Room 512 (4)
She stares at me, wide eyed and ruined. Her thighs tremble, soaked and glistening. Hair a mess, lipstick smudged from my mouth.
“I said I’d make you scream,” I murmur, leaning over her, voice thick. “But I never said it’d only be on my cock.”
She swallows hard. “What do you—”
I reach over for her purse, unzip it, and dig inside until my fingers close around what I’m looking for.
Her vibrator.
She freezes. I hold it up between us like a weapon, smirking as the color drains from her cheeks and rushes right back in.
“Well, well,” I murmur.
“Tyler—”
I flip it on. Low buzz.
Her breath hitches again.
“Lie back, honey,” I say, brushing the toy between her slick folds. “You’re gonna come—but on my terms.”
She moans, head falling back, hands clutching the sheets as I press the toy against her clit. Slow circles. Light pressure. Teasing.
Her hips buck, chasing it, but I pull back just enough to make her groan in frustration.
“Such a needy little thing,” I say, watching her unravel. “You thought I’d let you come just like that?”
Her only answer is a broken whimper.
I take my time. Drag the toy lower, letting it collect every drop of her slick arousal. Then I bring it back up, gliding it over her clit again, still on the lowest setting.
“Tyler—please—”
“Shh,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss her neck, lips brushing sweat and skin. “You begged me in letters, remember? Told me you touched yourself thinking about this. That toy in your hand, my name on your tongue.”
She cries out when I flick the switch to medium.
Her thighs snap shut.
I push them apart again with my free hand, spreading her wide. “Keep ‘em open. You close them again, I stop.”
She bites her lip and nods, body visibly shaking now.
I circle the toy faster, hands squeezing her boobs. “That’s it,” I say, voice low and tight. “Feel how it pulses through you? How sensitive you get for me?”
Her hips rise off the bed, chasing every pulse of vibration. Her hands reach down to grab mine, to force the toy harder against her, but I catch her wrists and pin them above her head.
“You don’t control this, sweetheart,” I growl against her throat. “I do.”
The whine she lets out goes straight to my cock.
I lower the toy, teasing her entrance, then slide it up over her soaked pussy.
She’s panting now. Eyes unfocused. Legs trembling.
“Look at you,” I whisper. “And I haven’t even put my cock back inside you yet.”
I flip the setting to high.
She arches off the bed like she’s been electrocuted.
“Fuck—Tyler—oh my God—” Her mouth falls open in a broken O, every muscle in her face twisted in helpless need.
I kiss her hard, swallowing her cries. Her body writhes under me, hips jerking uncontrollably as the toy works mercilessly over her clit.
Her walls flutter with the need for release, every muscle tight and coiled.
“Now,” I growl, voice rough and demanding. “Come for me. Make a mess. Let go.”
And she does.
Her mouth drops open in a silent scream as she shatters around the toy, waves of pleasure ripping through her like she’s being unmade from the inside out.
I hold her through it. Watching every second. Every twitch. Every raw, beautiful sound that rips out of her throat.
When it’s over, I finally turn the toy off, toss it to the side, and lower my mouth to her still-quivering thigh.
“You done?” I murmur, licking the slick from her skin.
She blinks at me, barely able to speak.
“No,” she breathes.
A crooked smile curls on my lips. “Good.”
She’s still catching her breath, body trembling with the aftershocks of that brutal orgasm when I flip her onto her stomach.
She lets out a soft gasp, cheek pressed to the mattress. “Tyler—oh my God—”
“Shh.” I spread her knees apart and slide my hand down her back, slow and steady. Her ass is lifted, wetness glistening down her thighs. The sight alone nearly undoes me.
I reach for her purse where I dropped it earlier. Unzip it. And smile.
Just like I thought.
I hold up the small pink butt plug between my fingers, letting her see it before I drag it slowly down the curve of her spine.
“You really came with this in your bag, huh?” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the small of her back. “Filthy little thing.”
She whimpers, wiggling her hips like she’s already aching for it.
I lube it with her arousal, then tease the tip at her entrance, circling slowly while she pants into the mattress.
“Relax for me,” I whisper, voice rough with restraint. “You know how good this feels.”
She moans loud as I press it in, inch by inch, until the plug seats perfectly.
“God,” she gasps, voice wrecked.
I run my hand over her ass, admiring the view. “Look at you. Plugged and soaked and shaking for me.”
I position myself behind her, guiding my cock to her entrance, brushing the tip through her slick folds until she’s squirming.
“You ready, baby?”
“Please,” she breathes.
I slam into her in one hard thrust.
Her cry pierces the air, high and raw. The plug inside her makes everything tighter, more intense, and I groan at the sensation of her squeezing me like a fucking vice.
“Jesus, Hayley—you feel like you’re pulling every last bit of control from me.”
She chokes on every breath, every thrust making her cry out louder, her body arching into me as I pound into her from behind.
The sound of skin slapping, her gasps, the wet glide of me sliding in and out, it’s a symphony of filth.
I grip her hips hard, bruising tight, using her body like I’ve been starved for it.
“This is what you wanted?” I growl, leaning over her, one hand in her hair. “To be filled in both holes like a fucking toy?”
“Yes—fuck, yes—Tyler!”
“Say it again.”
“I wanted it—I wanted all of it—I wanted you!”
I fuck her harder, deeper, each thrust angled to drive her wild while the plug inside her keeps everything swollen and hypersensitive.
Her walls flutter around me again, and I know she’s close.
“You gonna come again?” I snarl.
She nods frantically, barely holding herself up.
“Then do it. Come while I’m buried inside you. Come while you’re stuffed like the perfect little slut you are. Cream on my cock, Hayley. Fucking ruin me.”
She breaks.
Her body clenches so hard I see stars. Then she collapses onto the bed, trembling, sobbing out my name.
I follow her over the edge, groaning deep as I empty on her thighs, pulse after pulse of heat and want and fucking need.
I collapse beside her, both of us panting, sweaty, shaking.
She turns her face into my chest, and I wrap my arm around her, tight.
The pillow smells like her perfume; warm vanilla and wildness, branding the room as hers now whether she meant to or not.
“Still think this is just a weekend thing?” I murmur.
She doesn’t answer.
But the way she clings to me says everything.