Page 99 of Hot Shot

When I angle my hips just right, his shaft kisses and teases my aching clit, his words electric.

His eyes are hooded when he looks up at me, his fingers rolling and squeezing my sensitive nipple.

“Close your eyes,” he commands, draping one of my arms over his shoulder.

Smiling, I obey, draping the other.

“Tell me what you feel,” he says, using his arm to hold me tighter, giving me more pressure.

For a second, I don’t know a single word, too brainless and preoccupied with the feeling of him everywhere, amplified by my lack of sight. I ride him slow, a little cry escaping me when he pinches my nipple hard enough to sting. My hips buck in answer.

“Answer me.”

“Mmm, sharp. Again.” When he does, I hiss. “Like a shock straight to my pussy.”

He pumps purposely, holding my ass still so his pelvis can kiss my tender clit. “What else?”

“My clit. I like when it meets your cock like—oh!” I breathe when he thrusts to meet me exactly where I want him. “Yes. You’re…I’m sofull, Wilder.”

“Because you’re so fucking tight. There’s nowhere to go when I come.”

The thought of him coming almost undoes me. “I just…I want to…”

“What? Tell me what you want,” he soothes, kissing my nipple again.

The harder I grind, the fuller I am, tightening around him as he swells. “I want to feel you come. I want to see your face and know it’s for me. Only for me.”

“I can give that to you,” he says, shifting to lay me on the bed, separating us in the process. I mewl my disappointment, but he’s already climbing up after me. “But first, I want yours.” I watch his cock bob, wet and shining as he spreads his knees, spreading my thighs with them. And then my view disappears, but before I can complain, I’m blessed with the full weight of his body, heavy and strong, crushing me into the bed.

He’s everywhere, kissing me, caging me. Pulling my knee to tuck my leg into his side, spreading me open, his other hand braced in the mattress. In the space between us, we watch his hips shift, and I’m hypnotized by the sight of the tip of his cock meeting the rippling flesh of my pussy, then disappearing into me, inch by sublime inch.

He swallows my moan and pumps his hips with the intent to fucking end me once and for all. I am electric, my orgasm zinging with every jolt as he coaxes and teases and demands it from me. As if he owns my pleasure along with my heart and my soul and my body.

I gave them all to him long, long ago.

“That’s right,” he whispers. “I want it from you. It’smine.”

I try to speak but it’s gibberish, my skin on fire.

“Every fucking whimper and moan. Every rush that wets your thighs. Every time you come, it’smine,” he pants, fucking me into oblivion. “Look at me,” he demands.

I peel my heavy lids back, my vision dark and sparking. But he’s in the middle of the whole fucking universe, looking down at me like he owns me.

“Give me what’s mine,wife.”

The flare of pleasure explodes in waves driven by the timbre of his voice, by the certainty with which he orders me to come. From deep inside me, from a place no one has ever touched, the orgasm comes and comes and comes, and I writhe against him, pressed into the bed, clinging to his broad back like he might save me.

Maybe he already did.

He could have every orgasm for all eternity if they’re all like this.

By the time I slide back into my body, we’ve slowed, his lips busy with the column of my neck, the line of my jaw, then my lips, the kiss soft and hard and possessive.

When he breaks away, I whisper, “My turn.”

I draw my thighs up, his gaze dragging down my body, locking on the point where his cock is buried in me. He watches his length appear slowly, wet and shining, then disappear again. My hips rise to meet his.

“Now I want yours. Tell me what I do to you.”

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