Onyx Mafia: Insatiable - Episode 7: (Lia and Meghan) (Onyx Mafia: Insatiable Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A
Author: Nova Black
to stop. Come here.”
I did, shivering to hear Brenda, my Brenda say that to me. I was beyond aroused, holding back a flood.
She was of equal height to me and placed the long handle of the whip on my shoulder, pressed down.
I knelt.
She looked down. “Over a decade I waited, patiently. I am not so patient anymore. Do you understand?”
I nodded, wanting to bury my face in the folds of her skirt, inhale and never let it go.
She lifted my head with the handle. “You have allured me, teased me, and made promises left painfully, woefully unfulfilled. You’ve slept with many, many other women, all while professing your undying love to me.”
The bundled coil pushed my head closer to her crotch.
“I think you have a debt to repay.”
And I did. Never had I wanted to please anyone more. I lifted her flowing skirt, inhaling her scent. She pulled it over me and I was inside the cave of legs and patterned cloth, my only escape the thin pair of silken panties, yellow and beckoning, a beacon lighting her brown skin.
I pulled it down and found her eagerness, tasted it with my tongue. Moaned, going deeper when I felt the whip uncoil and whisper down my spine to play with the cuff of my backside.
She sat on the bed, pulling me along on my knees. I heard another bite of an apple and groaned into her at the casualness of it. That I had known her but not known her was making me lose my shit, my hard earned skills fleeing me.
How had I not noticed this side of her?
The whip swung, tapped me lightly. “Don’t stop to sightsee, Lia. I thought you were good at this?”
Pride made me redouble my efforts, mouth and tongue paying homage. I smiled into her as the whip stilled, muted sounds of pleasure coming through clenched teeth.
My tongue danced inside her, nose filled with her scent. Ah, she was so wet. I pulled her underwear off, sliding them over her heels.
She pulled me up from the shrouds of her skirt and kissed me. There was no giving of pleasure in this kiss. She took. She took what she wanted and whenever my mouth moved to respond the whip would flick me in warning.
I wanted to touch her, the whip stirring whenever my hands dared to roam. The juice from the apple mingled with her flavor and my eyes closed at the indescribable hijacking of my senses: apples and Brenda, the sea and Brenda, roses and Brenda, salt and sand and sun and Brenda.
Brenda, Brenda…
“Open your mouth, Lia.” I did, and she placed the other apple between my teeth, shoving it far into my mouth.
She smiled. “I like that look. Don’t bite too hard.”
She made me lay across the red raw silk covers on the bed, my arms above my head, my legs spread. A bright red apple in my mouth.
She watched me, face calm, pressing the handle of the whip firmly against my sex, the length trailing over my stomach. And my hips began to move. She kept the pressure firm as I fucked myself against it, the juice from the apple sliding down my throat.
Her face, Jesus. Her face was stone; it gave me nothing and it drove me wild. Who is this woman?
She leaned over. “Your word is cinnamon, correct?”
I nodded, wondering who told her. Whom she asked.
The whip slicked down my thigh. She smiled, standing tall. “If you want me to stop, let the apple drop. Nod if you understand.”
I did, my hands aching to touch her. The things I could do to her, needed to do to her.
She straddled me, something glinting in her hands. “Guess what I found.” The click of handcuffs around my wrist, attaching to the bedposts made my breath come in long shuddering gasps.
“On the first day of riding school I learned how to use a whip gently, without leaving a mark.” She leaned in, her wetness coating my stomach, buttoned down shirt giving secret glimpses of warm skin.
“On the last day I learned how to flay the skin off an apple.”
Fuck me . I couldn’t move, my attention on her every breath.
She smiled and I lost myself in the
I did, shivering to hear Brenda, my Brenda say that to me. I was beyond aroused, holding back a flood.
She was of equal height to me and placed the long handle of the whip on my shoulder, pressed down.
I knelt.
She looked down. “Over a decade I waited, patiently. I am not so patient anymore. Do you understand?”
I nodded, wanting to bury my face in the folds of her skirt, inhale and never let it go.
She lifted my head with the handle. “You have allured me, teased me, and made promises left painfully, woefully unfulfilled. You’ve slept with many, many other women, all while professing your undying love to me.”
The bundled coil pushed my head closer to her crotch.
“I think you have a debt to repay.”
And I did. Never had I wanted to please anyone more. I lifted her flowing skirt, inhaling her scent. She pulled it over me and I was inside the cave of legs and patterned cloth, my only escape the thin pair of silken panties, yellow and beckoning, a beacon lighting her brown skin.
I pulled it down and found her eagerness, tasted it with my tongue. Moaned, going deeper when I felt the whip uncoil and whisper down my spine to play with the cuff of my backside.
She sat on the bed, pulling me along on my knees. I heard another bite of an apple and groaned into her at the casualness of it. That I had known her but not known her was making me lose my shit, my hard earned skills fleeing me.
How had I not noticed this side of her?
The whip swung, tapped me lightly. “Don’t stop to sightsee, Lia. I thought you were good at this?”
Pride made me redouble my efforts, mouth and tongue paying homage. I smiled into her as the whip stilled, muted sounds of pleasure coming through clenched teeth.
My tongue danced inside her, nose filled with her scent. Ah, she was so wet. I pulled her underwear off, sliding them over her heels.
She pulled me up from the shrouds of her skirt and kissed me. There was no giving of pleasure in this kiss. She took. She took what she wanted and whenever my mouth moved to respond the whip would flick me in warning.
I wanted to touch her, the whip stirring whenever my hands dared to roam. The juice from the apple mingled with her flavor and my eyes closed at the indescribable hijacking of my senses: apples and Brenda, the sea and Brenda, roses and Brenda, salt and sand and sun and Brenda.
Brenda, Brenda…
“Open your mouth, Lia.” I did, and she placed the other apple between my teeth, shoving it far into my mouth.
She smiled. “I like that look. Don’t bite too hard.”
She made me lay across the red raw silk covers on the bed, my arms above my head, my legs spread. A bright red apple in my mouth.
She watched me, face calm, pressing the handle of the whip firmly against my sex, the length trailing over my stomach. And my hips began to move. She kept the pressure firm as I fucked myself against it, the juice from the apple sliding down my throat.
Her face, Jesus. Her face was stone; it gave me nothing and it drove me wild. Who is this woman?
She leaned over. “Your word is cinnamon, correct?”
I nodded, wondering who told her. Whom she asked.
The whip slicked down my thigh. She smiled, standing tall. “If you want me to stop, let the apple drop. Nod if you understand.”
I did, my hands aching to touch her. The things I could do to her, needed to do to her.
She straddled me, something glinting in her hands. “Guess what I found.” The click of handcuffs around my wrist, attaching to the bedposts made my breath come in long shuddering gasps.
“On the first day of riding school I learned how to use a whip gently, without leaving a mark.” She leaned in, her wetness coating my stomach, buttoned down shirt giving secret glimpses of warm skin.
“On the last day I learned how to flay the skin off an apple.”
Fuck me . I couldn’t move, my attention on her every breath.
She smiled and I lost myself in the
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