Page 51 of Contention

It’s a mimicry of a thrust and if there were no clothes between them, he’d be inside her, spreading her open. Kara plants her face in the nape of his neck, embarrassed as a humiliating noise escapes her lips, feeling the bulbus head of his cock pressed against her slit, only separated by thin clothing. She’s soaked herself with need already.

Those fingers fight their way under the waistband of her leggings and Kara feels her heartbeat in her center now. Her very being is focused on the thrum of blood inside of her core.

Oh, but Kara is a wicked, wicked girl and she whispers against his vicious mouth, “Oh, please don’t.” Her tone is scared and submissive, pretending to be virginal and nervous. “Don’t touch me there. Your fingers are too big, you’ll hurt me.” She stares into his eyes as she says it, watches the way his eyes nearly go black, his mouth going slack for a brief moment.

Something flashes in his gaze, like he’s mentally cursing her for knowing his game, for knowing what gets him going. Then, his hand is fully down the back of her leggings, delving past her thong. He lifts his hips up, grinding up against her just as his fingers find her center, touching her soft flesh.

Kara feels her back arch, lips opening wide and he’s watching her face. She can barely stand to look at him now. Too intimate, too close, doesn’t want him seeing her needing his touch like this. Responding to it.Wanting it.

…shouldn’t be wanting him, he’s a monster, shouldn’t, but…oh God yes….

His tropical eyes are dilated and Calais looks gobsmacked at finding her soaked through. He’s frozen, muscles tensed and ready, but something has him caught.That’s not part of the game, Kara thinks through her arousal.You’re not supposed to be this wet if you’re scared, after all.

“Come on, old man,” Kara goads before sinking her teeth into his neck viciously, hearing him grunt in pain, the muscle there convulsing under her teeth. “I thought you liked it rough?”

He curses, he actually swears and Kara nearly orgasms right there, because he’s always so proper with his words and she finds a certain delight in making him succumb to his baser desires. He’s not so perfect underneath it all, is he? He’s just like any other man, led by his cock.

Making a soft noise of impatience in her throat, she arches her back downward in an almost uncomfortable fashion, seeking to take his fingers into her as her hips lift. It’s her choice this time and she wants him inside of her, she wants to gethers.

He’s been stroking her folds gently, playing, not penetrating with his fingers. Keeping her on edge, keeping her guessing for when he’s going to give her a stretch to enjoy. The bastard moves so painfully slow, savoring her stifled gasps, the way she rubs and humps against him.

Which, is debasing, kinda, but Kara is too far gone to give a care. She can barely focus on anything besides chasing the final release,so close.

When he finally slips those digits inside, Kara digs her nails into his shoulders, because his two fingersarelarge, much larger than her own, and it’s certainly been some time sinceanythinghas been inside of her.

Calais looks slightly dazed, his hips jerking at the feeling of her, so wet around his digits. He makes a slow glide in and out, and the sounds that accompany it are gross, sloppy, sex noises that have his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip.

Kara flushes; she’s embarrassingly wet. Not an easy feat for her these days, nearing thirty. Her body just isn’t the same as it was when she was eighteen and wetall the fucking time. Like a goddamn leaky faucet. Oh, no, the past few years there’s been this whole thing about actuallyneedingartificial lube and Kara’s body is like a clock ticking down time until menopause. Goddamn morbid!

Or, perhaps her last few boyfriends just didn’t turn her engine on. Who can say?

Her clit rubs against him just right and she’s a groaning mess, her mind narrowing back on track once more.

The slide of his digits into her swollen, heated flesh is surreal and she inhales hard just as he growls low in his throat, a sound that spirals her higher. It’s a satisfying stretch, she’s wet enough that there’s barely a burn of discomfort, and Kara undulates her hips against his cock again, rubbing herself the way she likes.

She’s pleased that he doesn’t do the typical instant finger fucking that so many guys do, the rough shove in raw. Kara loathes that act, the way it throws her off her arousal, off her game and straight into irritation. Instead, his fingers are almost still, precisely stroking her insides in an unfailing rhythm that doesn’t change. Fucking hell,yes. It’s like a teasing tickle, a massage of her inner walls, edging her to greater heights.

He lets her ride his hand however she pleases and damn if that doesn’t make Kara glad. Control ishers. She can rub her front against him at will without worrying that he’s going to throw her off with a rude jab; his touch is far too skilled and knowing for that.

Sometimes, she thinks this might be better than sex itself. It’s simple, it’s fast, she can cum just from the pressure of her body on another. She doesn’t even have to worry about the pleasure of the man, in fact, she doesn’t care and that makes her grin like a Cheshire cat.

And, she uses him the way she wants, regardless of the morality of it, regardless of if he’s getting any enjoyment from it. This. Is. For. Kara.

Does it make her just as bad as him? Perhaps. He’s used her before. This is only payback.

She buries her face in his neck, panting hard, her teeth pressing against his heated skin. Her tongue darts out and she can taste the salt of sweat. She tenses against him, chasing the edge that’s just in reach, sweat on the nape of her neck. She’s near forgotten him in her pursuit of her own interests.

Her belly aches, arousal screaming for completion. Kara can practically outline the bulbus head of his cock with her needy core, the way she presses against him, hard and ready. Once more, she finds herself thinking about them with no clothes on, how he’d slip inside, stretch her out, a nice strong fill before bottoming out.

She thinks about him pinning her down, grinding into her, like he’s trying to crawl inside her skin. Tries to imagine his cock being like his fingers, stroking her from the inside out, but bigger,oh God, a lot bigger.

Calais has his head tipped back against the chair, mouth open, eyes closed. His throat is exposed and Kara takes advantage of this once more, satisfying her urge to sink her teeth into something. The sounds he makes are deep and low in his body and Kara loves the sound, the way she can feel them against her belly.

More passing images of sexualization float into Kara’s mind. She wonders what it would be like to truly be fucked by a man like this, if he’d be the sort to plow her into submission, to quell her wildcat urges. At the mental image of him thrusting into her from behind, her hair twisted in his fist, Kara shatters deliriously around his fingers, clenching down tight on them as she grinds against him, keening loudly. Distantly, she hears him utter another curse under his breath, a strangled noise, the hand on her hip tightening painfully in an expression of his excitement. Kara ignores him, just enjoying the feel of his two fingers playing in her mess, stroking the walls of her insides as she comes down from her clitoral high.

She wonders if he can feel her heartbeat from inside.

Then, as desire slips away, rational thought returns with the force of a semi-truck.Did you forget who this man is?

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