Page 78 of The Stud

There’s barely enough room to nod but I do.

“Very well then…” A deliciously torturous lick lands against my lips. “Eyes on me, Slayer.”

Between the branding I’d never envisioned I’d wear and the delectable clasp I’m being controlled by, I’m not entirely sure I can keep them from rolling into the back of my head.

And once the finger lingering inside begins to shallowly thrust, grinding me against his swollen shaft, forcing the fabric of my shorts to caress my clit, it becomes the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my entire life.

Including resisting this stud to begin with.

Through hooded vision I watch him watch me.

Get lost in the tumultuous motions.

Succumb to steady stroke after stroke after stroke of sensitive muscles that haven’t been touched by someone else in far too long.

Clenching at my neck mimics the ones my pussy is delivering below, creating a carnal cycle of clutching and choking that has my nails anxiously scraping at his shoulders.

Pecks.

Shoulders again as I mindlessly whimper, “Close…”

Tanner amps up the pushing.

The pressure.

Tugs me the length of his dick while tightening his hold to the point my breaths turn mind spinningly shallow and my shoulders sag and heavenly shivers shoot uncontrollably throughout my system.

“So,” can barely be formed, “close…”

Pleased grumbles precede faint panting, although I’m not entirely sure if it’s him.

Or me.

Or both.

Clamping on his finger shifts from constant to ceaseless prompting me to purr, “I’m gonna-”

The abrupt removal of his digit and denial are done in one fluid execution. “No.”

A squeak of objection is the most I can conjure up – partially because his hand is around my throat and partially because my brain is orgasmic mush.

“Up,” instructs Tanner in tandem with assisting me to my feet. “Take me out.”

Reluctance is non-existence.

Reaching for the waistband of his sweats requires me to choke myself proving I trulytrusthim.

Trust that he’ll never hurt me.

Trust that he’ll keep me safe.

Trust that he’ll please me if I simply do my part andlet him.

“You look so fucking gorgeous in my silky mitt, babe,” Tanner praises while I hastily work the article downward. “You belong here.”

Aching between my thighs is mirrored in my chest, although ignoring it for the one I know I’m seconds from dulling is easily done.

The instant his dick is free enough for the taking, he sits back on the edge of the bed, yanks my shorts aside, and slams me down on top, lips knocking against the shell of the ear that bares my aid. “The first time you come is gonna be on my cock, Arden.” Whatever argument I can possibly consider is immediately erased by a heavy heave. “And so will the next.”

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