Chapter 4 #5
“Christ, you’re perfect,” he growled, voice dark with awe and filthy promise. His thumbs parted me further, the air cool against my hole, making me clench and ache. I could feel his eyes on me, devouring every detail, drinking in how swollen and pink I was for him, slick with sweat and desperation.
A shudder rolled through me, need clawing at my insides.
My cock throbbed beneath me, thick and heavy, smearing precome onto the sheets.
Edward’s breath ghosted over my skin, hot and greedy, lips following where his hands had claimed.
His tongue pressed in at the base of my spine, tracing a path down the crease, tasting the salt and heat, every lick a brand.
He paused at the edge of my hole, tongue flicking out to tease, just barely touching, enough to make my hips jerk back, begging without words. A low, satisfied chuckle vibrated against my skin, followed by a filthy, wet kiss right where I needed him most.
Tongue flattened, then pressed inside, slow at first—slick, deliberate, claiming me in the most intimate way.
I moaned, sharp and unguarded, hips grinding back into his mouth, needing him deeper, harder, filthier.
Every stroke sent lightning up my spine, every swirl and thrust making me wetter, needier, desperate to be filled.
He devoured me like a man starved, mouth working my hole, tongue fucking inside, circling, spreading spit and heat until I was shaking, sweat pooling at the small of my back.
My thighs trembled, legs falling open, shameless in my want.
Edward’s hands gripped my cheeks, holding me wide, forcing me to take everything he gave.
“Such a good boy for me,” he rasped, voice vibrating against my skin, tongue never pausing. “Taking it so well. Gonna open you up, make you so ready for me, all sloppy and aching to be bred.”
The words crashed over me, raw and unfiltered, stoking the fire that burned in my gut. I could only gasp and beg, mind gone hazy with pleasure, every nerve ending singing for him. My cock throbbed, leaking onto the sheets, so hard it almost hurt.
Edward didn’t stop. He worked me open, tongue plunging deep, then pulling out to tease, spit slicking my hole until I was wet, dripping, desperate for more. A thick finger replaced his tongue, pressing in, twisting, stretching me wide as he watched, eyes dark with hunger.
“Fuck, look at how you open for me,” he murmured, admiration rough in his tone. “So eager. So fucking pretty. Can’t wait to fill you, pump you so full you’ll be leaking me for days.”
Another finger joined the first, scissoring, stretching, finding that spot inside that made my vision blur, pleasure snapping through me in sharp, electric bursts. My hips jerked, mouth open in a wordless plea, drool slipping down my chin as I lost myself to the sensation.
Pressure mounted inside me, nerve endings sparking wild as those thick fingers worked me open. The sharp sound of spit hitting my hole sent a bolt of want through my core, my muscles clenching greedily around him, desperate for more.
A rough, reverent growl broke the silence.
“Christ, baby, you grip me so tight. This pretty pink hole—so hungry for me, it’s obscene.
” Fingers twisted, curling against that spot deep inside, wrenching a guttural moan from my throat.
Sweat gathered at the small of my back, every part of me slick and trembling, every part wanting him deeper.
“Can't get enough of this,” he murmured, his thumb spreading my rim wider, exposing me in a way that felt both filthy and sacred. “You're squeezing me so fucking hard. Greedy, aren’t you? Want every finger, every inch, stuffed inside until you’re dripping for me.”
A third finger pressed in, stretching me further.
Pain flared, sweet and bright, gone as fast as it came, replaced by that feverish, stretching fullness.
My vision blurred as I rocked back into his hand, whimpering, wordless, needy.
The mattress shook with every thrust of his fingers, the room alive with the slick sounds of spit and want.
“Good boy,” he praised, voice honeyed and rough.
“Take it all. You can handle it, can’t you?
Want to see you wrecked for me, all opened up, desperate for my cock.
” His other hand slipped beneath me, palm skimming my thigh, trailing higher, knuckles brushing the base of my cock where it hung swollen and neglected.
Fingers pushed deeper, twisting, spreading me open until it felt like nothing in the world could fill me enough. “Gonna breed this perfect hole, baby,” he promised, words a fever, “pump you so full you’ll feel me for days. But first, I need to taste just how hard you ache for me.”
Warm breath ghosted up my spine, then his lips pressed to my hip, kissing a line over flushed skin, soft and hungry.
