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She came again so hard her teeth rattled, and she bit her lip, muffling a scream into a mewling cry.
“That’s it,” he rasped.
How was he still able to speak? Why wasn’t his mind as bliss-boggled as hers?
“Milk my stalk. Take my seed.”
As her full-bodied quakes eased into trembling, he slowed his plunging thrusts and gripped her with both hands around her upper thighs, pulling her lower body off the ground as he knelt up slightly on spread knees.
In this position, he could ram down into her with even more power, all of his core muscles engaged.
He didn’t.
Instead, he dragged his glorious cock inch by excruciating inch through her wet, clenching channel, letting her feel every vein and ridge. Then slowly, painstakingly plowed back inside, screwing into her with a twist at the end, rubbing the thick root of him against her swollen pearl, making her orgasm multiply, taking her higher and higher.
Until she was soaring.
Until she thought it would never end.
Until she wanted to die of the breath-stealing ecstasy. Because what was the point of living if she couldn’t feel this way every moment? If she couldn’t have him inside her just like this?
“Long and deep,” he uttered, breath hitching, voice evaporating like smoke.
So unknowingly sexy. So innocently sinful.
“Do I feel good inside you, my female? Tell me.”
She wished she had the words to praise him. But she was too busy drowning in rapture. Her brain a melted mess.
She expressed herself by clawing her fingers into the backs of the large hands clutching her thighs, holding her right where he wanted her to take his thick, burrowing cock.
The wet sounds of their mating and their belabored breaths were the only music in the still, balmy night.
It was obscene, how wet she was. Filled with her juices and his hot, creamy cum. His cock was almost unbearably hard, even after his recent orgasm. But the slicked satin of his skin made up for the unyielding steel.
“Tell me,” he commanded again, slowing his thrusts even further, as if punishing her for not giving him what he wanted.
“An-Andros…” she gasped, not knowing what else to say.
She was beyond words.
Beyond thought.
He pulled all the way out of her then, and her pussy shuddered and clenched on emptiness, desperate to bring him back.
But he didn’t move away. Instead, he shifted until he knelt over her face, his meaty cock glistening with their fluids in the starlight, the ruddy glans pulsing an inch away from her lips.
“Open,” he growled, one large hand threading into her hair, pulling her head back and arching her throat. The other hand holding his maleness at the root, offering himself to her like a gift.
A beautiful, delicious, magnificent gift. And all hers.
Only hers.
She licked her lips with anticipation, her hands tracing up the V of his groin to his hip bones.
“If you cannot tell me with words, then show me with your mouth,” he husked, rubbing the sweet nectar that gathered at his tip across her lips, his slit pulsing in eagerness to give her more.
Gladly, she obeyed, and he fed his juicy cockhead between her lips, pushing slowly inside, taking up all of the space in her mouth. Only stopping when he hit the back of her throat.
