Page 39 of Snow Harm, No Foul

I nearly purr in response and keep my eyes pried open.

His grip on my throat relaxes slightly as he moans in approval and palms the top of my head. With a sharp thrust of his hips, he starts fucking my throat. In and out, in and out, I rock with the force of his movements and tighten my hold on his thighs.

“Push your tits together, baby. I’m gonna come,” he warns through clenched teeth.

I release his legs to grab at my breasts. A strangled moan escapes when a knuckle bumps my nipple, and sharp pleasure ripples down my spine.

“Fuck yes, angel. Just a little longer . . .Christ. Here it comes.”

Niko pulls out of my mouth and wraps a hand around his cock, stroking hard and fast. I’m covered in drool and precum, but apparently, I’m too far gone in my horned-up state to give a shit.

I push my tongue out and lift my breasts high, rubbing them together as I stare at the rough treatment he’s giving his shaft. I’d be more loving, tender, and maybe that’s why he’s the one in control right now.

“Keep that tongue out.”

His eyes narrow as the strong lines of his throat strain around a growl. The first rope of cum hits my collarbone; the next drips over my right breast.

I’m about to close my mouth when a third splashes over my extended tongue, making me pulse between my legs. Unable to help myself, I run a finger through the cum on my breast and bring it to my aching nipple before squeezing it softly, needing . . . needinganything.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” Niko rasps.

I nod, dazed, and intensify my pinch. “Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

Shuddering, I rub along my collarbone and then down to my pussy. The heel of my hand feels perfect as I push hard on my clit, my hips rocking.

“I need to come,” I whisper brokenly, so unlike myself.

Fingers wrap around my wrist, and then I’m pulled to my feet. Even while I moan in protest, I let him manhandle me. He moves us to a booth and presses my stomach against the table, my ass in the air.

“I’ll give you what you need. Always,” he swears from behind me.

I press my cheek to the table, smelling the scent of lemon cleaner. “Fuck me, Niko. I don’t care how, just?—”

I’m so wet he slides in with only a bit of struggle. Without being stretched first, it’s a tight fit, but I’m ready for him.

“Oh,” I whine, reaching back to touch his stomach.

It’s not as muscled as his son’s, but it’s still hard, strong. Niko is fit in thebuilt like a brick shithouseway. In thedon’t fuck with me unless you want to deal with missing teethkind of way. And I’ve never been as attracted to a man who looks like that as I am now.

He’s the exception to everything.

“How are you still hard?” I ask on a gasp.

“Always hard ’round you.”

With two hands on my hips, he drills into me, neither of us having the desire to go slow. I’m on a hair trigger, and with his next thrust, I’m putting the entirety of my weight on the table, too weak-kneed to hold myself up.

He rubs against my G-spot, maybe even my goddamn cervix, because I can’t breathe. Pleasure strangles me, the blast so intense that I slam my hand on the table over and over, gasping for air.

“Shouldn’t be able to come again already, but you’re milkin’ it out of me, baby. You’re such a slut for it, aren’t you?” he asks gruffly.

“Don’t stop!” I nearly scream. “Don’t stop. Don’t . . . stop.”

“Can’t.”

His movements grow fiercer and quicker, and that pressure inside of me blooms and shifts into something I’ve never felt before. I’m on my tiptoes, leaning back into his every thrust when whatever it is bursts.

---