Page 72 of The Power Play

We kiss almost desperately, and his hand moves between us to undo my jeans. Just like the other night, he shoves his hand inside them and finds me already wet for him. I spread my legs further because this angle and the restriction of my pants makes it difficult, but I’m desperate for his touch.

“You’re always so fucking wet for me,” he rasps, just as he pushes a finger inside my pussy, and I moan.

“I know,” is all I can say because the way he’s rubbing my clit while finding the special spot inside me at the same time has me already toeing the edge.

“I want to be inside you,” he groans, almost like a complaint.

I nod aggressively because I want that too, but I place my hand on his chest to slow him down. “Wait, are there cameras in here?”

“Would you even care if there was?”

“Not really, but you should.”

He pulls his hand out and slams it against my mouth, I can feel my wetness on my cheek at the move. “Just shut the fuck up.”

My thighs tighten at his authoritative tone. I’m not going to argue with that. He wants to be in control. He wants this, and I’m not going to complain. He yanks at my jeans and tosses them onto the bench behind me. Luckily, he keeps my underwear on because I can feel how cold my ass would be on the boards without them.

He pulls down his sweatpants just enough to free himself, pulling my panties to the side as he slides the tip of his cock along my soaking slit. I groan and buck my hips wanting more.

“Shit,” he drops his head and I stop moving. “I don’t have a condom on me.”

“Oh,” I want to scream. “I get it if you want to stop, but I am on the pill and I’m clean. I know your history though and if you don’t trust it, I understand.”

His eyes are locked on mine, and I hope he can see my sincerity, even though I would rather lay naked on the ice than stop right now. I see the internal battle raging in his eyes and when he swipes the tip through me again, I can’t help the moan I let out when he grazes my clit.

I see the moment his decision is made, he guides my legs around his hips, and pulls me against him by my ass with one hand. “I’ll pull out,” he says roughly before shoving forward with a single thrust.

I cry out at the intrusion and how the bite of pain from the initial stretch blends into the pleasure. His fingertips bite into my ass while I wrap my arms around his neck as he continues his brutal thrusts, truly taking out any leftover aggression on my body. And I welcome it.

“It should be fucking illegal for you to feel this good. Goddammit,” he grunts.

I couldn’t agree more, but I’m unable to say anything, I pull his mouth onto mine because I need him to fuck my mouth like he’s fucking my pussy.

“Shit,” he groans, “too hard to fuck you like this. Go lay on the bench.”

It takes me a couple seconds to register his command, but I do what he says. Hopping off the boards I lay back on the bench while he joins me. I look up to watch as he’s standing above me, looking down at how I’m spread for him while his wet cock stands proudly in front of him. I want to take him into my mouth, but this is about what he wants and if he doesn’t tell me to, then I’m not going to.

He leans over, grabbing both my hands and holding my wrists above my head while guiding himself back inside me. I moan at how much better he feels at this angle. His hand slides up my body, stopping at one breast, squeezing and pulling at my nipple through the thin, barely there bra I have on. He does the same thing to the other one, then slides up to my throat, collaring his hand there.

My eyes roll at the sensation being completely at his mercy while he fucks me. He’s using me as his own personal fucktoyright now and I love it. I want to give him this and give him what he needs right now.

“So fucking perfect,” he says so quietly I almost miss it.

“You feel so good,” I moan, especially when he angles his hips, so his pelvis rubs against my clit with each thrust.

“You better come for me. I want you to strangle my cock, pretty girl. Give it to me. Give itallto me.”

I push against his hold on my wrists to feel the resistance. His hand around my throat tightens slightly and it only brings me closer to the edge.

“Harder,” I moan.

He squeezes harder, while also slamming his hips against me harder and the orgasm barrels toward me, not like the fake one I had earlier, this one is very real. Almost painfully real as I feel it building and building. I wonder if I’m even going to reach the peak because the strength of it, I can already feel, has me worried I’m going to pass out before it can hit me.

But then it does, and I cry out, Charlie’s hand moves from my neck up to my mouth, smothering my cries as he continues to pound into me. When I come down, I’m practically limp and I watch as he pushes my sweater up my stomach before pulling out of me, pumping himself furiously before ropes of cum land on my skin. He groans through his release, and I can tell his was just as powerful and he has to steady himself after it’s finished, which is harder for him since he’s still on his skates.

I can visibly see he’s more relaxed once his eyes meet mine. Or maybe he’s achieved that complete exhaustion he was looking for. Either way, I think my plan worked.

His eyes trail my body, and they flare seeing his mark on me. I swipe my hand through it and his amazement turns to shock. He reaches over where there’s a stack of towels and wipes himself from me.

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