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“What are you doing here?” I gasp past the slight hitch in my voice. I move to stand but his fingers don’t allow me, tightening painfully in a warning.
“Stay,” he growls low.
An electric shiver courses down my spine and my breathing quickens at the domineering command in his dark voice. The difference in our clothing, only heightening my depraved lust.
Ever so gently and slowly, he traces his fingers up my back and pushes the soft material until cool air caresses my skin. All thoughts about how he ended up here and found me, dissolve into nothingness with his seductive touch. Days’ worth of hunger and tension hits my body all at once and I know he’s feeling the same.
He continues his agonizing torment until I’m itching to jump his bones. A desperate moan slips out when he thrusts his cock. The sound of my need snaps his tightly laced control. Gathering my hair in his fist, he tugs hard until my back is arched.
“Look in the mirror and take out your tits.”
My hard nipples scrape against the lace as I push it down and the friction sends a zap straight to my clit. My breasts shake with every breath. His attention lowers to them and a violent shudder rocks my body as he pinches my nipple without any warning. He circles the other before giving it the same treatment.
“Play with your pussy.”
I’m all too happy to oblige as I push my hand underneath the thong and touch my wet folds before rubbing up and down. His rough hands don’t stop their assault on my sensitive nipples. He palms and squeezes my breasts before spanking the hard tips.
“Dash!” I cry out, forgetting anyone could hear us. His eyes stay locked on my moving hand as I circle my clit, trying to chase the building orgasm. But it’s his fingers I’m aching for.
“Give me your fingers. I want to taste how wet you are for me.”
His guttural request sends another surge of arousal and I bite my lip as I bring my wet hand to his lips. I watch in the mirror as he devours and licks my juices with a hungry groan. I almost come undone as his eyes close in satisfaction.
“You like my taste?” I purr.
His eyes flash open before turning wild, and he smirks. “You’re my favorite flavor in the world, wifey.”
I blush and try not to melt into a puddle. The hand in my hair tightens while the one playing with my sensitive breasts reaches between my thighs and cups my pussy. He grinds the base of his palm against my clit while sliding two fingers in deep. He traces me from my opening to my clit before pinching it roughly.
“Did I tell you to stop touching yourself?” He raises one arrogant eyebrow while continuing to caress and trace my drenched slit. When I hesitate, he yanks my wrist and inserts my finger inside and…His own.
Our eyes remain locked as he moves our fingers together in a slow but deep rhythm in my pussy. It feels naughty, illicit, and so goddamn hot that I gush even more. The wetness has his jaw clenching and heat darkening his angular face.
“You feel yourself clenching, kitten? How you’re choking our fingers like a greedy girl? Nothing comes close to heaven compared to this,” he rasps in a guttural tone that has my walls tightening, and he smiles devilishly before plunging in another finger. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?”
“No.”
“Good girl.” Fucking me faster, he thrusts against a secret spot that has me seeing stars. “This tight pussy is mine, kitten. You come when I allow you and never without me. Understand?”
“Yes,” I moan.
I pant heavily as his thumb flicks my clit while our fingers are still inside. Dash is a filthy, deviant man and just when I think he can’t be more filthy and deviant, he proves me wrong. And I like it. A lot.
The woman in me driven by lust and wantonness.
When I bite down to stop from screaming out my pleasure, he increases the pressure and like a dirty savage, demands, “No. I want to hear the little sounds you make, kitten. You’re going to scream my name as I make you come like this. Bent over, tits on display, while I play with your cunt like my dirty whore.”
“Oh god!” I whimper when he shoves two of his fingers to the hilt.
Finger fucking me ruthlessly, he barks, “Not God. Your husband.”
Three fingers become four until I’m stretched and too full. With every thrust, I rise on my toes, incapable of everything except clenching around his hand. The pleasure, so intense after being deprived of it for weeks that before I know it, my orgasm barrels down on me.
“Yes! Dash!” I sob his name again and again.
I haven’t even come down from my high when I find myself turned around and pushed against the mirror. My lips part in awe and exhilaration when he lowers to his knees, rips off the expensive lingerie, and crushes his mouth against my dripping pussy.
“Oh fuck!” I moan.
