Page 106 of Haunted Spurs

"Yes," he growls against my neck, kissing my collarbone before biting down on it, leaving a small mark that makes me shiver right to the bone. "Take it, little Selly. Give yourself to me."

"Y-yes," I whimper, lost in a hell of liquid pleasure. I don't even know who I am anymore. Maybe just a woman completely at the mercy of the only man capable of taming her. "Give me all of it, fuck. Deeper."

His answering growl vibrates through me.

He changes his angle, lifting my hips off the mattress with his left arm. His right hand, meanwhile, abandons its grip on my branded hip and slides downward, slipping between our sweaty bodies.

I feel his fingers get slick with my own juices, gathering my slippery, boiling essence. Then, his touch traces the cleft of my ass, caressing my sensitive skin, stopping exactly against my tightest, most forbidden entrance.

I gasp, my eyes flying open in the dark. An electric, filthy, fucking arousing shiver paralyzes me.

"Ron..." I pant, my breath catching in my throat.

"You said all of it, Selly," he whispers in my ear, his voice thick with dark lust. "Let go. Relax for me."

I don't have the strength to fight him, nor do I want to. I obey, exhaling heavily. My body surrenders to the tone of his voice, melting away all tension.

With a firm, calculated pressure, Ron pushes the tip of his finger, made slick and greasy by my own pleasure, inside me.

A high, broken moan is ripped from my lips. The sensation of intrusion is shocking for a fraction of a second, but it almost instantly turns into a dense, absolute, obscene pleasure.

When Ron resumes driving his hips, the friction becomes unbearable. His finger inside presses against my back wall at the exact same moment his hard cock sinks into my front, stretching me wide.

The double fullness makes me lose my mind. It's too much. It's everything. It's a stimulation so deep, invasive, and devastating that I literally see flashes of light behind my closed eyelids.

"Fuck... yes," he growls through clenched teeth. I feel the muscles in his chest flex under the effort as he feels how my internal muscles desperately clamp down around him in both places. "You're so fucking tight everywhere. Do you like it, baby?"

"Yes... ah... God, yes!" I almost scream, my nails tearing into the skin of his shoulders in a desperate search for an anchor.

The pace turns frantic, hammering, a continuous crash that knocks the wind out of me. The devastating friction, combined with that new, total fullness, builds an unbearable tension in my lower belly. Every time he thrusts into me, he slightly curls the finger inside my back door, massaging me from within, and my brain literally short-circuits.

I feel like I'm going to explode. I can't handle this level of sensory overload anymore.

My breath catches in my throat, turning into a panicky sob. It's a new, all-consuming sensation. There's an uncontainable, liquid, incredibly heavy pressure pushing against my lower stomach, like I'm a dam on the verge of breaking at any second.

"Ron... I... I can't hold it back," I pant, wrapping my hands tightly around his sculpted arms. "It's too much. I feel like..."

"Don't hold it back. Let go, Selly."

His voice is a dark, aroused growl, vibrating with pure fervor. He knows exactly what is happening to me. Instead of slowing down, he sinks his teeth into my earlobe and curls that fucking finger inside me, stimulating me with calculated cruelty, while his hips continue to hammer me without mercy.

"Trust me, don't stop, baby." He whispers, his breath scorching against my ear. "Get me all wet, Selly."

The sound of those filthy words, combined with that last, devastating dual thrust, blows the final valve of my self-control.

The orgasm crashes over me with a violence that disintegrates me.

My body arches backward, drawn taut as a bowstring. I scream his name into the dark, a sharp, liberating cry, as my core explodes in violent spasms, clamping down on his length like a vice.

And then, the dam breaks.

A hot, fluid, unstoppable rush gushes from me with unprecedented force. Squirting is absolute liberation, a blinding, uncontrollable discharge of pleasure that floods Ron, soaking him and drenching the sheets beneath us.

I keep gushing over him, trembling convulsively, shaken by waves of pleasure that leave me blind, deaf, and completely drained of all logical thought.

Ron breaks instantly, too. He lets out a hoarse, guttural roar. He gently slips his finger out at the last second, tightens his grip on my hips with both hands, and goes rigid above me. The veins in his neck pulse as he drives in to his absolute maximum depth, emptying himself into the latex wrapper with a series of short, sharp, desperate thrusts, shaking brutally against my body.

His weight collapses onto my chest. Our breathing is a broken, ragged rasp that echoes in the silent room. Our hearts slam against each other, wild and synchronized in a beautiful tachycardia. The scent of sex, intense and sweet, saturates the air.