Shameful Needs – Shamefully Courted Read Online Emily Tilton

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: Emily Tilton Advertisement1

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“Deeper,” he murmured around another spoonful, his free hand tangling in my hair to guide my movements. “Show me how grateful you are for your training.”

I relaxed my throat the way Chad had taught me, and Master Paul had reinforced, taking him as deep as I could manage while the plug pressed relentlessly inside my bottom. The image in my mind’s eye, of me kneeling almost naked between my husband’s legs while he casually ate dessert, sent shameful arousal surging into my core.

My left hand found its way between my thighs almost without conscious thought, my fingers seeking the wetness that had been building since he’d made me strip. I needed relief desperately, needed to ease the aching tension that threatened to consume me completely.

“Stop.” Ryan’s voice cut through my desperate haze like a whip crack. His hand tightened in my hair, pulling me back slightly. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”

I whimpered around his cock, my hand freezing between my legs as shame flooded through me. Of course I wasn’t allowed to pleasure myself—my body belonged to him now, to use as he saw fit. The realization that I couldn’t even seek my own relief without his permission made my face burn.

“Hands behind your back,” he commanded firmly. “Your pussy will feel good when I decide you’ve earned it, not before.”

I clasped my trembling hands behind me, the position forcing me to rely entirely on my mouth and throat to please him. The plug shifted as I adjusted my posture, sending jolts of sensation through my already overwhelmed nervous system.

“Better,” Ryan murmured, taking another spoonful of ice cream while I worked desperately to bring him pleasure. “My ass girl needs to learn patience.”

I redoubled my efforts, using every technique I’d been taught to worship his massive shaft. My tongue swirled around his head, my lips sealed tightly around his girth as I bobbed my head with increasing desperation. Above me, I could hear him finishing his dessert with maddening calm, as if my eager servicing was simply background entertainment.

When I felt his cock begin to pulse against my tongue, signaling his approaching climax, excitement flooded through me. Finally, I would taste his release, would receive the reward for my devoted service.

But Ryan’s hand suddenly gripped my hair, pulling me off his shaft just as I sensed he was about to explode. I gasped for air, staring up at him with confusion and desperate need.

“The dishes need to be washed,” he said matter-of-factly, tucking himself back into his pants. “Go take care of them now.”

I stared at him in shock, my mouth still tingling from his use. “But sir,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, “weren’t you about to⁠—”

“Were you going to question my decision?” he asked, his voice carrying that dangerous edge that made my stomach clench with fear and arousal.

“No, sir,” I said quickly, scrambling to my feet on unsteady legs. “I’ll do the dishes right away.”

The walk to the kitchen felt endless, each step sending the plug deeper into my bottom while my body ached with unfulfilled need. My hands shook as I filled the sink with hot, soapy water, the mundane task feeling surreal after what had just happened. I could still taste Ryan on my tongue, could still feel the phantom pressure of his hand in my hair as he’d denied me the completion I’d been working toward.

I washed each dish with trembling fingers, hyperaware of how the apron barely covered my nakedness, how the plug made every movement a reminder of my submission. My pussy throbbed with desperate need, and I found myself pressing my thighs together as I worked, seeking any relief from the aching tension.

When the last plate was dried and put away, I turned to find Ryan standing in the kitchen doorway, watching me with those intense blue eyes that seemed to see straight through to my soul.

“Follow me,” he said simply, turning toward the hallway.

I walked behind him on unsteady legs, the plug shifting with each step as we made our way to our bedroom. Our bedroom, where everything had changed between us just days ago, where I’d faked so many responses while craving exactly what he was giving me now.

“Stand here,” Ryan commanded, positioning me in front of the full-length mirror that hung on our closet door. I blinked at him, frowning, then looked in the mirror. I swallowed hard as I saw myself, clad in nothing but the apron, my hair disheveled and my eye makeup smudged.

“No,” Ryan said. “Turn around and look at the mirror over your shoulder.”

My cheeks filled with heat as I understood what my husband wanted me to see.

I turned around as he commanded, my breath catching in my throat as I saw my reflection over my shoulder. The emerald jewel of the butt plug caught the bedroom light, sparkling obscenely between my spread cheeks as Ryan pressed on my shoulders, to bend me slightly and give me a better view of the lewd reflection. The sight of the jewel nestled so intimately in my bottom made my face burn with shame, but I couldn’t look away.


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