Page 47 of Craving Chaos

“Fuck, you’re so responsive.” He spreads my labia and lavishes a slow swipe of his tongue against my clit. “You were made for fucking.”

“Jesus, Ren. I need more. You want to prove you can make me come, then do it. Show me what you’ve got.”

He’s already got me halfway there, but I’m not telling him that. I’m so desperate for the finish line that goading him into proving himself is more to my advantage.

“You can’t help but try to top from the bottom, can you?” He gives my inner thigh a warning nip. “I may let you take the reins when it comes to daily life around here, but when your body is naked beneath mine, you will do as I say.”

“I told you, only this once.” I don’t miss his implication that this interlude is only the beginning.

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.” His tongue swirls around my clit as he buries a finger deep inside me. I grind against him, moaning with delight.

Renzo brings me to orgasm like his life depends upon it. No teasing or dallying. He works my body as well as I do, giving me a release that has me screaming in pleasure.

“Now that I’ve proven not every man is a worthless prick, it’s time to play.”

“Wait, Renzo. That’s two already for me today. I can’t do more.”

I’m flipped onto my belly, and his hand slaps my backside faster than I can comprehend what’s happened. “What did I say about giving orders?”

“That’s not an order!”

Smack.

Fuuuuck, there’s something about a man who can give a good spanking. It’s not about the pain. It’s about the confidence. The control.

My spine arches, pressing my ass farther into the air.

“Jesus, you’re perfect.” His hand caresses the sting on my cheek before he lifts my hips in the air. I’m on my knees, but he presses a hand on my upper back to keep my chest down against the bed.

“Keep your hands over your head.” That wolfish bite is back in his voice. His need has taken over again.

He starts to lick my center again, lazy strokes that reignite that spark of desire. When my body starts to undulate into his touch, he pulls away. I hear him spit, then feel warmth drip onto the pucker of my backside. My breathing hitches. I’m no stranger to anal play, but I consider lube to be a must. That sort of thing has to be done right, or it can hurt like a bitch.

He sees me tense. “Easy, girl. I’m not going to do anything you won’t love.” He caresses my ass cheek. While his tongue returns to working my clit, his finger gently tests the puckered ring of muscle. I try to relax and open for him, making him moan. The sound drives me wild with need.

When his hand reaches forward to toy with my piercing, the storm inside me ramps up with a frenzy. He uses the opportunity to ease his thumb inside my ass. Just the tip. He teases and caresses the entrance in a way that feels deliciously naughty, more so than full-on penetration. Like he’s secretly doing something he's not supposed to do. The taboo nature of his teasing touch is more arousing than any I’ve experienced in that realm.

He is unlike anything I’ve experienced—his unwavering dominance, his expert touch, and especially his unquestionable desire for me. It all combines in a cacophony of sensation—a perfect orgasmic storm. My body feels like it might lose control of all bodily functions in a mass meltdown.

“Shit, Ren. I’m gonna come again. It’s too much. I can’t.”

“You can, and you will. Give me that chaos. Give me every bit of it.”

I’m helpless to deny him.

My body bows to his command, hurdling me into a new dimension of existence where there is no awareness save for pleasure. The orgasm doesn’t merely barrel through me. It incinerates my insides until I’m nothing but ash. The panting, mindless remnants of a woman.

I lay with my ass in the air and soak in the endorphins. I’m so blissed out that I don’t notice the bed shaking until Renzo growls behind me. Warm jets of cum decorate the cooling skin of my ass cheeks.

My initial reaction is twofold: delighted at the look of victorious satisfaction on his face and simultaneously disappointed I didn’t get to feel him thicken inside me in that initial moment of release. I desperately want to be irritated or insulted. He came all over me without any warning, after all. We don’t even have a way to bathe here.

I can’t summon a single ounce of outrage.

And any fight I could have theoretically summoned would have been decimated when he tenderly kisses my hip.

“Stay there. I’ll clean you up.”

I lay flat and wait as he diligently wipes off all traces of himself with a wet towel. When I flip over, he hands me my panties, and I slide them back on.

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