With This Collar by Sierra Cartwright

again.
    “Mostly not.”
    When her breathing had returned to normal, he held her around the hips and guided her motions, up and down on his thick, swollen cock.
    She had little energy remaining, but this rocking felt good. Having him in her pussy completed her.
    “That’s it,” he said.
    His voice sounded huskier than she’d heard it before. His fingertips dug into her buttocks. His neck was corded. He wasn’t as controlled as he had been earlier, and that made her feel powerful.
    She put her hands in his hair and pulled firmly, like he had done to her.
    He moaned then grabbed her shoulders and forced her body downwards as he drove up into her. She responded to his surges by squeezing her internal muscles.
    “Damn!”
    She felt his cock throb as he ejaculated. He thrust a few more times, emptying his balls.
    Against his shoulder, she smiled. She’d been less inhibited with him than with any man she’d been with. And the experience had been better than any other.
    He continued to stroke her back, and she held him. Eventually she became aware of the perspiration drying on her skin.
    He took hold of her hair and eased her head back so that their gazes met.
    “Thank you,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed scening with you. You’re a very sexy sub.”
    Before she could protest, he placed a finger against her mouth.
    “Yes, you are. Sexy and a submissive girl. Deny it all you want, never play again, but that won’t change facts.”
    She shuddered, not because he was bossy, but because he was right.
    He stood with her still wrapped around him, holding on. He placed her back in the chair and said, “Stay there.”
    He crossed to the side of the room and she heard the sound of running water. Lethargic, she looked over at him. She had rarely had the experience of relaxing after sex and watching her lover. But this time, she did, and unashamedly.
    She hadn’t really had the opportunity to look at his naked body. He was as honed from the back as what she’d seen from the front. His shoulders were impossibly wide, and his legs were big and muscular, his ass gorgeously sculpted. No doubt he’d fill out a pair of jeans.
    She had a small pang of regret that their first time would also be their last.
    He disposed of the condom. When he faced her, the first full-frontal view of him took her breath away.
    His cock was still semi-hard. She remembered the salty, masculine taste of it as he’d filled her mouth while she was hanging over the horse. She shook her head to dislodge the vivid image. Each thrust had been a reminder of her helplessness. She’d been desperate to please him. She’d gratefully taken his shaft, although she usually avoided sucking a man’s penis. Yes, he’d been relentless in his demands, but the rawness of them had made something unknown flare to life inside her.
    He brought her a washcloth.
    A bit embarrassed, she reached for it. He shook his head.
    “Stand up and spread your legs.”
    She already knew better than to argue. The water was warm, and he gently cleaned her. A part of her wanted the floor to swallow her. But a bigger, more pervasive part of her liked being cared for. The entire experience with him had been a dichotomy, from scalding pain to delicious tenderness.
    “You did well,” he told her, removing the cloth. He wadded it and tossed it back towards the sink.
    “I…uhm… I’m at a bit of a loss as to what to do now. Do I say thank you and shake your hand?”
    “I’ll walk you to your car.”
    “I think I can find my own way, but thanks.”
    “Don’t try my patience,” he warned.
    She swallowed. His eyes were narrowed and his jaw was set. He might be totally naked, but he commanded the space effortlessly.
    He dressed. As he fastened his belt, she wildly wondered what it might feel like on her skin. Shaking her head, she mentally urged him to hurry.
    “Problem?”
    “No. No, Sir.”
    She was anxious to get away…before she was tempted to stay.
    “Would you hand me the