Page 122 of Silenced

Though she pouts, her eyes gleam when I start to drag her skirt up her thighs. “What are you doing?”

Is she being coy?

Not with me.

“You’re going to sit on my cock like a good girl, stuffed full with me, taking every inch, and you’re going to eat what I feed you while your pussy keeps me nice and warm.”

There’s no mistaking her response.

Slightly flared nostrils, dilated pupils, heavier breaths… legs parting to give me immediate access.

I’d smile in satisfaction, but in a flurry of movement, she shifts from my lap and straddles me, reaching between us to unfasten my zipper before dragging her skirt higher up her hips.

“Are you moving this fast because you’re hungry?”

She grumbles at my teasing. “Hunger can be twofold.”

I flick my fingers over her chest so that I can pull down the neckline and expose the upper curves of her tits.

Dropping kisses along the swells, I leave little nips and bites that will stain the pale white skin later.

With my free hand, I spread my fingers in a wave over my face with the sign for: “Beautiful.”

Her cheeks pinken. “Thank you,” she whispers, but she presses her lips to my throat so she can hide.

Grabbing a hold of her hips, I grind her into me. When her bare pussy rubs over my crotch, she yelps and retreats.

Good—I want to see her face.

“Stop,” she cries. “You’ll get your pants wet!”

When I arch a brow, her flush deepens, hotter than ever.

“You can’t walk out drenched in—”

“I can’t?”

“No,” she hisses, peering around as if someone can see.

But no one will see her like this.

Ever.

She is mine.

Her pleasure is mine.

Her orgasms are mine.

Her beauty is fucking mine.

I grab her hips again and angle my own upward, further grinding us together. Her eyelids fall to a heavy mast at the pressure, at the sensation of silk against her, but nothing could be as silky as she is.

Nothing is better thanher.

Nothing.

She groans and starts to rock into me, finding a rhythm that has us both sweating.

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