Page 35 of Snow Bound

“You bastard,” she choked out.

The gleam in his eyes brightened with sadistic glee. “Now, that’s not very nice.”

The silky tone was a clear warning, but she didn’t care. He’d gotten her so close, close enough to feel the beginning flutters and pulses of orgasmic pleasure, then he’d stopped. Like a bastard. “You’re going to leave me hanging and you want me to be nice to you?”

“I believe I made my expectations very clear,” he reminded her, calm as a moonlit lake.

He had, but…

His lips twitched. “Thought I’d forget about it, didn’t you?”

Or change his mind, but she wasn’t so far gone she’d say that out loud.

“Your pussy is good, but it’s not induce-amnesia-good,” he said bluntly. “You want to come, you know what you have to do.”

She wanted to shout that it’d be a cold day in hell before she begged him for anything, but before she could get the words out he brushed his thumb across her clit.

He did it so softly that if she hadn’t been so worked up she might not even have felt it. But she was so swollen and sensitized that the gentle, whispering touch was like a jolt from a cattle prod.

Her whimper made his smile go feral. “I’m waiting.”

She was torn. Her body was urging her to beg, plead, cajole, whatever it took to bring an end to the torture. She needed to come, needed it like blood, like breath. Every cell in her body trembled, aching for the release that lay just out of reach. He’d give it to her, she knew, if she could just say the words. But her mind just wouldn’t let them out.

And he knew.

“Poor baby,” he murmured, his eyes softening with pity. “Is it that hard?”

“Yes,” she choked out, near tears with frustration and need.

“Shhh,” he crooned, soothing with his voice even as his thumb circled her clit, pleasuring and torturing her in equal measure.

“I can’t.” She was near sobbing now, her hands curled in fists over her head. She wanted so badly to reach down and finish it, but he’d never let her. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he said softly, encouragingly, while his thumb circled and stroked, light as a feather, tortuous as a spike. “It’s just one word, Anna. One word, and you can come.”

Her chest was heaving, tits shaking with her ragged breaths. “You promise?”

His eyes went fierce. “I promise. Just one little word.”

She swallowed, her eyes locked on his with the desperation of a drowning woman, and forced the word from her trembling lips. “Please.”

It was whisper soft, barely audible, but triumph lit his eyes. His hips moved, shoving himself deep inside her, and the pressure of his thumb on her clit increased. “Again.”

“Please,” she said again, this time on a groan. He was so hard inside her, so thick, and his thumb on her clit was gloriously firm. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, fucking her harder, plucking her clit with his fingers. The tension was coiling again, faster than before, her body racing, chasing the high of orgasm. “Please what, Anna?”

“Please, fuck me,” she said, the words tumbling out so quickly they were nearly unintelligible. “Please make me come.”

“Why, Anna?” He was hammering into her now, pounding hard, pushing her. “Why do you want to come?”

“Because I’m a slut.” She wailed it, all but screamed it. “I’m a slut.”

“Yeah, you are.” He came down on top of her, hips pumping and grinding. He propped one elbow on the mattress, grabbed her breast with his free hand and squeezed. “Come on, slut. Come on my fucking cock.”

And she did.

The world exploded, and she with it. Spasms of incredible pleasure wracked her body, going on so long that her vision dimmed and her blood roared in her ears. He fucked her through it, powering through the rhythmic clasp of her pussy. He growled against her breast, growing even bigger and harder inside her. It set her off again, had her sobbing at the near agonizing pleasure. Then he was grunting and growling, hips continuing to pump while his cock jerked and pulsed inside her.

---