10. Sinclair
Sinclair
Istagger to my feet, drunk on her taste and lightheaded from the relocation of my blood flow to my dick.
I’ve imagined many things, many times, since setting eyes on Elyse, but they all pale in comparison with the reality of her total surrender to me.
She is petite and perfect, her cunt as exquisite as the rest of her, and so fucking responsive.
She’s already blown my mind, and I haven’t even fucked her yet.
As I walk around her, I take in the spectacular sight of her bent over like this for me, her fantastic little ass in the air.
I can’t keep her like this for much longer, but I won’t last much longer, either.
This will be over embarrassingly quickly.
She turns her head to the side as I come around the front, and I brush the dark, glossy strands of hair off her face.
She can’t quite meet my eyes from her position, but her beautiful face is as flushed as I knew it would be, her lips parted, breaths ragged as she comes down from what looked—and sounded—like a monster orgasm.
I come to a stop right in front of her and unzip my pants with difficulty, given my dick is trying its hardest to breach my zipper. “How are you doing?” I ask as I work the waistband of my boxer briefs down over my dick.
She lets out a little huff of laughter aimed at the floor. “I barely know my own name, so pretty good, I guess.”
“Neck feeling okay? Hands? No tingles?”
She makes fists. “Nope.”
“Good. You did amazing. I’m going to fuck you so hard. Give me your mouth for a sec—wanna show you how ready I am.”
I slide a hand through her hair and along her jaw for some support, bending my knees a little to reduce my height.
There’s a wet patch on the floor below where she’s presumably drooled.
Fuck, her mouth will be a haven. She can’t tilt her head up quite enough, but when I wrap a fist around my dick and slide it over her pretty, puffy lips, she moans a little and parts for me, her slender hands fluttering uselessly in their restraints.
Sweet Heavenly Father, the feeling of Elyse’s tongue and mouth gliding over my crown, licking it, everything slippery with precum and saliva, is like nothing else on earth.
She can’t get deep at this angle—and I’d be in serious trouble if she could—but the silkiness of her tongue makes me want to weep, as do the sweet little humming noises she makes as she explores me.
My fingers flex along her jaw. “So good,” I tell her. “So beautiful.”
I harness untold levels of self-control to pull away, because I know that if her mouth is a sanctuary, her cunt will be nirvana.
“Proof of protection,” I say, pulling a condom from the pocket of my pants, which are still hanging off my waist. “Watch.” Really, I just want to put on a show.
Ramp up her anticipation—and my own. I rip the foil and work the condom carefully over my angry length, because my dick is an unexploded grenade right now.
“I’m not gonna go easy on you,” I warn as I stride back around to her business end, earning myself a breathy curse from her.
Would you know, there’s an even bigger wet patch on the floor at this end.
I fucking love that she’s dripping for me.
I step in between her legs, belt buckle and pants hanging open, dick armored and ready for action, and grip one hip, sliding the thumb of my other hand back through her wetness and admiring the mind-blowing visual in front of me: her slim body stretched out, the delicate architecture of her spine and shoulder blades, slender neck enclosed in satin and wood, the firm mounds of her ass.
If she hadn’t checked every single aspect of anal as a hard limit, she’d be in even more trouble right now.
Still, I already know how snug her beautiful little cunt is, how tight a squeeze it’ll be.
And she’s slick as fuck. No lube required tonight.
I fist my cock and coat my tip in her wetness, admiring the way she can’t help but shimmy her little ass against me, and notch it right at her entrance.
I already know I’ll pay whatever she demands for the chance to take her bare one day.
I push in an inch. She cries out, a guttural noise that hits me right in the nuts. Fuck. I’m sweating already. “You okay?” I grit out.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Sinclair,” she warns breathily, and I almost shoot my load.
The lady wants me to feed her every inch of me?
She should be careful what she asks for.
I release my hold on my dick and grip her hips hard as I stare down at the sight of myself disappearing inside her body. It’s a particularly lovely take on my all-time favorite view. I dig my fingers in harder and shunt forward, burying myself inside her in one heavy thrust.
Holy fuck.
She shouts out just as I grunt, because this is beyond tight. This is—
“Oh my God,” she cries. “Oh, God.”
“Too much?” I ask.
“No—it’s a lot. Like, a lot. But in a good way.”
“That’s my girl. So fucking dirty, the way you’re taking my cock.
” I pull almost the entire way out of her and shove back in.
The leather support I placed under her wobbles, its legs clattering on the floor, and I grip her harder, holding her in place.
I cannot imagine what she’d feel like without a condom.
Unsurvivable, I assume. She’s perfect even like this.
I fucking go for it, finding my rhythm. I’ve made her come already, so this one is for me.
No need to try to hold off on her account.
If I don’t last, I’ll get back on my knees and make it up to her again.
I’m an animal, driven purely by need. The need to rut.
The need to release. I stare down in awe as I thrust into her, over and over, as hard as I can.
