Page 45 of Executing Malice
“Fuck!” I groan as the wild ride of raw pleasure curls my toes in my slippers.
“I need to fuck you,” he groans through gritted teeth.
“Yes. Please...” I choke out and feel his fingers tighten around my hips.
I feel his restraint. The need coursing down his arms.
“Not yet,” he grinds out at last.
He slides forward a hair, just enough to sink the first ridge of steel and my entire body jolts. The piercing kisses mine, sending sparks behind my eyes.
“Fuck...” I gasp, forehead pressed into the cool table. “Please...”
He shifts his grip. One hand slides up my spine to fist in my braid. I’m forcibly dragged back, made to arch and grind into the table corner while he stretches me. While he pulses and twitches...
“I said, not yet,” he growls, voice serrated with restraint. Every word burns against the shell of my ear as my head is dragged back. “But keep begging. You do it so prettily.”
The tip of him nudges deeper still as his hips rut with shallow, grinding strokes. It’s not enough to push me over, but it still feels so good. So maddeningly torturous.
I sob and push back with my hips.
“Tell me you want me to breed your cunt and I’ll let you take every inch like your messy pussy wants,” he taunts. “I’ll bend you over this table and fuck you until you can’t walk.”
The promise is so tempting. So perfect. My body almost forgets why we’re resisting.
It’s made harder when his free hand slips beneath my top to cradle my breast.
“Fuck, I love your tits. I can’t wait to milk them.” He palms and squeezes the mound like he’s milking me. “You’re going to feed our baby, then you’re going to feed me while I fuck another baby inside you.”
Without permission, my arm hooks back around his neck, arching my spine. Pressing my breast harder into his palm. My hips bump and roll, grinding into the table while grinding on him.
“That’s it. Ride my cock. Get yourself off. I want to feel your hole suck my head and take my cum.”
I want that, too.
I want more of him spilling out of me to soak my panties. He’s been drizzling out all morning and I’ve been so aroused, barely stopping myself from reaching beneath my skirt and fingering it all back in.
“I want more,” I tell him, pushing back to take what I want. “Deeper.”
The hand on my breast drifts up through the collar of my sweater to chain around my throat. His hip pumps in another inch and I hiss as his piercings drag over mine.
“That’s all your greedy cunt gets. Now, cum so I can lubricate your slippery hole for your surprise.”
I let my head fall back against his shoulder. My eyes close. I work the corner and his cock with hurried rolls, building the fire.
But that’s not enough for him when he tucks his free hand between me and the hard surface and matches my pumps with his fingers on my tender clit.
“Yes...” I whimper, pressing down into his palm. “God, don’t stop.”
Without warning, I’m shoved down on the table and he’s bucking and fingering me fast and hard.
“What did I tell you about moaning another man’s name?”
I can’t answer as I cum. As he forces me over.
Again.
And again.
