Page 9 of Her Patron
“See?” Miquela taunted her. Sette’s hips twitched. “This little pussy is begging for it.” Her other hand came up to grip Sette’s hip, holding her in place. “She wants it. Doesn’t she? Wants me to fuck her so good.”
The dirty words were a shock to Sette’s system. So direct. Socrude. But by God, they worked. Her body softened. Miquela’s words were a key unlocking something. The tension in Sette’s shoulders melted away. She stopped fighting it. Her hips rocked back against Miquela’s hand, meeting each thrust of her fingers.
“Yeah,” Sette breathed, her gaze still locked on the massive dildo. “Fuck.”
Miquela’s fingers curled inside her, stroking that sensitive front wall. Sette moaned, her head falling forward. She was fucking Miquela’s fingers now, hard, chasing the pleasure building low in her belly, all while staring at the tool that was meant to replace them. It was still intimidating. But now, it also looked possible.
She knew there was only one way out of this with her pride still intact.
“Ah, perhaps better for a newcomer.” Miquela’s fingers were still inside Sette as she selected a smooth one that was a good bit smaller than the monster. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll fuck you wide open anyway.”
Sette sat up. Miquela was forced to remove her fingers. “I’m on top.”
Miquela watched curiously as Sette attempted to figure out the straps and how to get them on a woman still lying down. “Do I ever get to get on top of you? Come on.”
The strap-on landed on Miquela’s bare stomach. “First, I’m riding it. Then you can do whatever you want to me.” She checked that. “My pussy, that is. I don’t do butt stuff on a first date.”
Laughing, Miquela guided the straps toward her legs. “I can’t wait.”
“What? For the butt stuff?” How many dates did this woman think she was getting?
“No. To watch your face as I fuck you.” Before Sette could protest, Miquela said, “Just because you’re riding doesn’t mean this horse doesn’tcorcoveando.”
Sette didn’t knowthatword, but she got the gist. Especially with that mischievous look on Miquela’s face.
Miquela lifted her hips. Sette fed the straps around her thighs in a quick, efficient motion. She cinched the straps tight at Miquela’s hips. The silicone toy stood rigid. Sette pretended that she knew what she was doing.
Sette’s gaze dropped. Her own pussy ached. She leaned back, bracing a hand on Miquela’s knee. Her other hand slid between her own legs. She was already wet, but she needed more. She circled her clit with her fingertip as she moaned. Miquela watched, her eyes taking in everything while her hands rested lightly on Sette’s thighs. Waiting.For me.To fuck her.
Sette positioned herself to prove a point. The blunt head nudged against her entrance. She took a breath… and lowered her hips.
An inch. A tight, aching stretch. Sette’s hands flew to Miquela’s breasts, bracing herself. Her palms flattened against Miquela’s nipples, which instantly peaked. She paused, breathing through the sensation. Miquela’s hands gripped Sette’s hips.
“Sí,” Miquela whispered. “Así.”
Sette sank. Certainly, Miquela filled her like this. Deeper than fingers. Unyielding. Her head fell back, a long moan escapingher lips. Her inner muscles clenched around the strap-on. Miquela’s hips twitched beneath her with a shallow reminder of what they were supposed to do together.
Sette’s grip tightened on Miquela’s breasts. The base of the dildo ground against her own clit with each pass. Another moan. This one louder. More desperate. She was in control, but Miquela was in charge.
“That’s it,” Miquela whispered. “Now, show me those beautiful breasts.”
Sette reached behind her back. A quick flick of her fingers, and the bra hooks gave way. She pulled down the straps. Her breasts were free, pale against Miquela’s sun-kissed skin.
Miquela’s gaze was fire. “Perfectos,” she whispered.
Sette’s hands returned to Miquela’s chest, but this time it was different. Skin on skin. Her nipples dragged against Miquela’s as she moved again with a slow, torturous rhythm that only made her hotter. She rose until only the tip of the strap-on remained inside her, then sank back down, taking it all in one fluid motion. Each downward grind sent a jolt through her mound. She set the pace. This was her show. Her ride.
Then Miquela’s hands tightened on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh. She pulled Sette down harder. The impact sent a gasp from her lips. The pace quickened.She’s taking over…
Sette tensed. But then Miquela’s thumb found her clit, circling it as she guided Sette’s hips into a faster, deeper movement. The protest died in Sette’s throat. Her body took over. Her mind went blank. All that existed was the driving thrust, the unyielding fullness, the relentless pressure on her clit.
“Sí,” Miquela grunted, her own hips beginning to snap up to meet Sette’s descent. “Así.Tómalo todo.”
The power shifted. Sette was no longer riding. She was being ridden.She’s fucking me even though I’m on top. Her breasts bounced with each thrust. Her head was thrown back, her mouthopen. She was flying apart, and Miquela was the only one holding the pieces.
Something broke inside Sette. She pushed herself up, straightening her spine, disengaging her hands from Miquela’s body. The new angle sent a fresh wave of pleasure through her. She sat tall, a queen on a throne, her back a long, elegant curve. The metal clasp in her hair, already loosened from their exertions, finally gave way. It clattered onto the floor, lost and forgotten.
Her hair tumbled down. She threw her head back to shake it out, but the strands stuck to the sweat on her neck and chest. She looked down at Miquela as a raw creature who could not be tamed.
