Page 90 of Priceless


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“Go ahead,” he whispered. “I’m waiting.”

I twisted to look up at him. His eyes — God, the ice had evaporated, leaving blue fire. Beads of sweat stood on his forehead.

I raised my ass, thrusting against his hand, asking for more. For the briefest moment, his eyes squeezed shut.

“That’s what I thought,” he said softly.

Goosebumps blossomed on my skin. When I buried my face in the covers, slung over his lap, big fingers began stroking in and out again.

“All she could do is sit there, denied her pleasure.” His voice snaked over me. “She’d watch me take you and fuck the living daylights out of you, watch you come over and over again, and she’d beso jealous.You’d see her face, and you’d know how much she wanted to be you.”

“Stop stop stop stop stop,” I panted, like it would count if I played at the protest.

“Why are you so upset, Christina?” A hand soothed my ass. “It’s just a fantasy. I’m not going to let anyone watch us. But can’t you see it? Us, on my bed. You under me, moaning like crazy. Your sister in the desk chair, helpless, wishing she was you.”

Lightning bolted through me. I gasped and clamped my legs around his hand. I was coming so soon, so fast. Shocked, my heart hammering. He was spanking me again.

At some point, he rolled me onto the bed, belly-down, and moved behind me. My skirt was still flipped up; my panties were caught around my knees. Sweat made my uniform damp.

Dizzy, I lifted my hips, stretching back like a cat, curving my body for him. Wearing the red and white top and skirt was like throwing a switch: I ought to be performing.

Another slap landed on my heated ass.

“Are you trying to put on a show for me? I remember the first time I saw you.” I heard his zipper coming down behind me, the metal teeth pulling apart. “In the middle of a dance floor. You were trying so hard to put on a show. You always try, don’t you?” A finger ran underneath the hem of my top.

I whimpered, past words, face-down on his smooth bed, and tilted my body further, spreading my legs. Every part of me wanted him to be looking, but I refused to turn and see if he was.

“I don’t want a show, Christina.” The lightest touch traced my exposed pussy. His voice was too soft, too intent. I shuddered at what lay beneath it. “I’m not going to give you a blue ribbon.” A sudden smack between my legs made me cry out. Fiery pleasure blossomed. “All I want is for you to lose control.”

For once, I had nothing to say. I bit a mouthful of pillow and gripped the covers.

“Hands behind your back.”

I waited, but no more words came. His palms, firm on my thighs, didn’t move. He was motionless behind me, a statue. I couldn’t see him, but I sensed every contour of his flinty form.

Slowly, shaking, I lifted my hands and moved them behind my back, holding my elbows. I felt off-balance, struggling to steady myself.

“I wish you could see your ass right now, cheerleader.” His voice was husky with lust. “It’s so pink and sweet. But you deserve more, don’t you?”

His cock sank into me before I knew what to expect. I was open and vulnerable and helpless to do anything except receive the fierce thrusts. His hand was heavy on my head, his pillow cottony between my teeth. My ass squeezed down on fullness. He was working his thumb back in, gripping my hip cruelly as he fucked me. His sheets smelled clean, freshly washed, and I focused on the scent as he flooded my body with sensation.

“So wet,” he whispered. “So soaking wet and wanting. You’re a fucking mess.” His voice was ragged, his thrusts lengthening. “Now beg for my cum.”

“Please, Patrick,” I sobbed into the covers. He was still holding my head down. “Cum inside me.”

“Good girl,” he whispered.

I seized up. Growls filled my ears, so animal yet so fucking intimate. Force shook my body as he found his release.

When he pulled out, I puddled on the bed. My breath slowed down, my cheek against his sheets. His hand rested on my back.

“Better?” he finally whispered.

I kept my eyes closed, as if the moment would burst when I looked at him. “Hm?”

“Are you doing better than when you came in?”

“I am, actually.” My voice was cracked.

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