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Masked (Royally Hot 2)

Page 36

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Hovering over her, I ran the V of my hand down her slender throat.

“Are you going to be good, or do I need to restrain this, too?”

She looked scared and aroused together, exactly like she needed to be. “I’m… It’s up to you.”

My growl snuck out of my throat before I could stop it. “What a good fucking answer,” I said. “But I don’t ask you questions for no reason. Tell me.”

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

Still looking her in the eye, I ran my hand down the center line of her body, down her throat, her breastbone, her stomach, her pelvis, and to her pussy. Just as I had with her nipple, I rolled her clit between thumb and forefinger. She hissed and tried to buck back, but the restraints were too tight and she couldn’t move. Fucking perfect.

I’d made her come a fuckload of times the night before and I knew she was sensitive. The tip of my cock was raw; I could only imagine what I’d done to the inside of her pussy. But that didn’t fucking matter to me.

“You’re going to want me to stop. I will not stop.”

Her body shuddered and she closed her eyes. She bit her lip as I rolled her clit back and forth, back and forth, easing up on the pressure only long enough for her to answer.

“I understand.”

I knew she’d wanted to ask Won’t stop what? But she’d held her tongue. I leaned back over her again and kissed her deep and long.

“You’re doing so well,” I murmured.

The fear in her eyes softened and she smiled up at me. “I am?”

“Yes, my sweet girl.” I slid two fingers inside her again. “You’re perfect, baby.”

A happy little sigh was accompanied by a curl of her toes. “Thank you.”

“But remember,” I said, pulling over a chair that I had beside the table. “I will not stop.”

My praising her had given her the courage I’d intended. “I understand.”

I sat down on the chair backwards, legs wide, throbbing cock comfortable. More or less. The only place it would ever really be comfortable again was inside Iris. But this was alright for the fucking moment. From this position, I had a perfect view of the petal-like pink ripples of her folds and opening.

Perfect.

Using a big glass dildo from the shelf to my left, I penetrated her. The glass was cold and her body responded to the temperature play with a wave of goosebumps that made her nipples pucker.

“Do you know what you’re going to call me?”

“Not yet. Still think….” She trailed off as my mouth met her pussy. “...Thinking,” she whispered.

I started slow, fucking her with the dildo while I ate her out. I knew her angles, I knew her secrets, and it didn’t take me long to get where I needed her to go. For the first orgasm, anyway.

Toes curled, thighs quivering, she tipped her head back, lengthening that throat I loved to suck. She kicked the table once, twice, and then bit the very tip of her tongue, tipping her hips forward into my mouth as she came. One.

Still fucking her slowly with the glass dildo, I changed my rhythm with my tongue, using the length rather than the tip, keeping her clit compressed. It was harder for her to get there. Her body was spent, her pussy exhausted.

“I can’t…I…” she whined.

Excuse me?

I didn’t want to leave her pussy, but no chance was I going to let her get away with that bullshit. I ripped my mouth away from her opening with a sucking slurp.

“I can’t are not words you will use, my sweet Iris. You will always at least try for me. I will not ask you to do anything I know is beyond your means. Yes you can and yes you will,” I said, and went back to eating her out.

Her body rolled with a warning pulse that she was getting close. My voice had done that. Just my fucking voice. As soon as my tongue hit her clit, she was giving me two.

She was getting in the rhythm. But I could feel from the way she writhed that she didn’t fucking believe I was doing this to her. If she thought I was going to give in to her writhes and pants, she was dead wrong. There was only one way out of this and she knew it. She could mutter the word we’d agreed upon and everything would stop. The thought of it drove me wild, knowing that I’d have to draw back if she said it, knowing that I would and how much it would hurt was exquisite to me. All the power was in her hands, we both knew it, yet here I was driving her to the edge of insanity. She slapped the table hard, like she was folding a bad hand of cards, trying to say she gave up. It was my signal to give it to her even harder, longer, stronger.



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