Page 112 of Holding The Reins

I shake my head and smile at him as I slide a hand down my waist and let my middle finger trail over my aching clit.

“Crawl to me, baby,” I whisper, my voice raspy and sweet.

Nash doesn’t even consider what I ask for more than one second. His knees hit the floor with a thud, he discards his shirt and begins moving toward me. My breathing increases as I watch his powerful inked body make his way toward me.

This man is the pinnacle. The basis for which all other men should be compared. He’s the alpha and yet he’s crawling, to me, like this form of worship is the easiest move he could ever make. When he arrives at my feet, his hands grip under my heels and his lips meet the tops of each of my feet, one at a time before he slides his massive hands up the back of my calves to my thighs, trailing kisses along the inside of my legs on the way up.

“You’re the queen I crawl to. I’ll kneel at your feet for the rest of my fucking life. Now, sit on your throne.”

Before I can even register what’s happening, Nash pulls me down onto his face, holding my body up with only his arms, gripping the flesh of my lower back as his tongue presses firmly up the slit of my dripping core and I shudder.

I moan and whimper uncontrollably as his tongue begins to make a meal of my pussy. Tight, perfectly pressured flicks swipe my clit as two fingers plunge into me. Some small compartment of my brain comprehends that he’s holding me up with only one strong arm wrapped around me and his face.

My legs go weak as he speaks, his voice deep, full of gravel and commanding. The alpha rising from the ashes. “Come, little queen, soak my face. Baptize me… and then, I’ll fuck you like the king that owns this pussy.”

Nash feasts on me like this may be the last time he ever gets the chance. He is the king—the king of eating pussy.

I lose myself in him and the way he worships me with his tongue, every movement pulling me deeper into the abyss of pleasure he offers. His fingers coax me in time with his lips, his teeth, and I’m spiraling again as if I have no choice but to come, his fingers violently fuck into me as his tongue stays over my clit and my release consumes me.

I don’t hold back, I don’t fight it in any way, I can’t. I just let my body do what he commands and shatter, soaking him in the process and he revels in it, pushing his face deeper, taking everything I give him and groaning into me as he does.

“That’s it, little firefly. Such a good girl. My good girl.”

Irun my fingers through Nash’s hair as my cries of pleasure grow silent.

“I—I’ve never felt anything like that,” I whisper. My voice is hoarse.

Three or four seconds is all I get before he lifts me, gripping my thighs tight, his lips find mine in a deep and consuming kiss and I’m moving until my back hits the wall. He somehow frees himself from his boxers, driving his steely cock into me as deeply as he can with one violent thrust.

Murmurs of, “Fucking tight little cunt… my tight little cunt,” leave his lips as his mouth finds my nipples, expertly sucking and teasing until the sweet coil of pleasure begins to form low in my belly all over again.

Nash is holding my body against the wall with his own, pinning me here, impaling me with his huge cock. My legs hang by his side and he grunts out a raspy sound as I rock my hips, forcing myself to slide down onto him all the way.

I cry out. I’ll never get used to the way he fills me. The way he takes over my entire being the moment he enters me to his full depth.

“Fucking paradise…” Nash mutters as he begins to move. He isn’t gentle, his thrusts and kisses are rough. A hand slides up from my breasts to my face and he traces my bottom lip with his thumb before he pulls it between his teeth and bites down hard, then licks over the pain, soothing it as I quiver.

“I dream of these perfect lips every night. My lips.”

I moan and kiss him back, moving my tongue slowly, savoring him as he bottoms out inside me over and over. The textured grassy hotel wallpaper scratches at my back.

“This beautiful body is all mine.” Nash pulls himself almost all the way out then drives into me as deep as he can.

“Ah…fuck,” he growls as his deep, vicious thrust threatens to break me. He holds me up with one hand under my backside, the other is pressed against my chest, his long fingers trail up my throat, then wrap around it.

“These shoulders are mine.” Thrust.

“These perfect tits are mine.” Thrust.

“This sweet little cunt that was made just for me.” Thrust.

“It’s mine.”

I’m dangerously close to coming just from his dirty words alone.

“Even your soul is mine.” Thrust.

“All of you is fucking mine.”

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