“Fuck, Sapphire, you’re ambidextrous… I’ve… I’ve won the fucking lottery.”
“The fucking lottery, you mean.”
A little content sound vibrates against my skin.
“I need you to take me now, because I swear, I’ll go fucking feral.”
I smile. “Bold words for someone already hanging by a thread.”
“McKenna, I swear to—”
“Alright, baby. Show me how feral you can really get on my cock.”
Yosh reaches for the nightstand, tears a condom open with his teeth, and the sight alone has me struggling to keep it together. He rolls it down my cock with steady fingers—slow enough to make it filthy, controlled enough to make me lose my fucking mind.
For a moment, we hold eye contact. I need to read him beforeI move. He smiles, soft and beautiful, settling himself, making himself comfortable for me.
I steady his hips, line up, the head of my cock pressing blunt against him.
The serpent down his back stretches as he moves. I catch a tiny arrow at the tip of its tail pointing south. Instructions are usually not for me, but this one I’ll happily follow.
I push in slowly, the stretch drawing a sharp breath from both of us as we groan in unison.
Bloody hell. I grit my teeth, his body clamping down around me so tight I have to breathe through it.
His fingers twist in the sheets, knees spreading wider without me even asking.
I start slow, wanting him to feel every inch of me filling him. The sounds he makes are addictive, the kind that make it impossible to slow down even when I know I should.
“Love, you feel so tight. So fucking warm around me.”
A desperate whimper follows. “Yes, baby. Just like that.”
That’s all I need.
I gradually pick up the pace, the wet slap of skin against skin and his pleading cries filling the room. His body meets me halfway, pushing back, greedy for more, taking me so well the heat of it makes me dizzy. I don’t know what to call this. I’m barely moving, and he rides me without restraint, like bottoming could pass as an Olympic event.
“Fuck, Yosh… fuck. fuck. fuck.”
“Harder. I can take it. I need more.”
So I’ve heard.
I dive in deeper, starting to rail him like a rabbit in spring. My fingers claw into his skin, hauling him back to meet me, over and over again.
“You’re taking me so well like this.” Sweat drips off my face, “I’m going to make you so fucking sore for days, sugarplum.”
“The fuck you just called me!?” His hands clutch the sheets. Then he clamps down so tight it makes me swear. He’s asking for it now.
I keep one hand locked on his shoulder and slide the other over his stomach. My fingers find his cock, and I start stroking in sync with the way I’m fucking him. Every thrust drives him forward into my fist, every pull drags him back onto my cock. Then I switch rhythm to something more complicated. Just for the effect. Just to show off.
He’s panting, swearing, pushing back into me like he hates me.
I think I’m actually really damn good at this.
“Fuck—”
Another punishing thrust nearly slams him into the wall.
