Page 265 of Remy

She nods. Panting. Gasping.

“Tell me,” I demand. “I want to hear it, Ollie.”

She cups my cheeks, inching back and looking me in the eye, her pussy not pausing in its agonizing assault. “I’ll wear it. I’ll always wear it.”

I grab her hips around the bunched skirt and drag her harder against me, the two of us moaning in unison.

“You’re mine,” I growl.

“And you’re mine,” she demands.

“So fucking yours, Pyro. Nobody else’s.” I shove to my feet, taking her with me.

She wraps her legs around me and clings to my shoulders, never stopping the rock of those smooth hips.

I shuck my pants while she uses my dick, testing my restraint, fucking tempting me to blow.

“Are you ready for something different?” I inch us back toward the bed.

She nods. “Please.”

I groan. “I fucking love when my good girl begs.” I climb onto the mattress, laying her on her back, settling between her thighs.

I hover above her, poised on one elbow as I take charge, pulling out, then thrusting home.

“Oh, God.” Her eyes widen.

I smirk. “It’s deeper.”

Her head rolls back, her chest arching into mine. “So fucking deep.”

“Do you want me to fuck you like this?”

She nods. Whimpers. “I never want you to stop.” Her nails scratch my shoulders. My back.

It’s too intense. The pleasure and the pain.

Each thrust shoves me closer to the edge.

I’ve waited too long for this moment. Fantasized too much.

“You’re so good at this.” My voice is guttural. “I can’t wait to spill inside you.”

She sucks in a ragged breath.

“Do you like the thought of that, Ollie?” I lean down to murmur in her ear. “Does my good girl like picturing my cum seeping from that tight little cunt?”

She shudders, her core clamping around me. “You need to stop, otherwise I’m going to come.”

“Stop what?” I palm the base of her throat, my rings gently grazing her skin while I nuzzle her neck. “Stop fucking you?” I thrust harder. Faster. “Or stop telling you how much my dick loves being inside you. How much your sopping wet pussy makes me feel like a fucking king.”

She gasps, her back arching. Her grip pulls tight in my hair, my scalp burning.

She’s my undoing. I can barely think through the frenzy.

All I know is that I can’t come without her.

She has to cross the line with me.

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