Pushing Her Limits (Masters of Adrenaline 3) - Page 21

“Please, Atlas . . .”

“Please? What exactly are you begging me for? ‘Please’ is pretty vague.”

“Anything.”

“‘Anything’ is probably not the best thing to say to a man like me.”

She wanted to cry.

His tongue dipped down and flicked over the sensitive skin above her clit. The intense rush of pleasure made her desperate for more, but he stopped to check her expression. Before she started begging for more, he licked her again, and her hips bucked even though she tried hard to stay still. Oh god, if he stopped again she was going to die.

“I’m sorry,” she babbled.

He gave a short laugh. “Just do your best to stay still for me, girl. If you’re good I might let you come.”

Might?

She was about to insist that he had to let her come, but then his mouth was on her and she couldn’t think of words. One thick finger, then two were coaxed up inside of her, filling her, as his mouth performed some sort of evil magic on her pussy. His tongue did things that stole her breath and her vision, and she went into a state of trancelike need.

Don’t move.

Be a good girl.

His hands closed on the insides of her thighs, which he spread wider and pushed back, until he could get at every inch of her. The push of his big fingers into her needy pussy, the feel of his clever mouth on her, licking and sucking, making her keen and quiver, and beg—fuck, she kept begging to come and didn’t even know what she was saying. She couldn’t care. She was so far past caring. When he withdrew his fingers right as she was about to get off, she fought him, but he held her down, quieting her with gentle, soothing words until she lay still and biddable again.

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass, sweetheart?”

“No.”

“I’m going to slide my finger into you, and you tell me if it hurts, okay?”

“Okay.” It sounded as though she was crying, which made her feel vaguely stupid, but it was only frustrated lust. He knew exactly when to stop so that she didn’t come, and if he did it again, she was going to scream like a motherfucking banshee until he let her.

She felt so weak and helpless with him, as if he’d taken all of her free will. Hell, she’d thought she’d never let a man near her ass, up until the moment she’d agreed. She’d said no to men she’d thought she was in love with at the time. She barely knew this guy, and yet seemed to be willing to let him do anything.

His tongue and fingers were everywhere, until she wasn’t sure which was which. She didn’t care. Something brushed over her anus and she flinched, her breath catching as every nerve in her body went on high alert. The second touch made her swear, and she tried to scoot up the bed and away from him, but he held her in place.

“Shhh, that’s a good girl now. You stay still for me and I’ll make this good for you.”

“But why?” she pleaded. “Why do you want to? There are other things you could do.”

“Yes, but I’m loving the fact that you don’t want me to, but will still let me do it.” He fastened his mouth over her sore, throbbing clit and sucked, then gently worried at the sensitive bud with his teeth. When she was screaming for him, teetering on the edge of orgasm, he stopped.

Just as her pulse slowed, his finger traced over her anus again, then again. He paused to spread slickness from her pussy downward, even though she could already feel herself dripping down the crack of her ass. Around and around his teasing fingers went, and his tongue flicked back and forth over her clit, until she had lost most of her shyness. The tip of his finger pressed against her asshole, and she could feel him broaching her. She squeezed her muscles there, suddenly wanting to keep him out. Should she be giving her ass up so easily? What was he going to think of her?

She couldn’t bring herself to stop him, though—didn’t want him to stop. Even though she clenched to keep him out, her resistance only lasted so long until she felt her body opening to him.

“Oh . . . oh . . .” she panted, shuddering. There was a moment of reprieve while he withdrew to gather more lubrication, then he coaxed his finger deeper, deeper, until she’d taken it all. It felt odd, and too good, and she was embarrassed at how much it was turning her on. She wasn’t sure whether she was so aroused from the actual feel of it, or from the fact that he was doing something so dirty to her, or maybe both.

Deep in her ass his finger squirmed, vibrated. His mouth came back down on her clit, and she realized he’d stopped going down on her to watch her reactions. All that mattered now was his wicked tongue, and the feel of him slowly finger-fucking her asshole, and that she teetered on the brink of the most monumental orgasm she’d ever experienced. If she came so hard from this, what did that mean? He’d want to fuck her ass, and she had a feeling his dick would be a hell of a lot bigger than one finger.

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nbsp; She tried to fend off her impending orgasm, but the tension in her lower belly had wound so hard and tight that it hurt. His finger in her ass felt shameful and dirty and amazing. And his mouth . . . fuck . . . he knew how to use his mouth. Slow and persistent, and that tongue of his . . .

She choked on a sob as the orgasm fired through her. He held her hips down with his forearm as he patiently suckled and bit her clit, humming in appreciation at her cries, wriggling a second finger into her ass while she was distracted, and extending her orgasm until her toes ached from curling them. The waves of pleasure he forced upon her made her feel weak and feverish, but she never wanted him to stop. When she buried her hands in his hair, he let her, but she didn’t try to direct a man who so obviously knew what he was doing.

Finally, he couldn’t wring one more orgasm out of her, and he slowed, then stopped. He withdrew his fingers, moving them deftly on their departure, making her cry out one last time. Impatiently, he grabbed her by the hair, and even though she felt like a dishrag, the tension in his body revived her arousal.

Tags: Sparrow Beckett Masters of Adrenaline Erotic
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