Page 69 of Stutter

I coo, opening my mouth to lick the taste of him from his neck, swirling my tongue, which earns me another buck of his cock diving into me.

Ohhhh…

I unwillingly contract around his hard, thick length, and he hisses. I’m so tempted to fuck. To just rise on my knees and let myself fall over and over again but he grabs my hip and bares down again, keeping me in place. I let myself rest against him again, but I can’t help when I squeeze around him. It’s instinctive. Another page, another pump, I’m going crazy.

“Please…” I beg.

“You know I’ll give you what you ask for when I see fit, Siren. Be good. What did I say?”

“Only you… c-clip m-my w-wings.”

He hums in satisfaction, reading silently to himself, and I melt into him further. I should be studying right now. Learning how to cook something other than frozen pizza, learning a new language (ha) but when he bucks into me and sets his book down, I forget all about what I was thinking I should be doing, and feel perfect where I am.

I pull back slightly, away from his embrace, clenching when I feel him pulse and peer at my handsome devil, hair tousled, green eyes darkened behind his glasses, waiting for his command.

Where I was made to worship Jonas and made to be loved and worshipped by Damon, I was made to serve Maverick.

He unbinds my hands, the sweet relief of having my shoulders relax fully makes me moan. He tucks his hands under my thighs and in one swift movement, I’m on my back on the coffee table. Taking my hands again, he ties my wrists behind my knees and then withdraws from me.

“Such a beautiful fucking sight every time. Like my own gift.” He whispers into the empty room.

I cry out when I feel his tongue lick me from hole to clit, sucking my lower lips into his mouth and cry out again when he roughly shoves two thick fingers into me, turning to hook, and his tongue lands on my sensitive flesh, feverishly licking. I’m shaking, the heat running through my veins settling in my womb and so fucking ready to erupt when he pulls away and I cry out again, ready to beg for more.

“I’ve had to fuck my fist to memories of you these last few days while this tiny pussy rested, Siren. I’m going to take my time. Look at how gorgeous you are, clenching around nothing but air, seeking me. Such a filthy little angel, aren’t you, so fucking greedy for more cum. Did you not have enough?”

“No!” I answer honestly because they’ve done this to me – turned me into a wanton slut, always in heat. When he plunges his digits back inside, only to pull out again and slap at my clit, I can’t help but yelp. “Maverick!”

“That’s right. You call outmyname when I’m ruining your wings. Look at yourself.”

I do. I turn to face the full-length mirror Jonas had installed in every room and I look so fucking vulnerable. Knees to my chest, hands bound, hair splayed over the coffee table I’m not sure can actually bare my weight, my inked devil looming over me, stroking his dick as his wicked glare clashes with mine. Sexy. Powerful. Beastly. Drops of sweat accumulate and run down his bare chest and I salivate, wanting to lick up every drop.

He lines the tip of himself to my dripping sex and in one powerful thrust, I watch our reflections join as one, as his muscles ripple. He snarls and I scream.

“Take”thrust“every fat”thrust“fucking”thrust“inch.”

I feel alive, every nerve ending electrified and begging for more. More slaps to my clit, the backs of my thighs, just more. And I plead for it. One orgasm runs through into another when he thumbs my clit, pressing down on it, all words out of his mouth nothing but degradation and praise, my arousal so thick and creamy I can see it dripping down to his heavy balls in the reflection and I go mute with every orgasm, only to cry out for more.

“This is my pussy. When I am inside you, you belong to me. Don’t you?”

“Yes!” I scream. Where’s my stutter now?

“So call out my name, so I can fill you up.”

“Maverick!”

“Again.” He demands, thrusting so violently the coffee table shakes beneath me.

“Maverick!”

Pounding harder in short, deep strokes, my voice goes hoarse crying out for him and in one, loud masculine groan he curses me, every thrum of his dick unloading into me. When he withdraws, he kneels, inspecting the mess he’s made. Whatever pools out, he pushes back in, keeping me full.

“My messy girl.” He says with pride.

The coffee table breaks as the front door opens and Damon walks in. “What the fuck happened?”

I burst out in giggles, even tied up and on top of a broken table, I feel… I feelfree.

It’s when Jonas steps in behind Damon in absolute confusion and his brows draw up in concern that Maverick unties me and helps me up on wobbly legs.

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