Kitten

I dig my toes into the cushion of the couch, feeling the catch of the supple velvet through my socks. I will myself to focus on that fleeting latch instead of the clawing need in my chest. 

It’s not working. 

I try again anyway, digging my toes in harder, curling them and pressing down into the soft cushion. I’m perched on the arm of the couch, my back to the desk against the wall, but even without a line of sight, the tapping of his keyboard reminds me he’s there. Still working on something or another that needs to get done. It’s important to him, therefore it’s important to me. 

But the need doesn’t care when it takes on a life of its own, becoming something else entirely. Someone else entirely. The feeling rattles me, and I often can’t resist loosening those restraints and releasing her in all her splendor. 

So I do. 

She does not hesitate to shake off the confines of my control and take charge. Her desire presses me into the corners of my mind until I take a backseat to her voracity, like an out of body experience in which I’m relegated to observe instead of act. My body moves on auto pilot as my toes uncurl and my legs stretch out before swinging to the floor and standing.

She moves with fluid grace. Her primal drive reads like prey, her size and submission seeming to ask you to do as you please with her. But in this she is twice-over the predator. First, she’s conquered me; pulled the strings to gain control. Now, him.

We arrive at the desk, across the room in barely a breath and we’re at his back. My hands settle on his shoulders, and the only sign that he is surprised by my presence is the brief tensing of his muscles under my hands. But the surprise falls away quickly and he has an admonishment for my interruption ready on the tip of his tongue. It never makes it out though because as he turns his head just slightly to meet my eyes, he sees her. 

It’s not me, his partner and equal, looking back at him. It’s his kitten looking through my eyes, wide and glassy with the submission I’m offering—no, demanding—he take. I know the exact moment he realizes it as a slow, grin curves his full lips.

“Daddy?”

Her need drives my voice up an octave, and takes on this persuasive pouty lilt that always leaves me shaking my head a little. 

He turns away from the work he’s trying to finish to face me, my hands falling from his shoulders as he does so. He takes in my tall socks, short shorts and too-big t-shirt. His assessment catches at my mouth and the shift is nearly imperceptible but she doesn’t miss it. Her victory is assured when his eyes take on a sharp hungry gleam and he meets my gaze. 

He sighs. Reluctant, but committed. His words reflect the latter but his tone is all the former—a challenge. A choice. 

“I’ve got to finish this, kitten. Not just now.” 

This would have been enough to deter me had I not let her out. 

I smile, but I didn’t decide to. My tongue darts out over my bottom lip before I bite it. 

“Daddy,” she says again, using my mouth. I release my lip, pouting it out just a little now that it’s wet and swollen from being held between my teeth. I take a step forward, between his knees with just a few inches between our bodies. This game is not about physically being caught, and it works best when I am as close as I can possibly be. It’s his mind I must catch, persuade. And when I am this close to him, the distinction between her and me… it melts away. We are one. One raw, aching need. One goal. 

To be conquered. 

Almost instinctively, his hands come to rest on my hip, hiking up my t-shirt to touch me directly. His thumbs brush up my sides and I sigh at the tenderness of his touch. In response, his grip tightens, but his gaze softens. He tugs my hips forward, closer, and he inhales. 

“You smell so good,” his words are soft, not a whisper but certainly not the false determination of moments ago. 

My hands run through his hair, his eyes closing briefly at the sensation of my nails across his scalp, and entwine my fingers at the back of his neck. I grin down at him, knowing I’ll only be taller than him for a moment if this goes how I want it to.

“Do I?” I ask, tugging his head forward toward my breasts, covered only by my t-shirt. 

He arches a brow, but follows my grip and buries his head in my chest, inhaling me as his hands slide from my hips to the small of my back and then beneath the waistband of my shorts so he’s gripping my ass. We both groan—me at the way it feels when he grabs me like this, and him at the realization that I’ve got no panties on.

“You seem to have forgotten something,” he tells me, voice muffled by my top and vibrating through my chest in a way that makes my spine tingle. 

