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“I want you here,” he whispers. “I think the bed’s too far away.”
“It’s only a few feet. You seem like you’re in good shape. I think you’d make it.”
He laughs and he spreads my legs. I gasp in surprise as his hand teases me from behind. I didn’t know if I could do this, not after coming already, but the pleasure’s there. It’s hotter, deeper, more intense than before, as if my orgasm only heightened everything swirling around inside me.
Oh, god, it’s there, and it’s going to destroy me.
His fingers roll through my folds and tease my clit before he fucks me with them again.
From behind. Pinned against a wall. With a total stranger in his hotel room.
I’ve lost my mind, and nothing matters.
“I can do things most men could only dream of, but I’m also impatient. Let’s call it a character flaw.”
“You, flawed? I never would’ve guessed.”
“You have a mouth on you. I love it. I think I’d love it more wrapped around my cock.”
“I think I’d love it more—” He presses two fingers inside and I gasp, my no doubt extremely clever retort entirely lost as he slides them in and out.
“What were you saying, princess?” he whispers. “I believe you were praising my stamina, masculine good looks, and my skill with my tongue.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, stupid with pleasure again and unable to think.
But he seems to like that. He growls and I feel his cock press against my soaking entrance. I gasp in a breath, surprised and suddenly afraid, but he grips my hips and slides his shaft up and down my pussy, spreading me wide and getting his cock dripping wet and drenched with my juices. I moan and want him to keep going, just rub my clit with the tip of his cock—
But he presses himself inside and my world explodes in an insane mix of pleasure and pain.
I groan as he fills me. Slowly, god, so slowly. He’s being—gentle? Kind? I don’t know what he’s doing. I don’t even care. He groans and seems to like it as he pulls back and goes deeper, driving himself further and further with every slow thrust until he’s all the way inside of me. I pant, moaning, and he reaches around my hips to tease my clit. There’s pleasure and pain and it’s all mixing and mingling and I can’t think, I’m so blinded by the sensations drifting along my body in sparks and whorls and brightness.
“I love it when you call me sir,” he purrs in my ear. “I want you to say it again.”
“Sir.”
“That’s right. Say it.”
“Fuck me, sir.”
“Say please.”
“Please, sir. I want you to fuck me.”
He grabs my hair and slides himself back. He fucks me in one rough stroke. In and out, in and out. I moan, and god, it fucking hurts—a sharp, burning pain that slowly, so, so slowly, resolves into something good.
Something amazing.
So this is sex? This is what I’ve been missing?
I’m a dumb asshole for waiting.
But I have a feeling sex with normal men isn’t like this.
No, sex with monsters? That’s the way to go.
I’m addicted. Like a candle to a flame, I’m burning. I’m lit up bright. He fucks me faster and I move my hips. I have no idea what I’m doing and I don’t care.
His smell permeates everything. His growls and groans of delight drive me wild with lust. I want to make him feel good and I want him to fuck me until I’m screaming. Pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure—it’s all mixed up and I’m lost in him.
