Chapter 44 BETH #2
His low groan vibrated against my lips as he pressed his body to my searing one, his heat overwhelming, his weight pinning me down.
The rough friction of his clothed length brushing against my bare, aching core sent a jolt of pleasure up my spine.
“Do you feel that?” His voice was husky, his lips over mine. “That’s what this pussy fucking does to me. Seven nights without it, I felt like dying.”
His hands moved with purpose, fingers mapping my skin, gliding down my sides gripping my thighs as he spread them wide.
A shudder wracked my spine as he shifted, his cock pressing harder against my entrance, teasing but refusing to give me what I now craved.
“Zaghan…” I sounded breathless, needy, desperate. But my protest was swallowed by another searing kiss, deep, possessive, and consuming, breaking every ounce of my resolve.
His tongue swiped against mine, his teeth nipping at my lower lip, but he soothed the burn with a slow, deliberate lick. He was intoxicating, a mixture of whiskey and sin, then a hint of coffee. Driving me insane, making me come apart, shattering in his arms.
He pulled back, and I was left panting, lips tingling, as my body thrummed with anticipation.
His eyes roamed my face, dark with lust, crazed with desire.
Muttering fuck under his breath, he lifted his body off me, ripping his shirt off, and then his pants and boxers.
The dim light cast a shadow over his pale and inked skin, highlighting the ridges of his muscles.
I lifted my hand subconsciously, touching him. I had noticed that I loved touching him. His skin was warm beneath my palm, burning when his body pressed against my naked one, his chest brushing my breasts and swollen nipples.
“I wish there’s a mirror where you can see yourself right now.” His fingers trailed down the valley of my breast, my stomach, and stopped where I desperately wanted him the most, plunging deep inside. “So flushed.” Thrust. “So desperate.” Thrust. “So fucking mine.”
“Oh my god!” I arched off the bed when he began to pump the fingers inside me, a gasp slicing past my lips as pleasure crackled through my nerves like a fire licking at dry wood.
“You know you’re a fucking hypocrite right?
” He looked at me through the curve of his frosty lashes, his fingers stroking me slowly, lazily, making me whimper and nearly begging.
“Always making a villain out of me. Telling me not to touch you. Yelling that you don’t want this.
Making it sound like I’m taking advantage of you, and yet here you are, as always, dripping, begging me to fuck you, to bury my cock inside your needy pussy and fuck your little brains out. ”
He rolled my clit between his fingers, earning a desperate cry from me. “But don’t worry, we have enough time. Soon, I’ll straighten you out.”
His words were true. Even I hated myself for how quickly my body answered his touch when all I wanted to do was stay away from him. Right now, I wanted to push him off, but when he slid two fingers inside me, curling them just right, I fucking fell apart.
My hips rolled against his thrusts, my thighs quaking, a series of moans falling from my lips, while he groaned in response to my body’s reaction to his touch.
“Yes, that’s it,” he coaxed, his fingers working me open. “Break for me, baby. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel. Give me all your pleasures.”
My fingers tightened around his shoulder, my free hand tangling in the sheet as pleasure coiled tight in my stomach.
I was at the edge now, burning, teetering. I was falling apart around him.
I was close. So close. And then…he pulled away.
“No, please,” I whimpered, shaking my head.
He smirked.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured, positioning his cock between my thighs. “Remember I said we’ll be doing this all night? I’m just getting started here.”
He fisted himself in his palm, the thick head of his cock dragging through my slick folds, coating himself in my arousal.
“Ready?”
I didn’t get a chance to prepare a reply as he thrust in, slow and deep, stretching me out inch by inch because no matter how many times he fucked me, I could never truly take him at a go. He was so big.
I felt every ridge and every pulse, a loud moan tearing from my lips as I clawed at his back, my nails dragging against the flesh, heels digging into his toned ass.
Zaghan let out a shuddered breath, his fingers flexing around my throat, forehead pressed against mine. “Fuck, little witch. You’re a fucking goddess. So perfect.”
He pulled out, only for a moment before he slammed back into me, harder than the last thrust, sending a wave of pleasure crashing through me.
His pace was slow but deliberate, each thrust designed to make me feel every inch of him, to remember how much I loved to have him inside me no matter how much I tried to disagree, drawing out every little gasp and moan I tried to swallow.
“Now, tell me,” he murmured against my lips, his dark voice a mixture of command and plea. “Tell me you miss this, baby. Tell me you miss my cock pounding into your tight pussy, throbbing against your slick walls, filling you up with my seed, just the way you like it.”
I clenched around his silky length, my body answering before her lips could.
“Fucking say it!” he growled, his thrust punctuating his words, deep and devastating.
“I–” I swallowed hard, my pride warring with a need I couldn’t curb, not when I was so full of him, not when I could feel him throbbing inside me, just the way I liked it, indeed.
But when he angled his hip just right, hitting that spot that always made my toe curl, I shattered around him. “Fuck, I missed it. I missed you.”
His lips curled, his groan satisfactory. “That’s my fucking good, girl.”
Then he picked up pace, fucking me like an animal starved, raw, and hard, leaving me teetering on the edge. He fucked me as though he was determined to make up for all the days we spent apart. And I let him. I let him use me the way he pleases.
I let him ruin me.