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“That’s quite a greedy little pussy you’ve got there, isn’t it?” he whispers and the words jar me for a moment because I was sure my libido would never come back.
“Yes,” I reply, biting my lip.
“Good girl.” He pulls my hair back a little as I slide my ass all the way back until the head of his cock is straining against my cervix. “Now who does that thirsty little hole belong to?”
“Me,” I moan as he pushes further, causing my cervix to pinch.
“If I could push all the way through,” he whispers hoarsely, “and impregnate you right now… I would.”
My eyes close as I breathe through the pleasure swirling with the pain of his deep intrusion into the most sensitive part of my body.
He presses his full weight back down onto me. “Notice how you can’t move?”
I nod.
“That’s how I like you.”
Holy shit, surely it’s illegal to talk like this…
“I intend to bind you, Indigo… leave you unable to move as I play eeny, meeny, miny, moe with your holes.”
He withdraws from me and drives in in one slow push.
“Whose is this pussy?” he asks.
“Mine.”
“Try again, wildflower.”
“It’s all mine,” I repeat, only this time I break into a wide smile, my gaze lifting to his as he leans over me. His eyes narrow most mischievously as his lips twist into a taunting smile.
“I see.”
He removes his hand from my hair, sliding it between my body and the table, maneuvering it down beneath my pubis and into the folds of my sex.
As my legs begin to come closer together, he orders roughly, “Keep your legs nice and wide for me. I want your pussy accessible at all times. That’s part of your apology.”
I drop my cheek to the table, closing my eyes as he begins to tend to my clit, rubbing circles around it, lubricated by my own copious arousal.
“Grey… Greyson,” I correct.
“I want to hear your voice,” he whispers. “Let me hear your pleasure. That’s an order.”
I swallow hard, trying not to be self-conscious about taking pleasure, allowing myself to believe that sex is as much for the pleasure of the woman as for the man, not something I've really observed in my twenty-three years, or at least, not before him.
“Louder,” he snarls as I moan as his finger plays magical tricks on my body.
The combination of him flicking my clit and thrusting his large greedy cock into a wet hole that’s too tight for him sets every nerve fiber in that area alight, making my body melt into the table below me, turning my cells to mush.
I buck my hips, trying to get as much of his cock inside me as I can, and to rub my clit against his fingers.
“What do you want?” he asks. “Make it clear to me.”
“Don’t stop,” I plead.
“Why not? What do you want exactly?”
“I want you to… make… me… come.”
