Page 72 of Playboy’s Purgatory

Without even realizing I’m doing it, I reach toward his cock. Before I can touch him, I flinch back and stare up at him with wide eyes.

His brown eyes sparkle with amusement and pure fucking need.

“You can touch, Cupcake,” he growls the words and takes a step closer to the bed.

“I don’t know if I should,” I breathe out the words.

Playboy grunts and wraps his fingers around his shaft. My eyes widen and my attention is fucking locked in as he starts to stroke himself. Slowly.

Pre-cum beads at the crown of his cock as he pumps a few more times. When he lets go of himself, he keeps his movements slow as if he’s expecting me to put a stop to this.

“I want you,” I murmur the words as I study the hard planes of his body again.

His kisses start at my ankles, and he works his way up my entire body. The entire time he avoids anywhere too pleasurable. It’s sheer fucking torture.

“Stop fucking around,” I whine. “I want you,” my voice takes on a note of desperation, “please.”

He settles his much larger frame over mine and my legs widen to accommodate his hips. The length of his shafts slides between my pussy lips which are coated in my arousal.

My hips buck and my back arches. Feeling my hard nipples dig into his chest has a zing rushing through every nerve in my body.

When his lips slam down on mine like he’s on a mission to plunder every moan and gasp out of me he can, I melt into the bed and give myself over to him completely. What other choice do I even have?

I want him.

His muscles are taunt and he’s so damn hot that sweat starts to slick my skin. Blonde tendrils of my hair stick to my forehead and my head falls back when he lowers his head and sucks a nipple into his mouth.

“I can feel how soaked you are for me and how hot your pussy is,” he groans. “I want to bury myself inside of you balls deep and then make you cry out over and over while you milk my balls.”

His dirty words roll over me, and I grind my hips down, seeking more, needing more.

“Yes,” I hiss as my nails dig into his shoulders. “Playboy,” his road name slips from my lips, and it sounds wrong being mixed into our ragged breathing and sounds of pleasure.

“No,” he snarls, “when you’re naked and underneath me, you call me Jettson.”

My pussy clenches around nothing. He takes my other nipple into his mouth and sucks hard. My entire body jolts and when he bites down, gently, I swear I fucking levitate.

“So fucking responsive,” he growls the words.

When he pulls back from my body, I whimper softly. My vision is hazy with lust and something sweeter I don’t want to think about. He reaches over the edge of the bed and grabs his pants to quickly pull out a condom from his wallet.

I’m on the edge of mindlessness, but this simple act of responsibility and protection breaks through. I grab the condom, tear it open, and reach between us to roll it into place.

The grunt that comes out of him the moment I touch him has my mouth curling into a wicked smile. Knowing that I have that kind of effect on him makes me feel powerful as fuck.

My fingers still for a moment over each piercing. They’re kind of intimidating, but I can’t say I’m not curious, because I really fucking am.

“You’ll love them,” he assures me.

I have a feeling he’s right. The only problem is that I can’t get addicted to his dick. I just can’t. It would be a tragedy, and I would be turning my back on all of womanhood. Well, at least the side of womanhood who can hold a grudge and likes to feed their petty side.

Normally, that’s me, but the resolve is cracking.

Jettson grips the base of his cock and slides the tip up and down my slit, teasing me. When he bumps against my clit, a jolt shocks me and I cry out sharply.

It’s almost too much. I’m almost too on edge.

When he notches the tip at my entrance and slowly starts to push inside of me, my eyes roll back in my head and I’m fairly certain I say something in German. I’ve never spoken German before, but there’s a first time for everything.