Page 42 of The Secrets We Share

She stills, watching me shift off the mattress, squatting down behind the chest at the end of the bed. I tilt open the lid and dig through the different leather, metal, and silicone until I find what I want.

I extend the metal until it clicks into place, the double cuffs on each end clinking against each other as they dangle in the air. Her eyes grow wide with its appearance.

“Talk to me, little one.”

“Green,” she says, a smile lighting up her eager face.

“Roll over. Face down, ass up.”

I drop the bar against her calves, and it slides to the crease of her knee. She’s so beautifully on display, and my palm itches to redden her taut skin. I let them wander, smoothing over the globes of her ass and up the tattooed arch of her back. One hand tangles in the messy locks of long dark hair, pulling taut to distract her just long enough that her eyes look over her shoulder to lock with mine.

My free hand drops forcefully, the crack of skin on the skin breaking the silence between us. Her jaw tightens as she adjusts to the sting, but doesn’t let a peep go.

That just won’t do.

Pulling her head back further, I twist and angle to slap a bit harder on the other cheek. This time, she drags in a pained gulp. The third time my stinging hand hits her flesh on the inside of her thigh, I get what I want.

Her scream breaks free beautifully, echoing off the walls.

“You sing so pretty for me, sweetness. Do you think our guests like your song?”

She quiets and stills, realization dawning on her face that James and Stacey are a mere hallway away. They might be asleep and oblivious, or they might be tuning in to a lot more.

She stirs when one of the cuffs tightens against her ankle, but the opposite’s too close to reach the bar's edge. I shove against her lower back, slipping her hips wider and exposing more of that dripping cunt.

She’s half locked in when I instruct, “Arms back, grab your ankles for me.” It’s not a comfortable position, but that’s not the point. The point is that she’s utterly exposed and open to me with nowhere to go. My favorite.

“Fuck, you’re exquisite on display like this, little one.”

“Please,” she whines.

Her back arches and retracts, tilting her hips in desperation.

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck my pussy.”

I hum in interest, running my fingers along her slit to her entrance. I know she's ready for me when I push into her warmth without resistance. Slipping my finger in my mouth to clean it of her juices breaks the last thread of control. Teasing her is my own masochistic torture.

Notching my cock, my free hand grips the soft curve of her hip crease before I impale her in one hard thrust. It’s too much. The way her heat grips every inch, and her moan drawls out. I don’t let her adjust. My pace keeps a ruining speed that sends my balls slapping against her clit.

“This pussy was made for me, little one. You were made for me.”

“Yes,” she cries.

I won’t last. Not when she feels like a perfectly warm summer day. My spine tingles, the telltale sign I’ve got seconds to make her fall apart before I do. She’s almost entirely flat against the mattress, but I slide my hand between, finding her clit swollen and sensitive.

Bent like this, her murmured mumblings of nonsense reach my ears and spur me on. My hips rotate and drag slowly as I let my fingers finish the show.

“Come for me,” I whisper directly into her ear, my breath fluttering against her wild hair.

She shatters, her screams no doubt pulling our house guests from a dead sleep. Shit, the people in the next apartment over can probably hear the echoes of her pleasure. I push past her contracting inner walls till I’m buried deep. The damn breaks washing the pins and needles away from my skin and directing them all to the base of my cock as I pump through it, emptying every drop into her.

We lie there in a heaping mess of stickiness and intertwined limbs. The high dwindles, and my breath calms. I kiss the side of her head, and she sighs softly, still wrapped in the afterglow.

“My perfect little whore,” I praise, watching her cheek pull up in a proud smile.

Pulling out, I watch my cum drip from her swollen cunt. The first thing that comes to mind is reaching for a plug to shove back in and stop any more from escaping. The desire to fill her full of my seed strikes again. She’d kill me if she knew I couldn’t wait for the day to pump her full, raise her hips, and stay seated until the time ran out. But today’s not the day.

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