Page 40 of His Naughty Girl

I whimpered in response, unable to form words with my mouth so full. Dylan’s thrusts grew more forceful, his cock hitting the back of my throat with each movement. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, but I didn’t want him to stop.

“That’s it. Take it all,” he growled. “Just a little fuck toy.”

His crude words sent a jolt of shameful arousal through me. I tried to make my mouth even softer, even more welcoming for the man who knew me better than I knew myself, as embarrassing as his revelations were.

Dylan’s fingers worked magic on my pussy, stroking and teasing until I was trembling on the edge of orgasm. Just as I thought I might explode, he withdrew his hand. I whined in protest, but then gasped as I felt his slick fingers probing at my bottom.

“Going to fill up all your holes, baby,” Dylan growled. “I’m going to be the one to open you. Do you want that? Do you want this cock to claim you completely?”

I let out a sob around the thrusting shaft as I looked my helpless confirmation into Dylan’s intense, lustful gaze.

Dylan’s fingers pressed insistently against my bottom hole, slick with my own arousal. I whimpered around his cock as I felt the tip of one digit breach the tight ring of muscle. The burning stretch sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain through my body.

“That’s it, baby,” Dylan growled. “Open up for me. Let me in everywhere.”

His finger sank deeper into my bottom as he continued to thrust into my mouth. The dual penetration felt like it would overwhelm my senses. My hips rocked involuntarily, seeking friction against his probing digits.

Dylan’s free hand tangled in my hair, holding me still as he fucked my face with increasing urgency. “Fuck, Andrea,” he groaned. “So good. Already such a perfect little cocksucker.”

The lewd praise sent another surge of need through me. I moved my tongue under his shaft, tracing the prominent veins in hope of pleasing his penis as he drove it in and pulled it out.

“That’s it, good girl,” Dylan grunted. “Gonna fill that pretty throat with my cum. You want that, don’t you? Want to swallow every drop?”

I moaned my assent, beyond caring about anything but bringing him pleasure. Dylan’s hips stuttered as he neared his peak. His finger in my bottom moved, and then he put his thumb gently on my clit, and I knew I stood at the edge of a cliff, about to fly.

“Come for me,” he commanded roughly. “Come on my fingers while I flood that sweet mouth.”

The coil of tension in my core snapped. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over me as my orgasm ripped through my body. I screamed around Dylan’s cock, my pussy clenching rhythmically around nothing as my climax consumed me.

Dylan growled his own release, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself down my throat. I swallowed reflexively, drinking down his essence as if it were the most precious nectar. His finger slipped from my bottom as the last aftershocks of pleasure rippled through me.

Gently, he withdrew from my mouth. He gathered me into his arms, cradling me against his broad chest as we both caught our breath. I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his masculine scent.

“You were perfect, sweetheart,” Dylan murmured, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “So beautiful and submissive.”

He maneuvered us under the covers, pulling me close. I draped myself half across his body, my head resting on his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat soothed me.

“Sleep now, Andrea,” Dylan whispered, his fingers combing through my hair. “I’ve got you.”

Wrapped in his strong embrace, I tried to stay awake, because I wanted so badly to feel his naked warmth against my skin. The harder I tried to form thoughts, though, the more disconnected they became, and it couldn’t have been more than a minute or two before I drifted off into a deep, contented slumber.

The next morning, I awoke alone in my bed. For a moment, I felt a pang of disappointment at an absence I couldn’t put my finger on. Then the memories of the previous night came flooding back, a wave of heat washed over me, and I named what I wanted.

Dylan.

I could almost feel his strong hands on my body, his hungry mouth devouring my most intimate places. The ghost of his thick cock sliding between my breasts and filling my throat made me shiver with renewed desire. My nipples hardened into tight peaks as I recalled the exquisite sensation of his fingers probing my virgin holes while he used my mouth for his pleasure.

Without conscious thought, my hand slid down my body. I gasped softly as my fingers encountered the slick folds of my pussy. I was already embarrassingly wet, my arousal coating my inner thighs.

Biting my lip to stifle my moans, I began to play with myself in earnest. I circled my clit with teasing strokes, imagining it was Dylan’s skilled tongue instead of my own fingers. My other hand came up to cup my breast, pinching and rolling the nipple just as Dylan had done.

I arched my back, lost in the sensations and memories. In my mind, Dylan loomed over me, his hazel eyes dark with lust as he prepared to claim me fully. I could almost feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against my vagina’s virgin entrance, ready to stretch me open and make me his.

My fingers moved faster, more urgently. The balloon of pleasure in my belly got lighter and lighter. I was so close, teetering on the edge of bliss. Just a few more strokes and I would be there…

“Andrea Jacobsen!”

Greta’s sharp voice cut through my haze of arousal like a bucket of ice water. I yanked my hand away from my pussy and sat bolt upright, my face flaming with mortification.

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