Page 128 of Born for Silk

He grips my hip with one hand and uses his cock on my weeping lips, coating the solid, throbbing length in my slick arousal. “I told you that I would introduce you to all the parts of your pretty body that will make you moan for me.”

Controlled and slow, he pushes into my other hole, and my eyes pop open with only the stretch of his crown.

I squeeze the wooden board. “My king?” I beg, scared, nervous—everything. All at once.

“Reach your hand back. Claw my thigh.”

I intend to when suddenly warmth gathers low in my belly like a soothing whirlpool. A mesmerising presence that brings something pleasantly numbing and…

Am I floating?

“My King…” I wriggle. “I feel strange.”

A coarse palm moves around my smooth waist, stilling at my swollen abdomen. “It is safe for the heir, but will help you with your first time taking me in your tight arsehole. Numb the pain and loosen your pretty rim for me.”

His fingers descend, dipping to my clit where he massages the bead just as he pushes inside me from behind.

I moan for him—hard. Long.

“That’s my girl.”

There is no air.

And too much.

No space.

Yet, I’m swollen.

I cannot do anything but feel him. There is no sting; he made sure of that. Only the feeling of being full, so utterly full—everywhere. And the stretch, the stretch is… exquisite.

Needing more control, he releases my hip and possesses my throat, his arm supporting the front of my torso as he presses me forward with his hips and sinks his throbbing length in until he is flush with my backside. It is as if stones have been set on the base of my pelvis—the weight is otherworldly.

I could crack open.

In half—down the centre.

“You’re doing so good, my sweet creature. No need to ever feel jealous. You have taken all of me. Every inch of my manhood. Every possessive cell in my veins. The dustings of my humanity. All of your king. Yours.”

The sounds from my throat are endless. My pussy spasms with longing, working the empty space he usually fills. As if he understands, two fingers feed between my wet folds to satiate the needy clenching.

He lifts me from my pussy, two fingers deep, his palm a cradle for my pelvis, his cock taking my weight.

I am suspended by him.

The primal groans thundering against my spine encourage me to rock my hips forward along his attentive fingers and roll backward to welcome his firm, thick length as it impales me.

He starts to move.

Really, really move.

My moans become short like a punch while his grunts match the pounding of his hips as he sets a brutal pace, hard enough to beat sounds through my panting lips.

Fuck,” he growls, almost a roar, taking me hard with real desperation, with the beast on the surface. “Look how well you take me. So relaxed for my cock.”

My frantic palms climb the wall behind the bedhead, being lifted beyond the reach of the wooden frame, but it makes no difference. All I can do is brace myself while he dominates me so entirely. I close my eyes and pleasure my king with my willing body, letting him take what he needs, letting him claim. Thrust.

“I love you, my king,” I whimper, my voice breaking, my body plummeting into another bottomless abyss of pleasure just as he loses his pace.

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