“Oh?” I ask absently, trying to focus on the places he’s touching me, the feelings it stirs up. 

His hands flex, gripping my ass cheeks and pulling them apart a little to test me. I don’t react. At this, he releases one cheek and runs a hand down my asscrack. When I tense a little, he keeps going until the tips of his fingers reach my pussy. He doesn’t even have to push inside me to realize how wet I am already and he chuckles. 

“Oh, kitten,” he says as he pulls back to look at me, shaking his head. He’s not surprised, but it always seems to delight him in the most unexpected way when I come to him like this, “Come here.” 

“But Daddy,” I pout, but I know my eyes are smiling, “You have work to do.” 

Disbelief flashes in his gaze briefly, then amusement, then realization. He’s been caught. 

But the look in his eyes holds every bit the predatory gleam. 

“And we both know,” he tells me as he tugs me down onto his lap, my thighs bracketing his hips and pulling our bodies flush so I can’t miss the press of his hard cock against me, “the only thing I’m going to be getting done this afternoon…” his voice trails off as he pulls my head toward him, mouth latching onto my neck just over my now-racing pulse. 

I moan, the sound needy and choked, but victorious. I tip my head back into his waiting hand that has slipped up my spine just for this reason. To catch me in my submission.

He kisses up the side of my neck, across my jaw, and when his mouth is just a breath from mine, he pauses. Waits. 

“…is me.” I finish his sentence in a whisper as anticipation roars in my ears. 

His mouth crushes mine and as he pulls the air from my lungs with the force of his kiss, I feel like I can breathe again as his kiss pulls me fully back into myself, all of me participating in utter surrender to him. 

I grind my hips against his, the thin fabric of my shorts doing little to shield the hard heat of him beneath me as I do. 

When I whimper into his mouth, his growl is felt more than heard in the way it vibrates through his chest and electrifies my blood. I press my breasts into his chest, nipples tingling as my body comes more alive with every passing second. 

His big hand plunges into my hair as his teeth sink into my lip. Briefly, he pulls me tighter against him and I feel it everywhere— the mischief of kitten’s pleasure fizzing in my chest and the press of every hard plane of his body against every soft curve of mine. We are flush, no space between us, exactly the way I like. But I don’t have the chance to relax into that satisfaction before his hand closes around the hair at the nape of my neck. He pulls back just a bit until I’m staring up at him wide-eyed, wondering and wanting. 

He kisses me once more, his lips a soft tender press against mine before I watch the change in him. Challenge and dominance light his dark gaze with a fire so bright it’s like they’re molten. 

“Now kitten,” his shoulders are tense, as if he’s ready to pounce despite the cocky smile that curves his lips, “on your knees.” 

His words are more animal than man, the beast in him rising. His growling desire floods me with pleasure and echoing need—to obey, to behave, to show off. 

I drop to my knees as his hold over me wraps around my mind and blankets me in utter surrender, freedom from everything beyond his command. The slide of his zip fills the room as he lowers it, my mouth watering on cue as he pulls his cock out. I lick my lips and part them as I prepare to accept him. His fingers run through my hair, massaging my scalp in an affectionate touch that contrasts the perfect agony of his cock remaining just out of my reach. He smells like sex and it’s intoxicating, pulling me further under. I’m buzzing as his already wet tip nears my mouth. 

I’m ready, so ready, for a taste. His proximity is a tease but from the haze of subspace, it’s obedience that holds me in check. He laughs, a husky vibration that sends electric need pulsing through my body, my chin dipping in a show of deference as I wait. When he finally brings his cock to my hungry mouth, my tongue darts out to collect the heady, salty heat of his want. I savor the taste through a moan before licking at him again, but before I can make contact, he’s withdrawing from my reach. 

His hand in my hair closes, a fist forming around the bulk of it still caught there as he tugs up once, gently, wordlessly directing me to stand. I do so, rising to my feet as fluidly as I dropped to my knees, and before I’ve found my gravity, he’s kissing me. He takes the air from my lungs and amplifies my need until I’m moaning into his mouth, my hips rocking until his hands bracket them and still me with the strength of his grip. Though his touch is gentle, his need is potent as he presses his fingertips into my skin, pushing beneath the waistband of my tiny shorts and nudging them down. When they wiggle, then fall, he grins into our kiss before breaking it. 

