Page 92 of Perfect Praise

“Part of me never wants this to end, but don’t touch me unless you plan for me to be inside you,” he warns hoarsely. His body tenses, and all the veins in his arms swell under his skin.

Instead of listening, I rock my hips to watch his eyes roll back in bliss.

“Where’s all your self-control, Locke?” I whisper playfully.

“Maren,” he says, voice low like he’s mustering all his strength. He lifts his hips off the bed to match my tempo and grinds back. “It’s going to be the pleasure of a lifetime watching you ride my cock.”

Only Locke could take one sentence and make it sound beautiful and filthy at the same time.

I lift and take him in my hand, lining him up to where I’m dripping wet.

As I gradually sink down around him, he stretches me, fills me perfectly.

“Shit,” we both hiss at the same time.

Immediately, I need more. More friction. More movement. More body contact.

I angle, thrusting my hips into Locke’s, and wrap my hands around his neck to try to find anything more that I can.

“Fuck, play with those nipples,” Locke murmurs, reading my mind.

Straightening my back, I take my breasts in my hands and throw my head back. I roll my nipples in between my thumbs and index fingers, causing a zing to radiate outward and a moan to escape my lips.

But still, I know what would feel even better.

I lean back over, cradle my hands around the back of Locke’s head and bury his face into my cleavage.

He sinks his teeth into my left boob before sucking my nipple into his mouth. He’s mastered the balance between soft, sweet nips and heated pain—or he’s become so familiar with my body he knows exactly how to drag moans out of me.

Locke switches sides, not allowing me to go silent for longer than a second. I slow my pace, immersed completely with how deep he is, how full I feel.

“You take every inch so well,” he says gruffly. “Fucking gorgeous. Use that cock to make yourself feel good.” I rise and gradually lower myself back down again all the way, and Locke hums. “Good girl.”

His praise twists through me, and a satisfied sigh leaves my lungs. Suddenly, slow doesn’t do it for me anymore. I need it hard and fast and wild.

Locke senses my shift and tugs on a rope eagerly. “Give me one hand, baby. Just one.” He smiles, all dimples, when I narrow my eyes. “I’ll make it worth it.”

Without bothering to stop rocking on his dick because it feels too good at this angle when he hits my clit, I untie the rope around his right wrist. I trust him completely, and I know he will make it more than worth it.

As soon as it’s free, his hand is all over me. Across my boobs and stomach, cradling my hips, smacking my ass. He sweeps it up my leg and runs his thumb over my clit. Electricity jolts, molten lava pooling in my stomach at his touch. But three circles later, he abandons that plan and grasps my throat to pull my face to his.

“That’s it,” he tells me when my hips pick up speed at the intimacy. “Show me how much you like riding my dick like the whore we both know you are just for me.”

His words brush against my lips as he talks a millimeter from my mouth. His kiss is forceful, and his tongue presses against mine in a frenzy. My entire body prickles when he sucks on my tongue.

He squeezes just enough around my neck, and my head fills with delicious pressure. “Stick out that tongue,” he instructs.

When I lay it out flat, he places his middle finger down, wetting the pad of it thoroughly. Then, with his eyes never straying from mine, he runs his tongue along the tip, mixing our saliva, before his hand skates down my back and grabs my ass hard. He presses his fingers into my cheek, feeling me bounce until he spreads it, and with his wet middle finger, circles around my back entrance.

My breath hitches in anticipation against his mouth.

I’ve never done this, I tell Locke telepathically. He looks back in understanding.But I want to. I want to give you everything.

“Do you want to come with my finger in your ass?” he asks, voice deep and surprisingly earnest.

I nod before I remember my words. All of my words are his. “Yes,” I whisper.

“Good,” he says. “Because I want to take everything from you. I may be the one tied down, but you’re mine, and I will own every part of you, Maren.”

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