He let out a harsh groan as he delivered an even stronger stoke. “You like it, though…Admit it.”
I gasped, eyes welling with tears as he stared intently at me, admitting, “Yeah, Hunt…Yeah.”
“Fuck,” he cursed, propping himself up on his elbows to look down our bodies to where we were joined. “Fuck, flower, look how tiny you look with my giant cock inside you.”
His words—
“Oh, my God,” I whispered, trembling.
“God?” He groaned, chuckling wickedly. “Your god is my cock right now, Skye. It’s making you lose yourself—you can’t get enough. You’d fucking beg for it, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” I let out.
“Like I thought. You love it.”
“Yes.”
“You want me to fuck you until you’re broken.”
A pained tear escaped my eye as he pushed into me, stretching me. My voice was hardly above a whisper. “Yes.”
“I’ll break you,” he made an oath then, moaning out a curse. “Fuck, I will break you, Skye, like you’ve broken me. We’ll put the pieces together, but I want some of yours, and you’ll take some of mine. You got it? You listening to me?”
“Yes.”
He fucked me ruthlessly after that, satisfied by my answer, at the way my body opened for him, allowing him inside me, deeply, fully.
My eyes rolled to the back of my head. I unravelled beneath him, moaning as he fucked me savagely. I held onto him, fingernails digging into him, feeling his back muscles rippling under my touch as he moved quickly. Slicked skin, broken kisses, tongues colliding, sweat and musk and so much ofus.
He said things to me in the heat of the moment.
Words that made my skin blaze, and my pussy clench around him.
He wanted to feel me pulse around him. He wanted to cover me in his come. He wanted me to watch me lick it off my skin, and off his cock, and then he wanted to fuck me again and again, until I could hardly walk without feeling the aches of our time together.
“You’re gonna stay right here,” he groaned, lost in his own pleasure. “You’re not going anywhere…You’re staying, Skye.”
I pulsed around him so many times that night, and then I lay spent as he continued to fuck me, asking me when he was uncertain, “Does it still hurt?”
“Yes,” I weakly murmured. “But don’t stop.”
And with a groan, he said, “I won’t.”