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I saw stars. Then his cock found my soaked slit and I forgot about the spots and lack of air and everything else. He slid into me with a satisfied grunt. The sound alone had me teetering on the edge of coming.
    â€œStay still, girl,” he said and I went limp.
    â€œYes, Tim.” Not docile by nature, it felt right anyway. I absorbed his motions, accepted the hard length of him. I didn’t move back against him. I took him in.
    Tighter and then tighter still. I felt my body gearing up for release. I wanted it and yet I wanted to keep it in the distance. In the future. So I could have him here this way longer. Or better yet, he could have me as he wanted me for just a bit more time.
    â€œFuck, you are so tight. So tight. And your ass …” he trailed off as the first ripples of orgasm shot through me. Halfway through, he pulled his cock from me and I cried out. “Just wait. Shh.”
    And he shoved into my ass. The pain was intense. It ate up my pleasure and then somehow enhanced it. I came long and hard. The pain flowing through me, dancing with the pleasure that threatened to overtake me. I let my head hang limp as he clutched at me. His fingers bit into my imprisoned wrists. His free hand yanked at my hips. When he smacked my ass hard enough to make me bite my tongue, a single tear slipped free of me. But he was fucking me so hard and the pain was so good. I came again on a sob.
    Tim lost his rhythm. His body beat against mine in a frantic tattoo and he came. His teeth found my shoulder and nearly broke skin.
    We stayed that way for a moment. Me teetering on the edge of the receptacle. Him buried deep in my ass. Softening but still hard enough to fill me.
    â€œDid I hurt you?”
    â€œJust enough,” I laughed.
    â€œCoffee’s cold, I bet.”
    â€œHave a microwave?” I asked. His hands smoothed over my bottom. The spot where he’d struck me was hot and sensitive. He patted it hard enough to make me jump a bit.
    â€œI do. Will you stay?”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œBetter yet, come home with me?”
    My body grew hotter. I didn’t answer. I pulled free of him. My wrists sore and chafed. My ass sore and wet. My pussy ready for more of him. All of me ready for more of him. The way he was. The way he took from me. The way that made me feel. He studied my face. Steel gray eyes. Serious face. Easy smile. Then his lips compressed and he reached out. He grabbed my arms and gave me a squeeze. Hard enough to hurt.
    â€œYou’re coming home with me.”
    â€œYes, Tim,” I said and smiled.

Mistress To Slave
by Morwenna Drake
    Atia settled herself on the recliner so that the cool Italian breezes could play across her overheated skin. The bustling sound of the Forum drifted in through the windows and Atia breathed a sigh of contentment. She was glad to be away from the Northern Provinces and her father’s olive groves. Life in the country was dull, with only a few servants to tend her needs while their villa in Rome afforded all luxuries a young woman could desire.
    She heard Marcus’s gruff voice announcing his arrival long before his heavy footfalls brought him into the room. Her feelings about Marcus were mixed – she knew of him as a magnificent businessman, his trading skills unrivalled, and he had always been decidedly attentive to her at each of their meetings. Her skin would tingle under his heavily-lidded gaze. Yet she couldn’t help viewing him with a sense of despondency – as would any woman who met the man arranged to be her husband in a business deal.
    Before he entered the room, Atia picked up a book of Juvenal’s Satires and swiftly immersed herself in its pages, so that she appeared engrossed when he entered. Marcus strode over to the window without greeting; Atia matched his coolness and feigned concentration on her book, watching him out of the corner of her eye. After a few moments, he came to stand behind her,