Chapter 40 #40
Chapter 40
~Cynthia~
I moved closer, deliberately slow, letting the anticipation stretch, watching the way his attention followed every step. He couldn't resist, he touched me.
He approached with punishing slowness, each deliberate step making the air between us thicker, hotter. My pulse hammered in my throat as his gaze raked over every inch of exposed skin, dark and ravenous. When his fingers finally grazed my hip, light, taunting, I let out a shaky breath.
“Already touching?” I purred, voice deliberately breathy.
“You lit this fire,” he growled low. “Don’t act surprised when it burns you.”
I closed the last inch, lips brushing his ear. “Then let me pour gasoline on it.”
His laugh was dark, dangerous. “You’re fucking vicious.”
“Patient,” I corrected, nipping his earlobe hard enough to make him hiss.
He allowed me to push him back onto the bed, allowed me to straddle his thighs, allowed me to cuff his wrists above his head again, even though we both knew the restraints were mostly theater now. His cock stood brutally hard against his stomach, thick veins pulsing, the head already slick and flushed dark.
I dragged one fingernail slowly from base to tip, watching his abs clench.
“Tease,” he warned, voice gravel.
I answered by leaning down and dragging the flat of my tongue over the slit, collecting the salty precum like it belonged to me. His hips jerked involuntarily.
“Fuck…Cynthia…”
I took just the head between my lips, sucking lightly, swirling my tongue, letting obscene wet sounds fill the room. His biceps strained against the cuffs; every muscle in his forearms stood out sharp.
When I finally sank down, swallowing as much of him as I could, his head slammed back against the pillow and a guttural moan tore out of him. I hollowed my cheeks, bobbed deliberately, letting him hit the back of my throat over and over until tears pricked my eyes and saliva dripped down his shaft.
He was leaking steadily now, thighs trembling, breaths coming in harsh pants.
Right as his balls drew up tight and his cock swelled impossibly thicker against my tongue, I pulled off with a wet pop.
“Goddamn you,” he snarled, eyes blazing.
I licked my swollen lips, smiling. “You look so pretty when you’re desperate.”
In one fluid, violent motion he snapped the cuffs open, it had never really been locked, and flipped us. My back hit the mattress. Before I could catch my breath he had my wrists pinned above my head with one massive hand while the other yanked my thighs apart.
“My turn to play,” he said, voice lethally soft.
He didn’t ease in.
He attacked.
Teeth grazed my nipple, then bit down just hard enough to make me arch and cry out. His tongue soothed the sting, only to bite again, harder. My breasts were already aching, swollen, when he finally moved lower.
The first swipe of his tongue over my clit was merciless, broad, flat, possessive. Then he sealed his mouth over me and sucked hard while two thick fingers plunged inside without warning, curling ruthlessly against my front wall.
“Jack…fuck..!”
“Quiet,” he ordered against my soaked flesh. “Just take it.”
He ate me like a man starved, messy, greedy, obscene. Lips, tongue, teeth, the scrape of stubble on tender inner thighs. My hips bucked helplessly; he pinned them down with a forearm like iron and doubled the pace of his fingers, the wet squelching sounds obscene in the quiet room.
I was dripping down his wrist, thighs shaking violently.
“Jack….I’m…gonna…”
He ripped his mouth away at the exact second my body coiled tightest.
I sobbed in frustration, empty and throbbing.
He crawled up my body, lips shiny with me, voice dark velvet against my ear.
“Now we’re even. And that pathetic excuse of a man you used to fuck?” His fingers circled my clit once, slow, cruel. “He could never make you gush like the filthy little slut you are for me.”
Before I could answer he slammed three fingers back inside, thumb grinding my clit in brutal circles while his other hand pinched and twisted my nipple.
I was shattered.
Clear fluid sprayed over his hand, wrist, forearm, my whole body convulsing as I screamed his name. He didn’t stop until I was whimpering, oversensitive, trying to twist away.
Then he flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my hips up, and notched himself at my entrance.
“Beg.”
“Please…Jack…fuck me….need you inside…”
He slammed home in one brutal stroke, stretching me so wide my vision whited out for a second. No pause. No gentleness. Just deep, punishing thrusts that slapped skin against skin and forced broken moans from my throat.
He fisted my hair, arched my back, changed the angle until he battered my g-spot on every stroke.
“You love being split open on my cock, don’t you?”
“Yes…God…yes…”
“Say it louder.”
“I love…fuck…I love your cock…love how you ruin me…”
He growled, hips snapping harder, balls slapping my clit with every thrust.
When I started fluttering around him again he pulled out, flipped me onto my back, hooked my legs over his shoulders and drove back in so deep I felt him in my throat.
“Look at me while I fuck you stupid.”
I obeyed, eyes locked on his, while he pounded into me with a punishing rhythm.
“Come again,” he commanded. “Soak my cock. Mark me.”
I did, screaming, nails raking down his back, walls clamping so hard he cursed viciously.
He didn’t stop.
He pulled out, dragged me to the edge of the bed, bent me over the railing of the balcony so the cool night air hit my overheated skin.
“Gonna fuck you where anyone could see,” he rasped in my ear. “Let them hear what a perfect little cockslut you are for me.”
He thrust back in, harder, deeper, hands bruising my hips while the city lights glittered far below.
One hand snaked around to rub frantic circles over my clit.
“Come one more time,” he growled. “Come so hard you forget your own name.”
I shattered again, squirting over his cock, down my thighs, dripping onto the floor, sobbing his name like a prayer while he fucked me through it.
Only then did he let himself go, burying himself to the hilt, pulsing thick and hot inside me, groaning my name against my neck like it was the only word he remembered.
We stayed locked together, trembling, dripping, wrecked.
He pressed a surprisingly soft kiss behind my ear.
“Mine.”
I smiled, boneless, voice hoarse.
“Yours.”