Page 64 of Filthy Business
She moaned—desperate, needy, grinding back for more.
I rubbed slow, tight circles over her clit, just enough to make her legs tremble. Just enough to drive her insane.
“You want to come, don’t you? You want to gush all over my hand while I stretch your sweet little arse open.”
She nodded into the lounger, fingers clawing at the towel. Pathetic little noises caught in her throat.
“Not yet,” I growled.“You’ll fucking take what I give you, when I give it. You think I don’t know what this filthy body needs? You think I don’t see the way your greedy cunt begs for cock—leaking like it knows it’s nothing but a hole to be bred and used?”
I slapped her cunt, just once. Sharp. She gasped.
“Imagine it, Iris. You, all round and milky. Tits heavy and leaking. Belly so fat with my child you can’t sit up without help. But I’ll still be bending you over, filling every hole while you whimper and drip.”
I slipped two fingers into her cunt—easily, slick and hot as hell—while my cock stayed wedged tight in her arse.
“Fucking soaked. You love this. You fucking love being ruined.”
She was close. So close I could feel her walls fluttering around my fingers, her thighs quaking.
But I pulled my hand away.
“Ah-ah. You don’t come until I say.”
She whimpered, hips twitching. Desperate little mess.
I leaned forward, voice like a snarl in her ear.
“I promised you a sore little arse, Iris. And you know Daddy keeps all of his promises.”
Then I pulled out almost to the tip and slammed back in—brutal, slippery, merciless. The oil and lube made everything obscene. No resistance. Just filthy, wet sounds and the slap of skin against skin.
I gripped her hips, drove into her harder.
“You’ll feel this tomorrow. Every step you take. Every time you sit. You’ll remember who made this hole his.”
She cried out—half pleasure, half incoherent wreckage—as I fucked her into the lounger, railing her with every ounce of control I had left unraveling.
“Come now, Iris,” I growled.“Soak for me. Let your filthy cunt gush while I fill your arse.”
And when she shattered, I followed—grinding deep as I emptied myself into her tight, fucked-out hole. I grunted like a beast as my come continued to spill inside her clenching arsehole.
Fuck.
Thank God she came to me.
“I love being kidnapped,” she gasped.
I couldn’t stop the chuckle, even though it felt as if my soul had left my body.
I didn’t pull out.
Not yet. Not when she was trembling so beautifully under me, breath catching on every soft exhale. Her body slack, wrecked and dripping with my spend, just the way I liked her. Just the way I’d always want her.
Still buried deep in her arse, I wrapped an arm around her waist and slowly eased us onto our sides on the lounger. Her back pressed to my chest, my cock still locked inside her stretched, used hole. I held her close, keeping her full.
“You were fucking perfect,” I whispered against her temple, brushing sweaty hair off her flushed face.“You took it like it was yours. Because it is, Iris. Every inch of me. Every filthy thought in my head. Yours.”
She whimpered softly, eyes still dazed and heavy-lidded. I kissed her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her lips. Over and over.
