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He’s all I can focus on. His clean scent, large presence, and warmth.
It’s his hand, all veiny and strong. His cock, all hard and ready to wreak havoc inside me.
It’s everything about him.
Creighton keeps up the merciless, erotic rhythm. He thrusts, glides, strokes, and spanks. He grabs me in a figurative chokehold and I’m bucking my hips, writhing, panting, and whining.
Demanding that he take me.
Ownme.
Make me feel alive the only way he knows how.
He removes his fingers and slaps my ass three consecutive times. A moan rips out of me as pleasure mixes with the mild pain.
And just when I think I’ll come, he drives his cock inside my virgin hole.
The world stills as my earlier pleasure dims to excruciating pain. It doesn’t matter that he’s been prepping me for this or that he spent a lot of time stretching my hole or lubricating himself.
The fact remains, Creighton is huge and his cock shouldn’t be anywhere near any back entrance.
It hurts, burns, and is downright suffocating.
Why do people love anal? This is torture.
I writhe and gasp and try to find reprieve from his savage hold on me.
Creighton doesn’t thrust inside me, but he doesn’t pull out either. His fingers dig into the flesh of my nape. “Relax. Don’t push me out.”
“I can’t.” Tears fill my lids as I strain. “It hurts. So much.”
“Shhh. Don’t fight me.” He soothes, grabbing my hip, stroking all the way to my side, then my stomach, then to my back. His fingers on my neck draw comforting circles, all gentle and caring.
A trait that’s not usual for him. Yes, he can be caring, but only after sex, not during.
He told me so himself once, that he knows how to take, and doesn’t know how to give, which is why he’s never considered relationships.
No clue if it’s that knowledge, the fact that he’s giving me this type of care so naturally or his appeasing touch, but I find myself relaxing, and my muscles loosen, slowly adjusting. I choose to focus on just how full he makes me.
So very full.
“Such a good girl,” Creighton’s deep voice might as well be touching me too. Or maybe it’s that word, because I’m dripping between my thighs.
He holds my nape with the hand that was stroking my side and lowers the other to tease my clit.
The arousal that I thought had disappeared earlier returns with wrecking force.
When he starts rocking his hips, I fall into the slap of his groin against my ass, into the sounds of grunting, moaning, groaning. Slapping and slapping and slapping.
Sweat coats my skin and I melt into his touch, into his presence.
“That’s it.” His rhythm is slow, pleasurable. “You’re taking my cock so well. You feel so good. So tight. So fucking mine.”
A moan rips out of my throat and all the tension from earlier disappears. Raw, gritty pleasure pools between my thighs and I rock my hips, demanding more.
“You want me to fuck you harder? Want me to take your ass and ram into your virgin hole until you’re unable to sit for days?” he asks, voice oozing with dark lust as his thrusts deepen. “Want me to tear into you and claim you as mine? Because that’s what you’ll always be, Annika.”Thrust.“You can shoot me and run. You can push me and leave.”Thrust.“But you aremygirl, and you’ll remain my girl despite your fucking parents.”Thrust.“I’m the only home you’ll ever have. My bed is the only bed you’ll ever sleep in, so the next time I say you’re my home, you say I’m yours, too.”
I gasp and whimper and moan, unable to take in the load of emotions he’s arousing.
