Hottie Read Online Free

Miss Morris.” His lips found the pulse point beneath her ear, and his tongue swept over it, feasting on her neck. “So much power.”
    “I know you’re strong, Hottie.” Digging her fingers into his broad shoulders, she balanced herself and leaned her head back. “You don’t need to remind me.”
    “Not my power, sweetheart.” He pressed her against the kitchen wall. “The power is all yours.”
    He tore the tank at the scooped neck and straight down the center. Her breasts sprang free, and he captured a nipple between his lips and the other between his fingers. She moaned and arched her back, tilting her hips and grinding her pussy over his abs.
    “You need to be shown how a real man should treat a woman. Miss Phoebe Morris, you deserve to be cherished.”
    Suckling a straining peak, he moved his mouth to the soft skin beside it and staked his claim. She groaned in acceptance, holding his head and pulling him close.
    “Maybe you have a tough exterior, but the tenderness inside is impossible to hide.” He kissed the pink skin that responded to his touch at an amazingly quick pace. “You will never again give up everything to please some asshole and his ego. A proper man should enable you to grow stronger and more successful, not steal your self-worth.”
    “Mmm,” she purred as he stroked up the outside of her thigh. “Can we talk later?”
    “What? You using me for my body and not my mind, Miss Morris?”
    “Is that bad?”
    “No,” he groaned, slowly kissing every inch of her neck. “But, I should at least be rewarded with a feast fit for a king.”
    Phoebe nodded, curved her back, and dropped her chin atop his head, holding herself slightly off his body. The warmth of her cunt moved off his stomach, and he slipped his hand inside her wet panties, caressing the soft curls covering her center.
    “The panties need to go,” he said, sliding a finger beneath the material and between her swollen folds.
    “Yes,” she agreed.
    “Trust me?”
    “Yes,” she echoed, trying to rip the undergarment from her body, but unable to find the coordination to complete the tear.
    “Yes, what?” He stilled her hands, shaking his head.
    Phoebe looked into his eyes, searching for an answer.
    “Yes, what?” Hottie repeated, nibbling on her lower lip
    “Yes, Sir?”
    “Are you asking?”
    “No, Sir,” she breathed against his mouth, moving against him and offering him more of her body, urging his touch deeper within her.
    “Good girl,” Hottie replied. “It’s Sir or Master Dane, Phoebe.”
    Master Dane? She liked the way it sounded. Her stomach clenched in anticipation of his next statement. Not only did he accept responsibility, he did so demanding respect.
    “When you are naked in my presence, I own your body, and I will do as I please with it. If you do not agree, you must say so now.”
    Fear dueled with excitement. She barely knew the man. But she wanted him. She needed him. Searching his eyes, she found the reassurance required to consent.
    “I agree,” she said.
    “I lead,” he answered, between biting and soothing her kiss-swollen lip. “I tell you when and how. You said yes, the decision is now all mine.”
    Excitement zinged to Phoebe’s core. Her cream-coated channel gripped his thick finger and begged for more. No man had ever taken responsibility for her pleasure. No one had cared.
    “Okay,” she whispered, closing her eyes and inhaling his scent. “It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”
    Hottie placed her flat on the kitchen table, his finger still hooked inside her pussy, stroking the recesses of her most private spots. Lowering his head, he kissed the darkening skin beside her nipple and soothed the deepening bruise. His hair tickled the sensitive area on her heated torso as he licked down the center. Taking little detours, he covered every part of her stomach, continuously playing with the torn elastic of her panties that was still looped about her thighs.
    He added a second finger,