We’re both making a lot of noise now, and my thrusts grow frantic, my balls slapping against her flesh every time I bottom out inside this velvet vise of hers.
Like I said, this is usually my favorite view. My favorite way to take a woman.
Except, as I fuck her and fuck her, I’m consumed by the urge for more. I want to feel her fantastic little tits again. I want to run my hands all over her body. I want to fuck her mouth while I fuck her cunt. Just this once.
“Hang on,” I growl, slowing my movements so I can arch over her.
As I do, the heat radiates off her back and through my shirt, her breath coming in fast gasps.
With what feels like herculean effort, I flick the clasp on the end of the pillory’s horizontal plank and raise the top half up and over on its hinge until it comes crashing down to hang vertically, freeing Elyse from its clutches.
Before she can even react, I haul her upright and crush her beautiful naked body against me with one arm banded across her shoulders.
The angle is less good like this, but I don’t care.
I bury my face in her hair, her neck, and use my free hand to roam, squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples, dragging over her stomach, finding and teasing her clit in a way that has her thrashing in my arms and widening her legs.
She reaches behind her and grabs my ass with one hand, pulling me even more flush against her as her other hand comes up to claw at my hair.
Fuck, she feels like she’s as desperate to take my cock as I am to give it to her, and it’s breaking my brain.
I can barely think straight. I look around wildly.
“This way.” I shuffle us over to the cabinet full of toys, her back still glued to my front, my dick just about still inside her. “Brace yourself with your hands and give me your mouth.”
She does, leaning forward a little and putting her weight on her hands as she turns her head to me.
I push back inside her and wrap her hair around my fist so I can hold her in place.
Only when I have her like this, the view of her profile leaving me in no doubt as to the extraordinary nature of her beauty, only when my free hand has resumed its teasing—nipples, stomach, clit, plucking and pinching and caressing—do I dip my head and sample her perfect mouth, sucking on her lower lip before plunging my tongue inside her sweetness to dominate her at both ends.
I never kiss the women I fuck at Alchemy, but this isn’t about intimacy.
Like I said, it’s purely about domination.
Our kiss is hungry. Desperate. Wet. I drive into her like this, over and over, as I plunder her mouth, the little tongue that felt so blissful on my cock fighting and losing each battle with mine.
The need to come is growing impossibly stronger, but the belief that I may be able to take her with me is growing, too.
Her entire body is trembling, her legs shaking against my thighs as I fuck her, her kisses frantic and sweet-tasting.
I’m folded around her like this, and if she comes, it will be within the cage of my body.
I give one berry-pink nipple a last twist and slide my hand between her legs, rubbing at her clit with a couple of fingers, my movements light on finesse and heavy on greed. She’s almost legless now; she’s barely hanging on, her whimpers turning to sobs.
“I can’t,” she pleads into my mouth. “It’s too much, I can’t take it. It’s too—”
“It’s raven or nothing,” I mutter against her lips. “Because I know you can.” I’m not being a dick. I know the difference between a woman who’s reaching her limits and a woman who’s scared of how hard she’s about to come.
To prove my point, I ramp up my efforts.
Her clit is so slippery I can barely stay locked in.
Whether she likes it or not, she’s about to detonate.
I release her hair and slide my arm across her chest so that I can fondle one nipple and rub the other against my forearm.
A blunt instrument, but hey. My legs are shaking too, with the effort of holding off my own orgasm while coaxing hers to flower.
She detonates once again, and I feel every beautiful contraction of it around my dick.
This time, when she goes limp, it’s in my arms. I help her stay upright as I fuck her and kiss her through it, seconds away from going off myself.
She trembles and sobs through the kiss, and I experience her pleasure through the nerve endings of our tongues as the salty hints of her tears find our mouths.
Fuck. I’m all out of willpower.
“On your elbows,” I bark, removing my hand from her clit as soon as I’m confident I’ve wrung every drop of her climax out of her, and she drops obediently to her elbows, widening her stance and giving me a deeper angle.
I grip her hips once more and I fucking go for it, thrusting and thrusting like a lunatic, driven only by the all-consuming need to come.
As I do, I snort the skin of her neck and nip at her shoulder like the addict I seem to be.
She’s intoxicating, and I’m hell-bent on getting every last cent of my money’s worth.
I lied to her earlier: I want quality and quantity—and variety.
I want to fuck her every which way, in every hole, in every position.
I want to look at her and never again see the passive, disinterested way she looked back at me from behind the bar last week.
I want to see the memory of these orgasms in her eyes every fucking time she glances at me.
I want her so desperate for more of my dick that she can barely hold her shit together. That’s what I want.
As I suck on her shoulder and come deep inside her with an earth-shattering, bone-smashing orgasm that feels more like a tsunami than a bodily release, I understand viscerally that nothing will satisfy me like this until I have Elyse in a room again, naked and begging and eyes glazed with the blind need for the one thing only I can give her.