Page 96 of Mr. Wicked


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“Ohhh.”

She liked this.

And it was about to get even better.

Within a stroke, I realized how true that statement was for us both.

Because while I was giving her short, hard, deep pumps, I told her, “Touch yourself.” I slowed my speed, pulling back to my crown, taunting her with my tip. All that did was make me miss her, which made me want her even more. “Rub your clit while I fuck you.”

I wanted the vision of her hand on her pussy.

But I also wanted her to feel the combination of the two of us.

To experience what it felt like to be dominated by pleasure.

Her hand lifted from the bed and slithered down her navel until she reached her clit.

“That’s it,” I moaned, burying myself so the merger hit her at the same time. “Now go a little faster and tell me how you feel.”

Her lips were already open. Her breath was coming out in pants. The backs of her knees pushed down on my shoulders, like she was urging me forward, and I bucked in.

After a twist, I did it again, my thrusts gaining more pressure.

Power.

Heat.

“Grayson!”

She gave me only one word.

That was because she was in that familiar place.

The one where she had lost control and the only thing she could focus on was the build.

I knew.

I could see it all over her.

I could feel it.

“That fucking pussy,” I howled. “It’s incredible.”

The way it was sucking me in.

The way it was making me so damp.

The way it was contracting around me, almost holding me in.

And as she soared closer, so did I.

“Don’t stop,” I warned as her hand slowed. “No matter what, don’t you dare stop.”

“But I’m going to come.”

“And that’s what I want.”

It was as if a switch had gone off the second I’d released that statement because she was instantly shuddering, clenching me from the inside, saturating me with her orgasm.

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