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I screamed even louder as he drove two fingers into my pussy, turning his wrist to reach even further into me, to hit that magical G-spot.
I was there.
One more lick.
“Yes!” I drew in some air. “Bale, yes!”
And then he was gone, biting my thigh—a sharp reminder that I had only been a breath away from coming and I was now crashing again.
He nipped all the way down to my knee, and when he hit bone, he slapped my pussy with the same wet fingers that had just been inside me.
The second time was harder.
So was the third.
And the fourth.
I opened my eyes, not realizing I had closed them, and I had to force my back not to lift, silently encouraging my legs not to rise.
I saw red.
I felt rage.
But I felt something else that was far stronger.
And that was guilt.
“You know better,” he snarled, his lips soaked from me.
That last round, I’d allowed myself to get too close.
I’d pushed the boundaries.
But he had just felt so good.
“I’m sorry.” I tried to fill my lungs while the comedown hit me, shaking from the torturous fall.
“Do you want me to take all the pleasure away from you?”
“No. Never.” I inhaled again. “Please don’t ever stop.”
“Then, don’t do it again.”
His fingers slipped back inside me, moving at the most agonizing speed. He kept them plunged and tilted his wrist forward to reach that sensitive spot again.
The one that made my vision turn black.
The one that brought me into a space I couldn’t leave.
“You’re punishing me.”
I could hear how wet I was. I could feel the walls of my pussy clenching against his skin. The sweet, excruciating build was back with a vengeance, starting at the base of my stomach.
“I’m reminding you of who’s in control.”
“I never questioned it.”
He laughed—a delicious, guttural sound. “I think you’re wrong about that.” His tongue returned, swiping my slit.
