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“Yes.” He bares his teeth. “Most of them time I’ll have your knees pinned open and I’ll be bucking on top of you like a beast. This time you’re on top, though, angel. That means you’ll have to ride me in and out of that pussy. Show me how you’ll do it. Give me a practice fuck.”
Biting my lip, I look down between our bodies, at the large column of flesh straining the lap of his sweatpants. I settle my sex on top of his slowly, easing down until he hisses a vile curse and I do what I’m told. I bury my face in the crook of his neck and mimic intercourse with my hips, grinding sensually, whimpering when his lower body begins rolling in an upward rhythm to meet mine.
“We need to talk about something important before we take out my cock,” Eric rasps, licking at my mouth.
“Protection?”
“No, little girl. You never need to be protected from me. I’m talking about your clit. Are you rubbing it against me?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“That’s a no. Tilt your hips, press down until the top of your little slit is riding me—” Following his instructions causes me to cry out, fall forward onto his chest, my hips writhing anxiously, sensation pluming like a geyser inside of me, making my nerve endings dance. “Oh God, oh God…”
“Good girl,” he growls. “Above all else, we take care of that sweet little clit, understand?”
“Yes,” I pant.
“That’s what’s going to make you come. That’s what’s going to keep you wet and horny and climbing Daddy for more.”
When he calls himself that title, an uncontrollable burn begins inside of me, the tingle of arousal building into a pyre. I can barely see him through the golden haze that clouds my vision, the orgasm looming closer, closer, my hips galloping on top of him, but when the storm clouds are just beginning to break, Eric sinks his teeth into the side of my neck, making me cry out at the unexpected pleasure/pain.
“Panties off, Greta. Get me into that pussy. Now.”
I’m whimpering and my hands won’t seem to work properly, they’re shaking with so much pent-up need, but somehow I manage to reach back and strip down my thong until it’s wrapped around my knees, using my big toe to drag it off the remaining distance.
“Get my dick out and sit on it, little girl,” he grates directly against my lips. “If my hands were free, I’d be plowing you into a screaming fit right now, so help me God, you sweet, horny brat.”
I cry out, my limbs turned almost limp under a surge of lust, but I manage to curl my fingers in his waistband and draw the red sweatpants down, the breath catching in my throat when I see him for the first time. And I’m so glad he drove me to this fever pitch before seeing his erection, because I think the generous size of it would have scared me if I wasn’t so desperate. So drenched and achy.
“Just like we practiced, Greta,” he heaves, his body flexed in anticipation, eyes on me, hungry but grounding. “It’s going to feel so good, angel.”
“I know, Daddy,” I whisper, rising up on my knees into a straddle above his hips, watching his eyes roll back in his head when I drag the smooth, pulsing head of his manhood through my wetness, knowing how to give him pleasure on instinct. Yes, instinct is taking over, making me desperate to satisfy my partner. It’s like something inside of me snaps up control, something driven by a quest for pleasure and my worries dissipate completely, once and for all.
When I’ve inched the tip of his shaft inside of me, between that tight ring of nerve endings that ripple and dampen around him, my head falls back and I moan at the ceiling. It’s almost too much to look at Eric, at his seething muscles, the stark lines of his throat that stand out more and more with every inch I slide down, down, until he’s mostly in? I think? We both look down at where our bodies are joining together, the huge trunk of his erection only halfway hidden in my folds and digging my nails into his pectorals, I rock side to side, determined to take more.
“Fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” he chants, sweat breaking out on his forehead, upper lip, the valley in between his pecs. “Jesus, Greta, how tight is that thing?”
I lean down until our foreheads are pressed together. “Tight,” I say, pouting my lips against his hard, sculpted ones, letting him capture me, pull me under into a wild, carnal kiss. A filthy kiss that makes me dig my knees into the bed, just for an anchor against the raging storm of lust, and before I know what’s happened, Eric is planted completely inside of me, a continual growl of agony emanating from his throat, his blues eyes nearly crazed when I draw back to meet them.
