Choosing Rena by dakota trace

but she kept being distracted by the way his breath teased
her ear, the press of his body against hers, and the overwhelming
scent that was uniquely Jackson’s. Already primed from her torrid
dreams the night before, she began to tremble with need.
“Huh?”
    * * * *
    “That’s not an answer.” He lifted his
head to stare into her eyes. He groaned as he recognized the desire
on her face. “Rena?”
    Her eyes darted away from
him, her head tipping to the side, the submissive gesture rocking
him to his core. He knew he needed to clarify if she was in a D/s
relationship with another person, but he found himself hard pressed
to ignore her obvious reaction to his touch. Tracing a finger along
her shoulder, he shifted his weight, pressing her up against the
closed door, supporting her luscious body between him and the hard
surface. “You need release, don’t you ma peekôn? ”
    She shifted, obviously
torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away. “I don’t
remember being this out of control, Jackson, and I don’t like it!
This isn’t me. I don’t do this anymore…it’s just that…”
    “It’s just what? Talk to
me.” He tugged her closer - wanting to comfort her - but as soon as
their hips touched, the feel of her pussy against his raging
erection sent all thoughts of comfort from his mind. It must have
been the same for her too, because she lifted her leg, perching it
high on his hip before hooking her foot on the inside of his thigh.
The sensual move lined their sexes up until he was sure his cock
head was pressed against her clit. He bit off a low curse as his
libido went into overdrive.
    “Little vixen. Trying to
seduce me when I’m trying to have a serious discussion.” His hand
drifted over her ass, stopping briefly to squeeze, before he
wrapped his arms around her waist.
    “Talk
later!” Her plea was one he couldn’t ignore. Lifting her completely
off her feet, he nipped her ear.
    “Wrap
those luscious legs around me. I need to feel your wet pussy
rubbing against my cock.”
    Without a protest, she did
as he ordered. If it hadn’t been for his tight hold, she would’ve
blown his world as she began to grind against him, riding him
through his jeans and her shorts. Controlling her writhing form
took all his strength.
    “Please…gimme more. I need…”
    He cut off her plea with
his mouth before he bent her over the sink and fucked the living
daylights out of her. She moaned happily into his mouth, trying to
wrestle the control of the kiss away from him. With each bold
thrust of her tongue against his, she dug her nails into his
shoulders, showing him how desperately she needed the release he
could give her. When he finally tore his mouth away from hers, she
was breathing raggedly.
    “ Merde, ma peekôn. You pack one
helluva a punch.” She shivered in his arms, as he nosed aside the
braids hanging down her neck, trying to find his
control.
    “Please…oh my God, Sir…I need…” She squirmed against his hold,
attempting to get close enough she could probably crawl inside of
his skin if he let her. When she tugged at his hair, he growled,
his desire to wait until he had answers dissolving like dust in the
wind.
    “That’s it. Tell me what
you need…” He heard the harsh words as if they came from a
distance. He accented them with nips and kisses to her throat, all
the while rocking her against him, aiding her in her search for
release.
    “Jackson!” A barely
muffled scream against his shoulder enraged his Dom. She was
supposed to be calling him Master or Sir. She wouldn’t come until
she acknowledged who – no, what he was. He buried his fingers in
her braids, pulling back hard on them, knowing the sting would
probably remind her of the last time he’d warmed her bottom.
Meeting his gaze, she trembled, her parted mouth soundlessly
forming the words he needed to hear.
    “No,
that’s not good enough. You won’t hide from this. You’ll
acknowledge what I am. I’m no man