He was in control. She knew, and so did he. Working her body and preparing her exactly the way he wanted.
All she could do was stand there, bent over, and take it.
“I need you to give up more,” he said, thrusting those two fingers into her again with an easy glide. But he kept them deep and rubbed the spot inside while he licked madly at her clit.
As if a dam burst, she came hard and fast.
“There it is,” he rasped against her and kept licking.
She screamed his name. Before her orgasm was even finished rushing through her, he pulled away, and she heard the rip of cellophane.
“That’s my girl,” he said, his palm cupping between her legs, as if to gather moisture. She was panting, her body still contracting from the aftershocks of an orgasm that was half fulfilled.
She peeled her eyes open and looked over her shoulder to catch of glimpse of him.
He was rubbing his cock, coating the condom with her cream. Though it was dark and she could only make out shadows, the sight of him using what he’d wrought from her on himself was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
He kicked her heels apart, spreading her wider. The tip of his cock met her weeping entrance and she breathed deep, desperate for this moment. Her skin was buzzing, her core aching and empty.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he rasped. “And tonight, you’re all mine.”
He thrust hard, sinking himself all the way to the hilt. A slice of shock, lust, and just a hint of pain raced through her like a bullet.
“Fuck!” he growled. “So perfect.”
He stirred his hips, and she gasped. He was thick, long, and hit every single nerve she had.
“You understand now?” he asked, as if he was on the brink of control himself. “You’re drenched, taking all of me, and still so fucking tight.”
Yes, he was right. Prepping her was a good thing, because even with her soaked from an orgasm, it was till a tight fit. But nothing felt more right. More amazing.
He withdrew completely. Cold air whooshed over her heated flesh, and she lost her mind. Was ready to beg.
“Come back!” She struggled against her bounds and went to move to him, to chase him down if she had to, but his palm landed heavy on her neck, keeping her bent over the table.
“Tell me,” he said, sliding his cock along her folds, and she sighed with contentment. He was still there. Now if only she could get him back inside. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she said.
“How?” He rubbed that thick length along her again. “I want to hear you say how you want me.”
“Deep,” she murmured.
“Details,” he countered, continuing his teasing. He was so close, right there, but not breeching. “What do you want deep? What does this pretty pussy want?”
A jolt of lust raced at his words. He was making her say it. Waking up her body and her mind. Forcing her to voice what she wanted. He made her feel like it was okay to say such things.
“I want your cock. Hard…deep…” She wiggled her bottom. “I want to come. Want to scream. I want…” And the truth hit her, what she was trying to explain earlier. “I want you to fuck me until the pleasure is so much it borders on pain.”
Because that’s where she’d been for years. On the bri
nk of pain from wanting him.
“You surprise me,” he mumbled, so soft she barely heard it. But he sounded…amazed? As if they’d connected in a way he hadn’t expected.
“Trust,” he said. “Remember what I said about that?”
“Yes,” she said. “You’re trusting me to tell you the truth. I am.”