Page 138 of Depraved

I buried my face in the sheets, squirming on top of the bed. The thought of him pleasuring himself while watching me was intoxicating, and I moved my hips, rubbing myself against the mattress.

“Look at that,” he murmured. “My pretty ballerina’s pussy seems quite needy. How does that feel, grinding your cunt against the sheets?”

“Not as good as rubbing it against your thigh.” Breathless and completely possessed with lust, I lost control of myself. The moment was too intense, the air around us palpitating and exhilarating.

He slipped a finger through my cleft and inside me, twisting his hand as he filled me with a second digit. I cried out, pushing my hips back, wanting it deeper, fuller, faster.

“Soaking. Fucking. Wet,” he growled, pulling his fingers out of me, leaving me panting and my body aching.

“This is the most perfect split you’ve ever mastered, I swear to God.”

His palms grabbed my ass, and he plunged into me. It felt like he tore right through me, impaling me with his length and thick girth. Instinct made me want to close my legs, but he grabbed my thighs and kept them open for him. I pinched my eyes closed, his merciless thrusts making it feel like he was tearing me apart.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.” I let out a breath with heavy exhalation.

“Good.” He reared back before sinking back into me. “The sooner you get used to this position, the better.” He reached over my back and grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling my head back. “Because I think I prefer you like this, split open, soaking wet, with cries ripping from your throat.”

The more he delved into me, the more pleasure started to push through the pain.

“Do not close your legs, do you understand me?”

I whimpered, and he tugged my hair hard.

“Understand?”

“Yes.”

He let go of my hair, placing his palm on the slit of my ass, spreading them. “Get ready to scream for me, ballerina girl.”

When I felt his thumb slip down, prodding against my tight opening, I tensed.

“Relax, beautiful. I promise this will make you feel good.”

He slowed his rhythm in and out of me, his finger gently nudging, coaxing me into welcoming his intrusion.

I let my head down, relaxing my body, focusing on the sensation of his touch against a place I never could have imagined letting anyone get near. But the more he played, massaging the pad of his thumb against the hole, the more I liked it—especially with the feel of his slick length filling me over and over again.

“That’s my girl. Lift your hips for me.”

Moving his other palm between my body and the bed, his finger found the sensitive pearl that had me crying out instantly.

“Oh, yeah, that’s it.” He moaned, the sound mixed between arousal and self-satisfaction.

“Granite, it’s too intense.” My knuckles whitened as I clutched the sheets, my cheek flat against the bed. “I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can. And you will.”

It was sensory overload, and my mind could no longer focus. I felt dizzy, my body shaking as I fought the urge to close my legs. My hips faltered, and I couldn’t hold them up anymore.

As I trapped his hand between my pussy and the bed, he kept working my clit, his thumb pushing harder against the tightness between my ass cheeks.

“Now, let me hear you.” The top of his thumb slipped in, and pleasure erupted between my legs, an intense release that caused my entire body to quiver. The climax that ripped through me took complete control, and my hips started riding his cock, pushing back as he slammed into me.

A cry rolled over my lips, and that was the moment Granite’s own search for pleasure took over.

He gripped my waist, pulling me back, forcing me to meet him thrust for thrust.