Page 90 of Hounded: Ashes to Ashes

So fucking full. So thoroughly taken, claimed, owned.

He could turn me into such a slut. He’d never say that, but I felt it. On my hands and knees for him, exposed and as eager as a cock-starved whore.

But he was waiting for me to move, to take him as fast and deep as I wanted—as Ineeded. His hands curved around my sides, steadying me until I rocked forward, then shoved back into him hard enough his balls slapped against mine.

Loren grunted, and I thrust again, moving my whole body, fucking myself on his dick.

I gasped and gripped the sheets, taking every bit of his length as I railed against him over and again. My weeping cock rubbed the lace of my panties, and I fumbled for it. Same as before, Loren caught my wrist and moved it higher on the bed. I whimpered and writhed, speared on his dick and losing my rhythm entirely.

Precum soaked through the narrow crotch of my thong as Loren took over and pumped into me. I dissolved into a trembling mess, seated on his dick while wave after wave of heady bliss washed over me.

Release came before I expected it, and my cock jumped, spurting cum through the holes in the lace. It dripped between my legs, adding to the puddle on the sheets while my ass clenched around Loren.

He hissed a breath, bent over me and breathing as heavily as I was. His hold on my shoulders loosened, and I slithered down, unable to support myself on my limp arms.

I’d collapsed on the mattress seconds before Loren grabbed my hips and pulled me onto my knees. I moaned, too wobbly, too head-swimmy, too thoroughly fucked to take him anymore. The feeling of his cock sliding out, then reentering me started my body shaking.

“Lore,” I gasped, my face pressed into the bedsheets already damp with drool. “God, Lore, fuck…”

My limp dick twitched as he reseated himself inside me. My stomach was smeared with my own cum, and my skin was slicked with sweat. I was wrung out, empty, but that meant I was ready to be filled. Clenching my fists, I rocked weakly back into him.

Loren took the encouragement and ran with it, squeezing tightly around my waist and plunging deep. I yelped as he snapped his hips into me. Quick, powerful thrusts stole my breath until it was all I could do to take him, fully relaxed and letting him work my body over his cock.

Every time he slammed into me, it rattled my brain, reducing my thoughts to a fuzzy cloud of pleasure and my words to rambling whines.

“Baby… That’s good, baby. Don’t stop… I need you… I need…”

I needed his release. I wanted to be bursting, overflowing, and adding his mess to mine where it stained the sheets.

Loren knew, and he gave it to me.

I was boneless by the time his orgasm filled me. Cum flooded my ass and seeped out the sides of his dick as he plunged in twice more, fucking it deeply into me before he pulled back.

I moaned and slumped forward, feeling hot and wet all over.

Loren’s hands smoothed up my spine and under the hem of my pajama top. His touches were feathery as he lay beside me, then rested his head in the dip of my lower back. Everything was still except for his fingers. They kept moving, dragging down my body in long, seamless strokes.

For all the moisture coming from everywhere—pooled between my legs, smeared across my stomach, and leaking out of my used hole—it surprised me to feel a new spot of wetness forming under Loren’s cheek. He must have noticed it, too, because he sat up abruptly and wiped his arm across his eyes.

Was he crying?

It wasn’t unusual for me to get emotional, even weepy, about a good fuck, but Loren was more composed. He felt as deeply as I did, more so sometimes, but was less apt to show it.

It took effort to sit up and turn toward him. He was definitely crying and trying to hide it by dragging his shirt over his face as he shouldered into it.

I reached for him as he stood from the bed.

“Lore?” My voice was hoarse, and I coughed to clear it. “Was it that good?”

He glanced back and flashed a smile that fell far short of convincing. Walking down the side of the mattress, he came close enough to lean in and kiss my forehead.

“It was wonderful, Doll,” he said, then straightened. “Why don’t you get washed up? I’ll change the sheets.”

“And then you’ll join me in the shower?” I asked hopefully.

That same wavering smile crossed his face, and he nodded.

He turned away, in a hurry to leave, it seemed, and I didn’t believe the rush had anything to do with the messy bed.

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