Page 115 of Show Me How
Our tongues slide together, the kiss turning desperate. He sucks on mine, and I pop my eyes open in warning when my knees start to shake.
“Need to get off before I take more,” I murmur into his mouth, chasing the taste of him.
His hold on me tightens instantly, refusing to let me, regardless of my lack of trying. “Another inch. Just one. Slowly.”
My thighs ache worse as I lower myself what I hope is an inch. But it’s not enough. The stretch feels too good for us to stop like this. I have to bite my cheek to keep from crying out in frustration.
“Tell me you can take it.”
His voice is rougher than I’ve ever heard it as his breath fans my face. I don’t hesitate to answer.
“I can take it.”
There’s no more burn in my thighs when he thrusts up, driving the rest of his length inside of me. I collapse onto his lap, our bodies flush now as I stare at the ceiling, unsure of when my head fell back. The fullness is sharp, almost too much.
“Jesus Christ,” he hisses, guiding my hips forward and adjusting the angle. “Set the pace before I do.”
“How do I do this?”
His throat works through a swallow as he moves me again, bringing our middles together and then away in slow, fluid motions. I take over after a few seconds, keeping the same pace. His piercings press against my walls, intensifying the pleasure that’s filling me before I push closer, and the one through the tip?—
“Shade!” I cry, my jaw slack.
He thrusts up again, deeper this time. The angle steals the breath from my lungs, and I gasp when he drags along that same spot inside of me. I cling onto his shoulders for some semblance of balance before I topple over.
“Take it, Millie. Nice and deep just like that. Feel it in your belly. Right here,” he spits, pressing a palm to my lower stomach. “You wanted it, and it’s yours now.”
My ears fill with his filthy words, shooting straight to where I’m clenching around him like I’m trying to keep him buriedinside of me for the next fifty years. I rock against his thrusts, meeting them eagerly while an endless chant of moans and pleas spills from my lips.
“It wasn’t enough you got to mark my body. You needed your claws deeper. Greedy princess,” he breathes out, smashing our chests together. His lips part over my cheek and then my mouth, resting there. “Where do I get to mark you?”
He knows the answer already. We both do.
I tighten around him, my entire body starting to shake from exertion. My release is imminent, but there’s something primal inside of me that demands we get there together. I don’t have the strength to fight that pull.
“Inside.”
“Inside where?” he rasps, moving faster beneath me.
I curl my fingers in his hair, pulling harder than I should as I struggle to hold on. “Of me.”
“Inside your wet, perfect pussy,” he corrects me, licking my lips.
Falling against him, I let go. I’m still holding on to his hair, and his head tilts as I come, getting pulled with me. My teeth sink into his shoulder, leaving indents. I squeeze his shaft, pulsing with every shake of my body.
His following groans are loud enough to pierce through the white noise in my ears, letting me hear the way he falls apart beneath me. Heat floods my core, flames warring against flames as he jerks and holds me tighter than I’ve ever been held before.
“Good girl, princess. Good girl letting me fill you up like this,” he praises, continuing to move inside of me with shallow, soft thrusts. “Stay right where you are.”
I nod, unwilling to move anyway. Moments pass before he stills, and I’ve caught my breath enough to speak, guilt baring its teeth at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asks, sounding offended, his muscles growing rigid.
“That wasn’t just the tip.”
His laugh explodes from his chest. It’s a warm sound, yet unexpected. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”