My cock jumped when his hand found it, big fingers wrapping around the base and squeezing, drawing a slick bead of precome from the tip.
The sight of my cock in his fist, thick and flushed, made something possessive flare in his eyes.
“Fuck, you’re massive,” Edward groaned, wonder in his tone, as if seeing it for the first time.
“No wonder you’re so cocky, sweetheart.” His thumb smeared precome over the head, then his lips descended, tongue swirling over the slit.
I cried out, every muscle locking tight, the sensation so sharp, so filthy, it nearly made me see stars.
His mouth worked down my shaft, slow and greedy, tongue mapping every vein, every ridge. Wet heat surrounded me, his lips sliding lower, throat relaxing as he took me deeper. A strangled gasp escaped me, fingers digging into the sheets, hips rocking helplessly toward the heat of his mouth.
He hummed low, like he loved the feel of me filling him up, lips sealing around the head as he swallowed.
Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth, messy and obscene, spit mingling with my precome, pooling at the base where his fingers gripped tight.
He pulled back just enough to drag his tongue along the underside, worshipful, savoring every inch like I was something precious he’d earned.
“Perfect,” he breathed, voice ruined, “so fucking thick, I want to choke on it. You taste like sin, Miles.” His tongue teased the slit, gathering the slick there, then pressed kisses down the shaft, lips bruising, needy.
Hands slid beneath me, cupping my ass, spreading me wide so he could mouth at my hole, tongue pressing inside again, sloppy and determined.
Each time he returned to my cock, he swallowed me to the root, making my breath stutter and my body jerk.
His fingers thrust deep, curling, stretching, opening me up in rhythm with his sucking mouth. Every nerve ending sang for him.
Words slipped out between panting breaths. “Please, please, don’t stop. Need you inside. Need you to fuck me, fill me up—want to feel you leaking out of me for days.”
He broke away only to spit on his hand, slicking his fingers and shoving them back in, fucking me open with the kind of confidence that came from years of knowing exactly how to ruin a man.
“You’re going to get everything, baby. Gonna watch you take my cock, see that greedy hole stretched wide, dripping with me. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need.”
The way he said it—low, rough, that filthy pet name on his lips—made my whole body clench. My cock twitched, leaking, begging for more. I arched my back, pushed my ass higher, shameless and open for him.
“God, you’re desperate,” Edward rasped. “Starving for it. Bet you fantasized about this—being fucked open, filled up, made into my perfect little mess. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m going to breed you so deep you’ll taste me on your tongue for weeks.”
Tongue licked a stripe from base to tip, then he swallowed me again, lips sucking at the head until I was trembling, right at the edge. I barely managed to choke out a warning. “Gonna—fuck, I’m close—”
He pulled off with a wet pop, stroking my cock with one hand while his fingers stayed deep inside, scissoring, twisting. “Don’t you dare come yet,” he ordered, voice rough silk. “Not until you’re split open, cock buried in this tight ass, pumping my load into you where it belongs.”
My whole body shook at the promise, sweat dripping down my sides, legs splayed wide, as his fingers worked me mercilessly, pressing right against that spot that made my vision go white.
Each time I thought I’d break, he pulled back, licking my rim, humming in approval at how open and messy I was for him.
Fingers left me aching, empty, still quivering from the brink he’d teased me to.
Strong arms wrapped around my waist, hauling me off the bed with effortless command.
My knees hit the floor, the plush rug scraping at bare skin.
My cock jutted out, heavy and flushed, already leaking, and I couldn’t care less about the indignity—I needed to worship, to be claimed, to be fed what I’d been begging for since the second I saw him.
Edward stood above me, chest rising with rough, uneven breaths, sweat shining at the hollow of his throat.
The next moment, those last barriers—his briefs, sweat-soaked and stretched over the obscene bulge beneath—were peeled down his thighs and kicked aside.
His cock sprang free, thick, flushed dark with need, bobbing right in front of my face.
A sharp gasp escaped me, mouth falling open as he stroked himself once, twice, fingers tight around the base. The scent of him—raw, musky, edged with his cologne—hit my senses like a drug. I barely managed to stifle a moan, tongue darting out instinctively, desperate to taste.
Rough fingers hooked my jaw, tilting my face up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes were molten, pupils blown wide, the daddy in him radiating pure, feral hunger. “Open,” he ordered, voice deep and commanding. I obeyed, lips parted, tongue out, hungry for whatever he wanted to give.