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I’m wetter than I’ve ever been. Wetter and needy and desperate to be filled.
I sit up and take my shorts off, throwing them away. His eyes practically glow as he stares at the juncture between my thighs. He watches with lustful interest as I straddle him again, my pussy lips parting to expose my clitoris.
“Jesus, you’re perfect.”
Carefully, I move over his shaft, rubbing myself against it. Up and down I move, until I sense he’s being tortured as much as I am and I’ve made his entire length slick with my juices.
He groans, his hands fisting the sheet beneath him, and I like the sense of power I have. So I stop and grin.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you a taste of your own medicine,” I say, waiting a few seconds before I start anew. Then, again, I stop.
This time, he growls. “You’re going to kill me.”
“You weren’t so concerned with killingme. Now take it like a man.” I rub myself against him again, this time, coming close to coming myself.
“Damn it, woman! Either sit on it or get off.”
I giggle, loving how the tables have turned. Placing the head of his cock at my entrance, I tease him, pulling up when he attempts to thrust. I bend down and lick his lips when he groans in frustration.
Before I can move away, his arms come around my waist and clamp down as in one powerful thrust, he enters me.
The wind is knocked out of me as he fills me beyond anything I’ve ever felt. I gasp and buck, but he holds tight, reminding me that he truly is as wild and untamed as I imagined. He’s savage and unpredictable. And allthatis between my legs.
He’s inside me to the hilt, my nipples pressed against his chest, and yet the moment I catch my breath, I find myself wanting more.
My lips search for his and I kiss him with abandon, telling him without words what I want. Asking for it. Begging for it.
And he gets the message loud and clear.
Rolling me over, he begins to pound into me so fiercely, I gasp into his mouth. He’s penetrating me so deeply, I feel him everywhere.
Then he sits up and slows his movements, angling himself so that he’s rubbing the perfect spot with each thrust.
“Touch between your legs, Sonia. I want you to feel where we’re joined.”
I do as he says, sliding my fingers through my folds to where his thick shaft disappears inside me. “Jesucristo,” I moan.
“You took me. Every inch.” He slides in and out, taking his time, letting me explore the feel of him. “I’ve dreamed about you, Sonia. Imagined myself fucking you. Of burying my cock inside you. Did you think of me?”
“Yes,” I sigh.
“Did you touch yourself when you did?”
“Yes.”
“Touch yourself now,” he says.
I move my fingers to my clit, grazing the tip slightly. It’s swollen with arousal and extremely sensitive. My gaze locks onto his as I touch myself, as he continues to pump into me just like in my fantasies.
The sensory overload pushes me over the edge, and I come undone with the blankets in my fists and his name on my lips.
Only when I’ve ridden out my release does he let go, hammering into me ruthlessly, painfully, deliciously hard, until I’m sure he’ll split me in two, but I don’t care.
Then he comes too, roaring in a way that pleases every feminine part of my anatomy. When he’s done, he falls beside me. I want to get up. I should. But I can’t when I’m still high from whatever the hell drug he is.
So I lie here waiting for it to wear off, only to find myself wanting him all over again. Wanting that out-of-control fire I’ve so badly wished for and finally found with him.
Yes, he is a drug. A dangerous one that will probably consume my soul in the end. But the craving is too strong to deny.
