Page 28 of Pink Poison

Oh, God.

“I-I’m going to come,” I pant breathlessly.

His movements slow, pulling me away from the edge that I desperately want to jump from. “Did I say you could come yet?”

Gritting my teeth, I push my hands from the toilet seat. If he won’t make me come, I’ll do it myself. “Let. Me. Come.”

My head snaps uncomfortably as his fingers tangle in my hair, yanking the strands from the root. “I told you I wanted you toscreammy name,” he growls. Driving his length forward, he reaches a resistance.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.A shock of discomfort has me pulling away, but his punishing hold holds no remorse as he continues rutting against my cervix. “God, you feel so good like this. Your perfect pussy is taking my fat cock so fucking deep.”

Arousal trickles down the inside of my thighs against my will.I can’t hold back anymore.“Shawn!” I cry, giving into his demands to hear me scream. His pace quickens, drawing a chant from my lips. “Shawn. Shawn. Shawn.”

“That’s it, doll,” he groans. “Come for me—soak my cock.” Pleasure consumes me after being edged so hard all night. Arousal gushes between us as he slams into me, lost in chasing his ecstasy. Mumbling incoherently, my weight buckles beneath me as my head goes light from the rush of endorphins. “Stevie,” he pants, sounding further away than he feels. “I can’t stop.”

“Don’t s-stop.” My words slur, drunk on the high that my body is currently thriving on. “Please don’t s-stop.”

“Keep squeezing me. Oh,fuck—that's it, doll. Milk my cock.”

Jerking forward, his thick shaft pulses with his hot release. “Oh my God,” I moan as another wave of pleasure crashes over me.

Seconds pass quickly, easily turning to minutes. Minutes where his cock sits, holding his cumdeepinside of me. As much as I hate to admit it, it’s kind of hot. Okay, there’s no kind of about it. Itishot. “Not sure God had anything to do with that,” he huffs, slowly pulling himself from my soakedcore. “Fuck, but he might have had something to do with this gorgeous, swollen cunt.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I find myself somehow surprised that the man who just fucked me like a whore is staring in awe between my legs. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I snort.

His inklike eyes snap to mine with a heat that makes me think he wants to go another round. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

My eyes widen at his honesty, then between hating that I want him to take the picture and loving the fact that he will be getting off to me again. Before I can mutter a rebuttal, his fingers slip through my folds and spread them open. A bright flash blinks, bringing colored spots to temporarily obscure my vision.

“Did you just…” I gawk.

“I did.” He laughs. “It’s not as good as the real thing, but it’ll hold me over until I can sink my cock back into you.”

“What makes you think you get a repeat performance,Shawn?”I snark.

The sound of rustling fabric fills the silence that follows my question. Rolling my eyes, I reach down for my thong, ready to move on from whatever the fuck this just was. “Let me, doll,” he rasps, dragging the soiled garment further down my legs. “Lift your feet.”

I lift one foot at a time, stepping out of the garment before turning around. Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I situate my dress to cover my bare lower half. “Taking another souvenir?”

A devilish smile ticks at his mouth as he pockets the pink fabric inside his cut. “I need something to jerk my dick with when I look at the picture.”

“I regret asking.” I push him away from the stall door.

“Stevie,” he breathes, “I don’t chase.”

Smiling, I strut from the stall towards the bathroom door. “Then why did you chase me?”

“Blondie,” a low voice whispers as I walk through the bathroom door.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, revealing the cute blond with charming, dark blue eyes who stood next to the table while Max buried his fingers in me. “Cutie.” I smile, wiggling my fingers at the man.

He grins, boyish and charming. If I didn't know who he was with, I'd think he was cuter. “You’re not very quiet when you’re being pleasured, ya know.”

With a shrug, I walk past him in favor of the bar. “Why should I be quiet when it feelsgood?”

“Don’t say that too loud.” He laughs. “You’ll give Stone a complex.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I wink. “I’d say he earned it.”

His gravelly laugh fades as I approach the bar, where the bartender from earlier moves easily to each customer. She refills drinks and makes casual conversation flawlessly, naturally, even. Honestly, it doesn’t even look like she’s paying attention. It’s almost like she is on autopilot. Finding an empty stool away from the busy side of the bar, I slide over the cushioned fabric.

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