The glow of his eyes betrays his desperation, and I know it’s mirrored in mine as he turns me around, my back to his front now as he slides a flat palm up my spine, pressing me forward atop the very work I called him away from. 

“Is this what you wanted, kitten?” he asks, the husky velvet of his voice rolling over my skin and silencing my awareness of anything but him. He wraps my ponytail around one fist, and the other around his cock as I feel the head of him at my wet hole. He taps me, and the slick sound of skin on skin fills the room with delightful obscenity. I tilt my hips in response, trying to press myself back onto his length, to be filled and fucked.

But he retreats again, tugging once on my hair as I feel his fist touch my pussy lips when he strokes himself.

“I asked you a question,” he reprimands me gently, “And questions require answers, don’t they kitten?” 

“Yes, daddy,” I say softly, wiggling my ass impatiently. 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes,” I grind out, struggling to use my words beyond the blinding need for his cock inside me. I can feel the heat of him nearing me once more as I say, “This is what I wanted.” 

“Then take it, kitten,” he growls as he rocks his hips forward, filling me in one smooth thrust, “All of it.” 

A thought of thanks briefly flares across my mind but before the words can find their way out of my mouth, he’s sliding out and then hammering into me again, fucking me hard and fast. 

We build together with frantic need, each of his thrusts met with a rock of my own hips, the sound of my ass slapping off his hips fills the room. I’m aware of nothing but the slide of the head of his cock along my sensitive g-spot, the shift of the papers beneath my breasts, and the sound of his growl as his grip tightens at the same rate that my need coils low in my belly. It burns hot in my nipples, electric beneath my skin as pleasure builds with every quick, hard thrust. 

He has me bent over his desk, filled with his cock and aching to come. My submission is the only emotion that exists in me now, a blanket of power—his—and release—my own. That, and the need to be filled with the reward of his pleasure in thick, hot ropes of possession painted inside me. 

The thought alone has my cunt clenching, my thighs shaking, as I gasp and tip my head back with my hips. 

“Daddy, please?” I ask, but he doesn’t have time to answer before I begin begging, “Please, please, daddy, I need to cum, please.” 

I can feel the coil of my orgasm low in my belly and I try desperately to hold off. My body burns with it but without his permission, I can’t cum. Until he gives the word, I am powerless to give my body what it begs for.

“Cum, kitten. Now.” His words are strained, thrusts a short staccato rhythm as he gives me the key to release and my body responds, shuddering and bursting in ecstatic surrender around him, milking his cock just right as he- 

“Fuck, kitten,” he growls, and on a sharp thrust he buries himself inside me as he comes. 

I feel every twitch of his cock as he fills me with his pleasure, and I answer them each with an aftershock of my own. I rock my hips for a few moments as his arm tightens around my waist and he leans forward, his chest pressed against my back. His heart is racing, both of us breathing in sharp gasps. 

Our bodies are slick with sweat and the remnants of our still warm desire as it cools on our skin and beneath it. All too soon, he’s pulling out of me, leaving trails of pleasure running down my thighs as I turn to face him and lean against his desk with a satisfied smile. He leans forward, kissing the tip of my nose as he presses our foreheads together, arms winding tight in an intimate embrace.

“You are trouble, you know that?” He’s grinning, shaking his head just a little as he re-zips his jeans and carefully side steps me to return to his chair. 

I nod, grinning with all the satisfaction of a woman well fucked as he leans back in his seat and, without a word, I curl into his lap. My head tucks perfectly against his chest as he kisses my temple and settle into him, breathing in the scent of comfort.

As the world begins to shift toward normalcy and I become aware once more of the mundane things going on around us, kitten finds her way back to complacency. Curled up and purring.

Photo by Lokman Sevim