Page 23 of Freaks Of Nature
My extended tongue swirls the barbell seated at his base and somehow Idomanage to overcome the crude intrusion.
A wave of pride chases through me at that.
“Fuck yes! Play with it,” Ash’s strained voice urges. I know he’s close. His motion grows fervorous as his breaths come in shorter, quicker grunts.
And then he arches off the bed.
Ash spills into me with a gush down my throat. I swallow, greedily, my hands squeezing his thighs to take in all the strength he has to offer.
“Fuck, baby girl.” Ash fans his fingers through my hair. “I’llbe the one thinking about this all day tomorrow.Andthe next day,” he tags on with a little snort.
I withdraw my lips from around his cock.
“Strip,” he says in words as much as with his eyes. “I want you naked against me.”
I push to my feet, and start with my jeans, taking everything off slowly like I’m putting on a show for him.
Ash drinks in every move. He unlaces his half boots without looking down, and toes them off before scooting further back onto the mattress.
“Turn around,” he tells me when I crawl up to him. “I want your ass grinding on me.”
I stretch out over his chest, my head beside his, resting on his shoulder.
“Spread your legs for me, baby girl.”
I lift my feet, and set them down on either side of him, baring myself toward the door which is still open to the hallway.
“Raise your arms.”
I comply, giving him better access to rove my front.
Ash’s palms stroke my breasts, rolling my nipples into even harder pebbles. My right hand in his hair, I tip my head back and arch off him, my ass grinding on top of him.
“That’s it, baby girl. Just like that,” he coaches me.
Goosebumps prickle my skin. Eyes toward the window behind us, I focus on his touch.
His dominant hand skates lower. His fingertips brush the crest of my pubic bone, then curve over.
Ash cradles me in his palm, fingers sliding through my slick folds.
I’m so fucking wet.
He acknowledges the same with a groan that sends shivers down my spine. I can feel him getting hard again.
The grind turns rough. His left hand shifts to my right breast, his arm of steel wrapping around my ribs and pinning me to his chest.
“Come for me, baby girl,” he huffs, his breaths as ragged as mine.
His stroking grows even harsher. I ride his hand without shame, giving myself over to the impending climax.
The tremors take over. They’re coming at me in waves, faster and faster when I hear the creak from the door.
My head snaps up and my eyes land on the tall, dark figure stepping into the room… his combat boots… his black hoodie…
Blood drains from my face with a cool tingle across my scalp. A gloved hand lowers his hood, and I get a full view of the mask.
No! No, this can’t be happening.
