Chapter 11 #6
“Yeah?” I grunt, grinding my hips in at the end of a stroke, buried balls-deep, making her squeal under me. “That what you wanted, baby? You wanted to know how I fuck when I don’t have to hold back?”
She nods frantically, tears brimming again at the corners of her eyes—not from pain, not even close. From being overwhelmed. From being full.
From being wanted like this.
I kiss her open mouth, all teeth and tongue and heat, then break it just to whisper against her lips, voice rough and ragged:
“Sweet girl—look at you.”
Her eyes flutter open, dazed and glassy.
“You’re taking every inch,” I growl. “Your pussy’s squeezing me like it doesn’t wanna let go.”
She moans, long and shaky, hips rocking into mine now, meeting every thrust like her body’s already synced to the way I move.
“I don’t,” she gasps. “Don’t wanna let go—don’t wanna stop—”
“Good,” I snarl, pace picking up, dragging another loud cry out of her as I start to thrust harder. Not jackhammering—deeper. More deliberate. Like I’m trying to put something in her no one else can take away.
My hand slides between us, finds her clit, and I press down—not too gentle. She doesn’t need soft right now.
She needs real.
She wants to feel what I like.
I rub tight circles right over that swollen little bundle of nerves, cock driving in harder now, hips snapping as the bed rocks louder beneath us.
“Des—I—oh I’m gonna—”
I lean down and bite her neck, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to make her scream.
“Come for me,” I growl, voice pure gravel, lips hot against her throat. “Wanna feel you lose it on my cock. Wanna feel you milk me while I’m still inside you.”
She breaks.
Just shatters.
Whole body convulsing under me, back arching hard as her orgasm hits like a truck. Her legs wrap around my waist, lock me in, her cunt clenching around me like a fist, so tight it stops me for a second. She’s crying out, full voice, no shame—raw, wet, perfect.
And I hold her through it.
Keep fucking her through it.
She spasms around me, cunt pulsing, legs shaking, nails raking down my back—and I love it.
I want her to remember this. I want her to feel it tomorrow. To know how I fuck when I’m not playing nice. When I’m not her boss. When I’m just a man who’s wanted her from the second he laid eyes on her.
And now?
Now I’m balls deep, soaked in her cum, cock throbbing with the need to blow.
But I don’t stop.
She’s trembling under me—whole body shaking like she’s just been hit with lightning. Her orgasm still rips through her in waves, hips twitching with every aftershock, cunt fluttering around my cock like it’s trying to drag the cum out of me.
And I’m still moving.
Still thrusting, deep and relentless, slower now but no less intense. My strokes are long, thick, and measured, dragging every last inch through that slick heat that’s squeezing me like a vice.
Because she’s not done.
And I’m sure as hell not either.
She’s gasping, fingers curled tight in the sheets, one leg still locked around my waist like she’s trying to anchor herself to something solid while the rest of her falls apart.
“You feel that?” I rasp, fucking her slow, steady, keeping her right at the edge where pleasure blends into overload. “Feel how your pussy’s still workin’ me? Like it’s tryin’ to keep me?”
She nods—barely. Mouth open, eyes rolled back.
A little whimper slips out of her throat and I grin, dragging my mouth down to her tits, sucking one stiff nipple into my mouth, rolling my hips deep at the same time.
She screams.
High and desperate and hoarse. Her back arches, her cunt clamps down again and I groan, deep in my chest, because she’s about to come again—back to back, wrung out and helpless, the way I like her.
“You’re incredible,” I mutter against her skin, nipping at the curve of her breast, my hand sliding to her hip and gripping it tight enough to bruise. “You take me like you need it. Like you were made for my cock.”
She cries out, hips moving with me now, chasing every thrust, even through the overstimulation, like her body’s begging for more even if her brain’s gone offline.
“You got another one in you?” I growl, biting her earlobe, thrusting harder, faster, wet sounds filling the room, smack-smack-smack of skin on skin as I fuck her through her own pleasure. “You got one more, baby?”
She nods, fast, her breath hitching like she’s on the verge again—already.
“Say it,” I snap, hand pressing flat to her belly, pinning her down while I grind deep, cock thick and twitching inside her. “Tell me you got more for me.”
“Y-yes!” she cries, voice shattered. “Desmond—I—I can—”
“That’s right.” I slam into her, hard enough to shove the bedframe back an inch, her hands scrambling over my shoulders now like she doesn’t know what to grab.
She’s a mess.
Sweat-slicked, crying, thighs trembling, her pussy sucking me in like she wants me to ruin her—and fuck, I’m close. I’m right there, balls tight, cock throbbing, barely holding on.
But I want her to break again before I do.
So I angle my hips just right, tilt her up a little with one hand on her ass, and drive in deep—right where she needs it—pressing down on her clit with my thumb at the same time.
And that’s it.
She screams. Loud and raw, her body snapping tight as she comes again, for the second time, maybe the third, I don’t even know anymore. She clenches so dangerously hard around my cock I snarl, hips jerking once, twice—
And then I lose it.
With a ragged growl punched from deep in my gut, I bury myself to the hilt and cum, cock pulsing in thick, hot waves as I fill the condom, her pussy still milking me like it doesn’t want to let a drop go to waste.
I hold her tight.
One arm under her back, the other tangled in her hair, kissing her temple, her cheek, her jaw, still grinding slow as I ride it out, not ready to leave her warmth yet.
She’s breathing like she just ran a marathon. Eyes closed, lips parted, chest rising fast under me.
I ease the rhythm down, gentle now, still deep, still with her.
I kiss her again, soft this time.
“You good?” I murmur against her skin.
She nods, breathless. “That was… a lot.”
I chuckle, low and satisfied, still panting as I pull back just enough to look at her.
“Yeah, sweetheart,” I say, brushing her hair back from her face. “That’s how I like it.”