous backbone before dropping the belt and sweeping his hands down her arms.
The marks had faded to yellowish bruises, and he hadn’t needed to cut her again. The first time had been a strong enough statement, and she exuded the timid slave act like a pro.
“Matias…” She shuddered, and it wasn’t an act. “I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of me? Or this?” He hooked an arm around her and squeezed a nipple, hard enough to make her whimper. “Are you scared to want this?”
“Yes.” Her voice wavered. “All of it.”
He put his nose in her hair and slid his fingers around the sides of her breasts, the dips in her waist, and lower to cup and stroke her pussy. A rush of warmth chased his pulse, his erection bent painfully in his jeans. His fingers quaked and stiffened in his desperation for her.
“What did I tell you about fear?” He pressed his dick against her ass and lightly caressed her damp folds.
“It will haunt—” She cried out as he pinched her clit, but she kept her hands at her sides and didn’t pull away. “It will haunt me until I step inside and show it my teeth.”
“I’ll be right here with you. Always.”
The thudding of his heart beat in sync with the pulsing in his cock. She had no idea the power she held over him, didn’t know how dry his mouth had gone or that his insides heated to a fevered level of dizziness. Nothing or no one had ever affected him the way she did. She was it for him, his past and future, his weakness and strength, his meaning for everything.
Brushing her hair to the side, he tiptoed fingers up and down her abs, inching close to her pussy without touching, and back up, lingering beneath her tits before dipping down again. With his mouth at her ear, he nipped her skin above the collar, flicked his tongue, and inhaled her warm scent until her head dropped back on his shoulder, breaths catching.
Her face rolled toward him, and she rubbed their cheeks together, her parted lips searching. He captured her mouth in a collision of gasps and hungry tongues that was neither soft nor gentle. He chased and hunted and fed, his fingers sinking between her legs, thrusting hard, and coaxing a moan from deep within her.
Her lower body clamped around him, her neck angling her closer as she tried to deepen the kiss. Her urgency spurred him on, making him hotter, greedier, more frantic.
“Matias, please.” She arched into him, her ass grinding against his painful cock.
He tore his mouth away, his heart tripping at a dangerous level.
“Bend forward.” He kissed her shoulder and stepped back, keeping his tone silken, yet inflexible. “Hands on your ankles. Spine straight.”
She followed his command to perfection, and he swallowed a groan. Yanking off his shirt, he used it to wipe the perspiration from his brow. Then he tossed it and knelt behind her.
He tried to start slow, his hands exploring her ass and legs, but the more he touched the more he needed. Her skin was so tight, so fucking smooth he wanted to lick and bite every inch of her. So he did, gliding his tongue and teeth across the backs of her thighs as he teased her soaking cunt with his fingers.
The hitch in her breath amped his pulse, but he kept his movements slow, sensual, savoring her goosebumps and the flex of her muscles as she anticipated the path of his lips. She was so fucking responsive he couldn’t wait any longer. He buried his mouth between her legs.
“So damn wet, mi vida. Such a hungry slut.”
With her head hanging upside down, she snarled through clenched teeth. “I’m not—”
“A slut, my gorgeous girl, is brave enough to pursue her own definitions of pain and pleasure. She’s willing to explore and search for what she enjoys rather than shun her desires like a dirty secret.” He bit the delicate skin between her legs, wrenching a yelp from
