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“What, sweetheart? What do you need?”
“I don’t know,” I whimper.
He pulls out, each inch stroking my insides. Then, hands digging ten finger trenches into my hips, he slams into me again, ramming back in almost as fast as the first time.
But deeper.
“Do you need me to fuck you? Is that what you need, my sweet little slut? Does your pussy need me to make it mine?”
“Please.”
His arms come around my waist, pulling me to him hard as he starts to thrust faster.
Sweat drips down my back, and his teeth dig deep into my shoulder, drawing blood.
But I don’t fucking care.
I never knew I needed to feel this—completely fucked and taken by someone, by a man.
But maybe it’s because I didn’t know it until I met Kingsley.
“Take it, sweetheart,” he grunts into my ear. “God, your pussy was molded for me. You were made for me, weren’t you?”
I throw my head back in answer, and he brushes the hair out of my face as he grabs my throat, kissing me with all the savagery of a starving man.
His hips rock back and forth, driving his cock harder into me, then he pulls my hand off the table and leads it to my clit, and together we rub circles over it.
I come almost instantly, exploding, messy, all over his cock as he growls his approval.
“Look at you, dripping down my balls. You have no idea how fucking sexy you look on my cock, coming like that. Do you need more? Hmm?”
I nod, and he flips me around, lifts me onto the table, and pushs my legs up over his shoulders. He cages me between his hands as his cock slams into me, almost choking me with how deep he gets inside me. His pubic bone grazes against my clit with every thrust, and he keeps up the rhythms until I come again, scratching my nails down his back and making him grunt from the delicious pain.
And as my pussy ripples around his cock, he roars, his eyes on me as his whole body convulses and comes, tensing as he climaxes inside me.
His hands grip my thigh, bruising me. Branding me.
Finally, the last of our orgasms fading, he gently lowers my legs and falls to the floor, taking me with him.
He grabs his clothes and bundles them under his head before he pulls me against him, and I rest my head on his chest.
It’s already becoming my favorite place I’ve ever laid my head.
A niggling voice tells me I’m going to be in trouble if I keep thinking that way.
But for now, all I want is to get closer to him.
“You okay?” he asks, after I don’t say anything for a few minutes.
If I thought my body was Jell-O after he had his mouth on me, right now I’m like primordial ooze.
“Mm-hmm. Bit thirsty.”
His chest rumbles with disapproval. “Okay, let me—”
“Don’t you dare move,” I warn him.
He chuckles and buries his face in my hair, then kisses the top of my head. “Consider me dareless,” he says before lying back down.
