Page 102 of Born for Lace

He sets me on the car’s bonnet, his hands on either side of my body. As he drags his lips down my chin, travelling to my chest, belly, ending between my legs, I moan and arch at the sudden excitement. A small ache flares through my side from my own eager movements, and I wince but don’t want to stop.

Lagos’ gaze snaps up to meet mine when he hears my discomfort. “Flower?”

“I’m okay.” I pant, lifting my hips again, careful this time. “Please, please don’t stop. Please, Lagos.”

“No.” He grips my hips and slides me down from the car, but before I can protest, he turns me around and bends me over the bonnet. “Relax.”

Huge, warm hands journey up my naked thighs, drawing the long shirt to my hips, then dragging my knickers down to weave my ankles together.

Exposing me.

My cheek meets the cool metal machine. A large, muscular arm tucks under me, supporting my torso, as he lays over me on the bonnet.

“Don’t fight me. Let me take this body. I’ll be careful with it,” he whispers in my ear. I can smell his sweat and oils and a musk that is all male. And the heat… so much heat blankets me.

I hear the shuffling of his pants, feel the warmth of his dick between my thighs. The crown presses inside me from behind, reminding me how swollen and used I already am.

“Oh.” I moan long and hard, and he holds me still, safe, as he slowly moves in and out. His dick is thick, so thick and so long, soon it rubs me to a hot, wet, shuddering mess.

I squeeze my eyes shut as pleasure becomes a bundle of sensation in my belly, circling and circling.

“You like that?” He stays deep, rocking his hips, my arousal making wet sounds to the slow, rolling motion. “Sowet for me. I thought a sweet thing like you would be too afraid of the monster to drip for him. I was wrong, wasn’t I? You want me to mount you, fuck you, feed on your innocence.”

I moan at his dark words.

Lagos starts to groan as my clenching channel works around his thrusts, seemingly urging him to speed up and paw at my thighs.

“Oh, Lagos.”

“Fuck,yes, little flower. My sweet untouched girl with her lovely wet pussy that holds my cock so perfectly.”

His words, his filthy words…

That hot bundle of pleasure gathers and grows, spreading to my inner thighs and lifting to my belly and everywhere in between.

“This is mine. You know that.” His lips touch my ear, heat rushing me like rivers of molten lava. “So I need you to learn how to come. Do you understand what I mean by come?”

I am barely breathing as he pulses softly inside me. “Yes. Climax.”

“Yes.I need you to learn how to make yourselfclimax. Because when I leave, the only hands allowed on this sweet, young cunt will be your own.”

I open my eyes to the barn wall and his hand beside my head on the bonnet, bracing his body over mine.

“Okay,” I breathe.

He rolls against my backside, stroking the muscles inside me, gentle but thorough, never drawing out completely. “Before we get to the Common Community, you will play with your body until you understand it the way I do.” He stills, and I moan—sulk—needing more friction, more stimulation, more… Just more.

“Please, Lagos. Move.”

He hums, throbbing against my clinging insides but not offering the friction I am desperate for. Need.

“You will show me how well you’re learning, perform for me, and you will do it over and over again until you’re so attuned with your fat, little clit and your perfect, tight cunt that I know you can look after yourself.”

“Okay, brute.” I roll forward, trying to use the bonnet to cool the hot agony screaming at my wet centre. “Please, please move. I need you to move.”

He chuckles, a deep timbre that rumbles against my backside and through me. “Easy, little flower.” He lifts up and pets a huge hand down the length of my spine. “You’re fragile.” He draws out excruciatingly slow and pushes in, inch by inch, driving me insane. “So pretty.” I rock back and forth against the car, my backside hounding his pelvis for more. More.

Two hands circle my hips, fingers pressing over my pubis and thumbs digging into the dips at the base of my spine. With a grunt, he starts to pound into me, holding me with steady authority.

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