Page 54 of The Woman in the Warehouse

My hand shifted up, sliding under her panties, and tracing up her pussy.

“Fucking drenched,” I murmured, taking my sweet time getting toward her clit, leaving her writhing against me. “You’ve been thinking about my cock all day, haven’t you?” I asked, doing short little pulses on her hair as my thumb teased around the hood of her clit.

“Y-yes.”

“Like this?” I asked, thrusting two fingers into her waiting pussy, feeling her walls tighten around them immediately, wanting more. Wanting my cock.

But not yet.

Not until she was fucking begging for it.

“Yes.”

“You were dreaming about me fucking you this morning, weren’t you?” I asked. Then, at her silence, pressing the pad of my thumb into her clit. “Weren’t you?” I asked, pulling her hair a little harder.

“Yes,” she admitted, rocking her hips as my fingers started to fuck her. Hard and fast. I wanted her fucking mindless with her need before I yanked down her pants, and surged inside her.

“Do you still want it now?” I asked, the pain of my own desire growing.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“Yeah? Turn around and show me how much,” I said, sliding my fingers out of her panties, and pulling at her hair as she turned toward me.

Understanding the command, her hands went right to my lounge pants, yanking down the waistbands of my pants and underwear.

My cock was barely free before she was leaning down and sucking me into her mouth.

“Fuck,” I groaned as she took me to the base, making my fucking vision go white for a moment as she started to work me.

Hard and fast and sloppy, taking me so deep she gagged.

“You feel so good with your mouth around my cock,” I said, hand holding the hair at the base of her neck as I started to thrust back into her throat, loving the way her fingers dug into my thighs as she made little gagging sounds. Like she was enjoying it just as much as I was.

My hand pulled her hair hard, forcing her off of me before I lost control, before I got to bury deep inside of her again, then continuing to pull until she followed the silent command to turn back around.

“Hands on the back of the couch,” I demanded, watching as her ass extended out to me.

With one hand, I yanked at the material, getting it out of my way, so I could see her round ass, could see the way her inner thighs glistened with her slick need.

“Touch your pussy for me,” I demanded, having to release her hair to dig for the condom I’d slipped into my pocket this morning for this very moment, and slipping it on as I watched her fingers tease around her clit. “Fingers in,” I told her, watching as two slipped inside of her, hearing her little moan as she started to finger-fuck herself.

“Is that enough?” I asked, gathering her hair again. “Or do you need my cock?”

In a silent answer, her fingers slid out of her, her fist balling up on the back of the couch as she rocked back against my cock.

“Tell me,” I demanded with a little tug as I rocked my cock against her, but didn’t give her what she wanted. Not until she asked or begged for it.

“I want your cock,” she admitted, her voice a whining whimper.

I couldn’t tease her for another minute.

My cock slid back then slammed in, taking her to the base as her pussy tightened around me. Saylor let out a deep moan as I took a steadying breath, trying to find control.

But it was in short supply.

So I twisted her hair around my fist, grabbed her hip, and started to fuck her.

Fast and desperate, like we both wanted.

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