Page 52 of Into the Woods

So I took matters in hand. I blew out the air I’d held in my lungs for far too long and pushed my hips back, spearing myself on his dick.

Stars flashed behind my eyes at the feeling of fullness.

Obviously, I have no comparison, but Christophe isbig.

I don’t feel a pinch. It’s not a hint or a bite of pain. It’s a damn life changing intrusion that threatens to split me wide open and spill an ocean of tears.

But I’m not alone in this.

Christophe’s fingers dig into my hip as his free hand slides up the center of my back, finally twisting in my hair, the bite at my scalp distracting from the feeling of being torn apart.

His hips are flush against my ass and I’m grateful for the moment to catch my breath. Because the minute he says my name, growling it like he’s the one having sex for the first time, Christophe fucking moves.

He drags out slowly and then thrusts in hard, slamming into me, fucking me thoroughly; all I can do is hold on and pray that I make it through to the finish.

“Fuck,” rolls off his tongue, the tone guttural and primal.

Deft fingers slide from my hip and swirl in tight circles around my clit, teasing the bundle of nerves, coiling the muscles in my core until I explode.

My legs tremble and no matter how hard I try, my fingers find no purchase against the glass.

If Christophe didn’t have one arm wrapped around me and the other tangled in my hair, I’d fall to the ground in a puddle of nothingness.

But Christophe pulls free, the loss of him filling me is jarring, and he scoops me into his arms carrying me like his bride.

Not a virginal one though, that’s for damn sure.

“That was two. I’m going to need a couple more from you, honeybee.” He lays me down in the center of his massive bed andcrawls up my body. He curves his big palm around my breast, holding me hostage as he licks, sucks, and feasts on my nipple. He settles between my thighs, filling me in a single thrust.

I gasp, arching my breast into his mouth.

I don’t think I can do it. I don’t think I’m capable of having another orgasm, my body is spent and sensitive as all hell. “I can’t,” I whine, hating how breathless I sound.

Christophe laughs, low and dark. “Bullshit. You can and you will.” His hips rock, pistoning his cock in and out of me.

My protests morph into moans of pleasure. Squirming away from him becomes rocking and writhing into him, and with absolutely no warning, he pushes me over the edge, and I shatter again.

His breath is hot against my ear. “That’s a good girl. I need another,” he demands not pausing in the way he plays my body.

Each touch demands pleasure from me, promising even more in return.

Every slide of his body over mine has my insides clenching and my eyes rolling back in my head.

He plants his hands on the mattress and pushes up, shoving his knees hard against the backs of my thighs. Then his hands spread my knees wide.

“Fucking stunning. Jesus, honeybee, you couldn’t be any more beautiful. Look at the way your perfect pussy takes my cock. You were made for me.” Every delicious word is punctuated with a thrust of his hips.

The change in angle takes my breath away, and this time when I come, Christophe follows me. And it is spectacular.

He throws his head back and buries himself deep inside me. His cock pulses, and I swear I canfeelhis hot cum filling me. And the entire time, his hooded eyes are locked on mine, never straying, his intense focus never wavering.

When he catches his breath, he says, “Fuck yes, honeybee. You are absolutely perfect.”

He thrusts lazily, dragging his cock all the way out of me before slowly pushing back in. He watches the movement with nothing short of awe painted across his beautiful face. His lips quirk up on one side pulling a satisfied smirk from him.

“Think you have another in you?” he asks reaching between us and circling my clit with his thumb.

I yelp and try to squeeze my legs closed, but Christophe wedges his body farther between them.

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