Page 113 of Mated to the Wolves

“Please what, Brat?”

“Faster.”

“Faster?” His silky voice is another stimuli.

“Faster, please, Sir.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

He slips in a third finger and brushes my clit with his thumb.

“Is my good girl ready to come?”

“Yes, please let me come, Sir.”

“You want to come?”

“Uh huh?” Chest heaving, I struggle to hold back the impending orgasm.

“Then come. Now.” He strokes my swollen bundle of nerves. I detonate.

His teeth sink into my neck. I scream at the sharp sting. My walls pulse. I push his fingers out with my release.

He laps at the wound. “Now you’re ready to take me, Brat.” He peels my wet panties and shorts off my hips and down my thighs, and works himself free of his pants.

“Turn around, Brat. I want to see your face when I split you in two.” He spins me to face him. I admire the nine-inch beast covered in veins.

The shiny tip peaks out of the foreskin. He strokes down his length and the milky beads run down his shaft. My mouth waters and I lick my lips, unable to look away.

“Are you ready to take me, Brat?”

I nod. The blanket lies in a heap long forgotten. He holds the base of his cock steady. Rising over him, I grasp his shoulders.

He runs his dick between my lips, coating it with my essence before I sink down on his tip. Groaning I tremble as he stretches me wide.

“You can take it. Relax and let Sir inside.”

I fight the instinct to clench around him, slide up and back down. Yielding inch by inch I relish the sharp sting.

“So full.”

“You love it, don’t you?” He spits on my pussy and circles my clit.

I clench around him in response pulling a guttural groan from his throat.

“Look at how you grip me. You’re making it hard for Sir to stuff you properly.”

Slick flows, easing the path. I sink to the root of him. His cock twitches. We both moan.

“There’s my good girl. Look at how beautiful you are full of me. Time for you to work for it, Brat. Ride Sir.”

He grips my waist, helping me catch a rhythm. Leaning back, I circle my hips as the pinch yields to pure pleasure. Every stroke presses him against the elusive ridge inside, ratcheting my pleasure higher. Our bodies slap together, and he showers me with praise.

“You’re fucking me so good, Brat. Just like that. We look so good together.”

Breath hitching, I tremble.

“Are you going to come for me?” his voice is gruff and strained.