He stroked through the wet heat of her, slow and unhurried, until she was arching off the mattress and clutching at him. His heavy body was a delicious weight pinning hers, his chest dragging against her stiff nipples with every breath.
“Kenneth,” she begged, her nails raking down his back.
“I am here.” He eased two thick fingers inside her, stretching her, working her open while his thumb circled the aching peak of her. “Feel how tight you are? You will have to take all of me, and you will.”
He set a slow rhythm at first, curling his fingers as he drew them back, finding some hidden place inside her that made her gasp and clutch at the bedding.
The pleasure wound tighter low in her belly, and her hips began to lift to meet his hand. She was climbing fast now, certain shewas only a breath away from shattering.
And then he slowed.
His fingers gentled inside her. His thumb eased off just as she teetered on the edge, and the release she had been racing toward slipped away from her. A broken sound escaped her.
“Kenneth!” she complained.
“Patience,” he murmured. “I am not finished with you yet.”
He began thrusting his fingers again, building her back up with the same maddening care, and again he brought her to the brink and drew her down from it.
“Please,” she gasped, beyond shame now. “Kenneth, I cannot... I need it.”
“I know.” His thumb pressed harder, his fingers driving deeper, no longer holding her back. “Then let go for me.”
She reached her climax faster than she thought possible, his fingers driving her up and up until she shattered around them, gasping, her body clenching down on nothing but his hand. He did not give her time to recover.
“This might sting,” he warned, lifting her chemise to bare her breasts to him. “But only the first time.”
She was ready. She could take it. He notched the broad head of his cock at her entrance and pushed, and she felt herself stretch around him, felt every thick inch of him filling her as he sank in. His jaw was tight, his control held by a thread, and only when he was seated to the hilt did some of that strain ease from his face.
Madeline froze. The sting made her thighs tremble. But she wanted this. She wanted him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, holding himself still inside her.
“Yes,” she gasped. “I just feel... so full.”
He smirked at that, but he did not move. “I like seeing you stuffed full of me,” he said against her ear, and the words sent a fresh pulse of heat through her. “Tell me when you are ready.”
“I... You can move a little faster,” she urged.
He chuckled, but quickly obeyed. At first, he was restrained, drawing back and sliding into her in slow, deep strokes, letting her body learn the shape of him. The sting faded into something molten. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and he watched her do it, his eyes never leaving her face.
“There is something I have been wondering,” she breathed, half-teasing even with him buried inside her. “Ever since I heard that choking was more your thing.”
Kenneth froze for a second, his eyes widening in shock. He stopped thrusting and huffed a low laugh against her shoulder. “You want to know.”
It was not a question, but she answered anyway. “Yes.”
“Then you will do as I say. The moment it is too much, you take my wrist, and I stop. Nothing else. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Good girl.”
He blinked, and then, almost gently, he placed one large hand over her throat while the other held her by the hip. He applied firm pressure, enough to blur her vision and make her world spiral. And then he began to move in earnest.
So, this was what he had meant.
With her air shortened, every sensation struck ten times harder—the slide of his cock dragging through her clenching heat, the slap of his body against hers, the weight of his hand at her throat. He pounded into her relentlessly, the headboard knocking against the wall with every thrust.
