Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline 1)

She gritted her teeth as heat flooded through her, wondering if he knew how bad he was turning her on before he even touched her. It wasn’t fair.

The belt came down, leaving a stinging smack, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. Not so bad, and his expression was intense and hot.

“Sorry for making you jealous on purpose, Fox.”

He grunted an acknowledgement, but didn’t pause.

The second smack was harder, and she clenched involuntarily, making her more aware of the plug in her ass.

She said it again, but had to stop herself from smiling. He kept checking her expression in the mirror.

Three, four, five . . . Her brain shut off somewhere, only processing the burn of her ass, the ache of desire between her legs, and the movement of her mouth saying words she hoped were right.

A particularly hard hit landed, and she went to her belly on the carpet, but he pulled her back into position.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growled.

Six. Seven. Eight . . .

He paused, running a rough hand over the hot flesh of her ass, grabbing it and abrading it with his calluses. God, he was mean. He grabbed the base of the buttplug and played with it, fucking her ass with slow strokes that made her whine, yet hold very, very still.

Nine. Ten.

A deep haze claimed her, melding the pleasure and pain into one chaotic mess in her head. Her ass hurt like a bitch, and eventually she forgot what to say, not that she could make words past the sobbing noises that kept coming from her throat.

He picked her up and carried her to the bed, putting her facedown on the edge of it. She was glad he hadn’t laid her on her back, but if she was hoping for a break, she was sadly mistaken. Again, he fucked her with the plug, pulling it further out then plunging it back in until she was gasping and desperate, before he withdrew it completely. It was a relief, but left her so needy she didn’t know what to do or even what to want.

Where the other plug came from she didn’t know, but the coolness of the lube startled her. He held her ass cheeks apart with his fingers as he twirled the new plug around her anus, then slowly convinced her body to take it for him. It filled her so full her eyes went wide with dismay just before it tapered off to the base.

“Ah, good girl,” he murmured. “So much easier when you don’t fight it. You want my cock in here though, don’t you? This plug isn’t big enough for you, is it?”

Her response was only a whine.

The plug was too damn big, and the discomfort made her ache. And it was smaller than him? Other than the burning need of her pussy, and the wild feeling of invasion and intimacy, she couldn’t understand why some women said they liked this. It was degrading and embarrassing and made her want to come so bad that clenching her thighs would probably get her off. Okay, maybe it was that.

The ghost of his breath over the cheek of her burning ass made her realize how closely he was watching the process, and she wished she had enough brainpower left to be embarrassed. She was too far gone to care about anything more than how badly she needed to come.

He played with the plug, making it move disturbingly. The sounds he drew from her were punctuated by his own. After a lot of toying, he withdrew the thing, and she was so turned on she didn’t care if he was planning to fuck her with something huger and less pleasant than his dick.

“Your body keeps shutting up tight, Addison, but I can’t wait anymore,” he said grimly. “I don’t even know how long I’m going to last.” He was behind her then, tracing the tip of his cock up and down her cleft. When he positioned himself against her asshole, he stopped. “Now, I want you to back up and impale your sweet little body with my cock. Do you think you can do that?”

“No,” she mewled. “You do it.”

“If you do it, you can control how fast this goes, little girl. I’m desperate to be inside you, but I don’t want to hurt you. Come on, you can do this.” He held himself steady, but didn’t push into her even though he sounded like he was suffering as much as she was.

Gingerly, she pressed back, feeling the burning stretch her body trying to accommodate the thick head of his cock. Whether his grunt was pleasure or pain she wasn’t sure. He pulled away and added more lube, then put himself back in position. She pushed back again, using her hands and feet for leverage, squirming and fucking his cock into her until she was sure she couldn’t take anymore. It burned and ached, but the pressure in her lower belly, the throb of her clit, insisted she wanted more.

“Is that all of it?” she gasped.

“No, baby,” he said through gritted teeth. “The head is in, but not much more than that.”

“Oh god,” she cried. Her legs were quaking, and if the bed wasn’t supporting her upper half she’d have fallen.

“I know,” he murmured sympathetically, his voice thick. “You’re such a good girl. Can you take more for me?”

She struggled to get him farther in, to take him deep inside her body, the sensation of burning soreness and being overfilled awing her. His grunts of agonized pleasure made her want to take him all, but it was one of the most unpleasant things she’d ever experienced. It also, strangely, pried open a deeper submission than she’d realized she was capable of. She felt . . . owned.

A million years later, when her ass finally met his hips, he held her still, letting her get used to the feeling of having an iron bar rammed up her ass. He breathed hard, and every twitch and shudder of his body brought a fresh twinge of discomfort.