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I don’t want to stop. Looking up, I meet his eyes, and he gives me a look that reminds me spankings are still on the agenda. Reluctantly, I release him, and he wastes no time in reversing our positions so he can return the favor.
When I’m splayed out on the bed, too weak to move after multiple orgasms, Dante takes his place between my legs and fills me with one long, smooth stroke. He’s determined to keep it slow, this time, gliding in and out of me with endless patience, the delicious friction of his cock in my pussy too much and yet not enough.
That glorious tension is building in my body again, but it still surprises me when a climax rolls over me, making me arch against him and gasp. I’ve never come without my clit being touched before.
As if it’s a signal, Dante wraps my hair around one hand and tugs, forcing my head back, just enough for it to hurt a little. “Fuck, yes,” I hiss. “Harder.”
He moves the hand holding my hair a fraction more. “This?”
“No. You.”
“Legs around my neck,” he grits out. When I obey, he wraps his free arm around my shoulders, holding me down. And then he fucks me hard and fast and relentlessly, just like I want him to, his cock rubbing my clit with every rough stroke, and I come twice more before he follows me over theedge.
