Dimitri's Forbidden Submissive (Submissive's Wish) by Ann Mayburn

well, they had the same parts and Rya found the endless variety beautiful. More than that, it gave her a great deal of pleasure to make a woman feel beautiful, to let her know that her pussy, no matter what it looked like, was gorgeous. It always surprised Rya how many women seemed stunned at her open admiration. She loved it when she could see the shift in their expression from apprehension to near-wonder as Rya worshiped them with her tongue.
    Dimitri slid his thumb easily between her outer labia and through the wetness there. That was yet another hang up she had. Was she too wet? What some guys called a sloppy pussy? Did Dimitri like the fact that she had more natural lubricant than most women? Did he…
    Her thoughts splintered into a thousand pieces of light as Dimitri leaned forward and began to lick her pussy. Unlike most men who just dove right in, he took his time, lapping at her while making an almost constant low, growling noise. She shivered and clutched at his head, unable to keep her hands out of his hair. Something about holding onto him like this made her feel safe and she widened her stance further, trying to give him as much room as possible to access her with his wonderful, sinful tongue.
    Jesus Christ, Dimitri had a really long tongue, and when he gently parted her swollen lips to lick at her center she trembled at the electric sparks of pleasure screaming through her body and lighting up her nervous system.
    “Master,” she said in a half sigh, half pleading moan.
    He didn’t respond, just continued to explore her sex, avoiding her clit until she was wiggling, trying to get him to touch her there.
    He stopped abruptly, then stood, towering over her. “Go on the bed, on your back.”
    She wanted to touch him, to remove his clothes, to do something to please him but his stern gaze had her meekly complying with his demands. Shit, it was like he had some kind of mental control over her, making her obey him without thought. She lay back on the bed and watched him as he went to the closet, her body restless with sexual hunger as she waited for him. He returned with a large black bag and she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of what she was pretty sure was his toy bag.
    Looking up at her, he gave her that almost grin of his. “You have any body issues?”
    “What?”
    He frowned, then said, “I tie you up, any places would be hurt? Any injuries?”
    “Oh, you mean do I have any injuries that might hurt if you tie me up. Nope.” She grinned at him. “In fact, I’m pretty flexible. I do yoga.”
    “Good.”
    He pulled out two odd looking pieces of leather. They almost looked like laced up black leather restraints that would be worn over the forearms, but were much bigger. He must have seen her confusion, because he gave a soft chuckle.
    “What is your safeword, little Rya.”
    “Cookie.”
    Looking up from his bag of tricks, he arched a brow. “Cookie? Like the treat?”
    “Yeah. It’s kind of a joke, but I’ll always remember it.”
    “Explain.”
    “Well, I grew up with a bunch of boys. Most of the club members had sons, with only myself and four other girls, so trash talking was part of my life.” She caught his confused frown. “Trash talking is like…when guys say things to each other that sound mean but aren’t. Like—shit this is hard to explain—like if we were playing cards and you got a bad hand and complained about it, your friends would make fun of you and call you a whiner or a girl or something. Well, if someone is acting weak and whiny, we ask them if they want a cookie. Like a little kid that needs a sweet to make them feel better. Am I making any sense?”
    He gave her a look that was hard for her to decipher, but nodded. “ Da . I understand. When I spar with my friends we trade insults.”
    “You spar? What style? Can I spar with you sometime?”
    Looking completely nonplussed, he stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “You want to spar with me ?”
    Without