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His vein-mapped hands unzip his pants, and he strips down to nothing.
I was right.
He’s already so hard, precum glistening on the end of his thick cock, and he steps toward me, his hand closing in a fist around himself.
I watch as he strokes his hardness, his eyes locked on mine as they half-close, lidded with want.
And then he asks, voice almost too thick with need to be audible.
“Stand up. Legs spread and hands on the table. Now.”
I scramble to obey, my thighs still slick with my own cum, making sounds that normally would have me cringing with embarrassment.
Now it’s like a badge of the orgasms he gave.
Before I can do as he says, he grabs my arms and pulls me roughly against him, his mouth crushing down on me.
I can’t get over the way he kisses.
Like he’s half-crazed with thirst, and I’m an oasis in the desert.
He sucks the breath out of me as his lips crush against mine, forever imprinting the feel of his against my mouth.
And when he pulls away, it always feels like a punishment.
But I don’t have time to dwell on it, because his hand is still wrapped around my arm. He roughly spins me around and bends me over the table.
“Spread those legs for me, sweetheart. Let me see that sweet little pussy I’m about to make mine.”
Filthy fucking words that make me ache with the need to please.
I widen my stance, lifting my hips, bracing my hands on the edge of the desk, waiting.
Foil rips, and then he’s there between my legs, his fingers tracing down my back, all the way down my ass and then into my pussy.
He swirls them once, twice, then pulls out barely long enough for me to moan his name.
Then, reaching around, he crams his fingers into my mouth at the same time he thrusts inside me.
Impaled at both ends by him, I gasp.
“Fuck, Luna,” he growls against my ear. His voice is so rough with lust, my skin trills with pleasure that I can make him sound that way.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I wriggle, my pussy stretching, almost burning as it stretches to take him. His two fingers barely prepared me for his thickness.
He pulls out—both out of my mouth and my pussy.
Then, his hands gripping my hips, he slides into me again, this time slowly, steadily, controlled.
I know he must feel the way my pussy pulses around him, trying to make room for his length, his thickness.
I grip the table, trying to breathe.
“So fucking tight,” he growls.
“Kingsley, I…”
