Page 90 of Mark

“Fuck,” I hiss when he grabs my hips. He’s going to leave a mark.

“Come for me,” he demands.

“I…” It’s there, on the brink. When his hand moves around me, finding that tiny bud of nerves, he presses his thumb against it, just like he did my arse.

I throw my head back, my fingers gripping the headboard until my knuckles turn white. I cry out as wave after wave of pleasure rolls over me.

“Yes!” he hisses, slamming inside of me harder.

Once, twice.

Then I feel his cock twitch, his thrusts slowing as he pumps his cum inside of me.

I drop my hands, pressing my cheek to the bed as my strength leaves my body. His cock twitches as he presses a kiss to my spine.

He pulls out, dropping down on the bed beside me. “I hope you didn’t skip any meals today,” he warns.

I arch an eyebrow at him. “And why is that?”

He turns to his side, running his hand over my back. “Because I don’t plan on us getting much sleep. You’re going to need your energy.”

I grin, patting his chest. “You are so cute.”

His eyebrows rise. “You don’t believe me.”

An unladylike snort escapes my mouth. “I’m man; I can go all night,” I tease in a deep voice. “Why do men always make pointless promises?”

He grabs my hand, pressing it against his cock. My eyes widen when I feel it harden. “Trust me, it’s not going to be a problem.”

“Jesus Christ, did you take a Viagra?” I question.

His eyes narrow into slits. “No.”

“Are you sure someone else didn’t slip you some?” I ask, genuinely curious. But there’s no denying my lady parts are so on board with this. It’s like I’ve missed out on sex my entire life and now I need my fill.

He grabs me by the hips, lifting me until I’m on top of him. I sit up, my thighs on either side of him. He lazily lifts his hands, playing with my tits. “I’m going to fuck these too.”

“You really are a dreamer,” I state, sounding bored.

When I’m anything but.

There’s just something about a guy paying attention to your tits during intercourse.

“Up!” he demands.

I raise my arse just enough for him to line his cock at my entrance. Before I can tease him, mess with him, he’s pulling me back down, impaling me on his cock.

“Jesus,” I whisper.

“Ride me,” he orders, going back to playing with my tits.

And so I do.

Not letting him back up when he demands it.

Not even when he grips my hips, trying to take over.

I ride him, grinding myself on him. I feel powerful, like a succubus seducing their prey as I stay in control. The intensity of that power is what brings me to another orgasm.

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