Page 156 of Petite Fleur

I blush at his words and lay my forehead on the cold table to cool my heated face.

Of all the praise I've had in my life and all the compliments, I thrive on his.

Finally, I hear Leon unbutton his pants. I feel him get on his knees behind me and hold my hips in his hands. “My pretty little mess, look at all this cum.” He says while his fingers swipe between me and collect my arousal on his hand.

He dips his fingers into me, bringing his hand up to my face. “Be my good pet and lick your cum from my fingers.” He insists.

I whine, but I open my mouth and let him put his glistening fingers into my mouth and suck them clean while he rubs the head of his cock against my pussy.

“My God, you are so good. Do you want me to take it nice and slow, fuck you until you can't possibly cum again? Or would you prefer me to fuck you like the toy you are?” He asks.

I'm practically melting into this table at his words and the feeling of his cock just barely nudging me.

I need him inside of me.

He pulls his fingers out of my mouth, wiping the spit from them onto my butt while he waits for me to decide, but I already know my answer. “Hard. Please. Don't hold back.” I plead.

I'm not even sure if I know what I'm saying; he always has to go easy on me. He always has to take it slow so he can fit inside me. So why am I asking him to hurt me?

Why am I almost dripping at the thought?

He pushes the head of his cock into me, making me have to bite down on my arm to quiet my noises.

“Are you sure you can handle it? Hmm? Can you be my good little slut and let me fuck you like I hate you?” He asks.

“Yes.” I pant.

I feel him smooth his hand down my spine, his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps through my shirt.

“Are you sure? We were a little rough just now, and it's okay if you've had all you can handle.” He says much more calmly.

I nod and wiggle my hips in the hope of getting more than just the head of his cock in me. “I'm okay.” I promise.

That must be all he needed to hear because he thrusts into me all at once. One rough thrust, and he's as far in me as he can reach.

I cry out, tensing at how full I feel, but I can't go anywhere; I can't do anything but take what he gives me.

“Deep breaths, ma fleur.” He says calmly.

While I take a few steadying breaths, he traces his fingers along my spine and praises my every breath as if I've done something spectacular.

“Good job, ma fleur.”

“That's it, a few more.”

“You're doing so well.”

And many more.

When I feel the chills on my body fade and my pussy relaxes around his cock, he wraps my hair around his fist like a rope and pulls.

I feel like a bull being pulled by their reins, and my head snaps back until I'm forced to look at the ceiling, and my back arches uncomfortably.

“You don't get to run from me.” He mumbles into my ear before harshly biting my earlobe.

His thrusts are hard, fast, and punishing. He pounds into me like he's worried this is the last time he will ever see me.

Every thrust makes me gasp and fight in his hold; every thrust makes me wetter and more needy.

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