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“Say it, kitten.”
“I-I’m your whore.”
His grip becomes painful and he uses me like a rag doll, grinding and rocking me against his thigh until an ache builds in my stomach. I clutch onto his shoulders for dear life, loving every second.
“Pull aside your skirt and show me that wet cunt making a mess of my pants.”
Grateful he dragged us to a dark corner, I hastily obey his brazen demand and display my sex for his carnal gaze. My cheeks redden when I follow his stare and notice my pussy lips spread wide, exposing my clit and my juices sticking obscenely, darkening the color of his expensive pants.
“Is that all for me?” he teases, spreading my legs wider.
Embarrassed and shy, I go to cover myself when he wrenches my hand back to the side.
“Good little whores don’t hide themselves.”
I grab his shoulders just as he picks me around the waist and walks somewhere behind me to take a seat on a couch I didn’t notice before. It’s in a private nook, still shading us from others in the room. I moan when he flicks my clit with the pad of his thumb. Once.Twice.
“More,” I beg when he stops.
“My little whore wants to come?”
“Yes, please.” His fingers flex. “So badly.”
Lust clouds my brain every time he calls me his whore in that rough timbre voice of his. He says it so possessively, reverently, illicitly and sinfully. I hate how much I love it coming from his lips.
Fingers threading in my hair, he propels me forward, and bites my bottom lip before issuing another command, “Ride my thigh like you would my cock and make yourself come. Keep that pussy on display. I want to see that needy little clit grinding against my leg.”
You know what I didn’t realize all those years ago about Dash? That he is nothing but a savage beneath his bespoke suits.
With a mouth filthier than the devil’s.
His mind, deviant than a sinner’s.
And I just might come from his filthy words—wicked enough to send me over the edge of ecstasy—alone. My hooded eyes stay locked on his as I shift my hips. Dash, on the other hand, simply rests his palms on them, feeling every slow thrust. The desire shining in his pupils as they flick between my thighs and my face has me riding him faster.
Under his attention and hold, I feel owned and possessed.
“Dash,” I whisper, feeling the familiar tide rise in my core. I dry hump him harder, chasing it. “I’m so close.”
I jerk when I hear the front of my dress tearing and my breasts bouncing free.
Herippedmy dress.
His lusty eyes devour my naked breasts, as they bounce with every thrust. Dash gives me his vicious grin at my wide eyes and I cry out when he twists my nipple. Punishing the other, he growls, “Whose filthy whore are you?”
“Yours,” I whimper.
His palm slaps my breast and I buck against his leg violently. “Want more?”
I can do nothing but nod as I almost reach the peak, the pain from his spanking mixing with the pleasure heading closer.
My voice is hoarse when I beg like the needy whore he’s turned me into, “Again.”
“Where?”
“My pussy.”
Spank.
