Page 40 of Jonesing for a Spy

I move my hips, getting a fraction more of his long cock, but not enough. Then again, if I had all of him, all the time, it still wouldn’t be enough.

I want him.

I need him.

Fuck it, I don’t care if I lose the battle of wills if I actually get him inside me.

“Need you,” I say, tempering the whimper in my voice.

Immediately he drives home.

My moan is met with his groan. Fuck yes.

When he doesn’t move, I suck in a deep breath and calm the anger that wants to rise. “Are you fucking with me?”

He speaks into my neck, his words dancing along my shoulder. “You said I got to choose.”

I exhale, reining in my temper and decide two can play at this game. With my hand between us, I cup his sac, rolling his balls between my fingers, tugging gently and clamp down with my inside muscles with every bit of strength I have.

The man behind me growls. He growls! “So this is how you want it?”

I tilt my head, still firmly within his grasp, and say nothing, but I do wink. Who would expect different from me?

“Okay, Freckles, but tell me if it gets to be too much.”

He holds my eyes, holds my throat… holds me captive as he drives deep, flexing somewhere at the end of me to give me just a bit more. His pace is relentless, merciless.

I fight to give as much as I get. That’s not truly an option. He’s deep inside me, surrounding me, enveloping me, holding me wide, and I’m helpless to stop the wave that builds.

But it won’t crest. There’s no breaking point, there’s only build. Something’s got to give. I need release. No coil can be wound this tight without snapping. Or breaking.

I reach between my legs, but his words in my ear are ragged and ripped from him. “Wait. Wait, baby.”

“I need to⁠—”

“You need to wait.” He bites into my earlobe.

“You need to stop…” What? Telling me what to do? Providing the most extreme pleasure I’ve ever experienced? I’m not stupid.

“You’re close. Give me time.”

His words are weighty, as if he’s not only talking about an orgasm. As if he’s begging me for me.

“I know how you tighten. I know how you sound. You’re close but you’re not there yet.”

I would be if I could just stroke my clit.

“But—”

“I dare you—” Thrust.

“To trust me.” Stroke.

“I know your body.” Plunge.

“I know… you.” With those words, he rears back and stabs into me in time with a squeeze to my throat, and groans.

Lights crackle. Darkness wars with the morning light.