Page 42 of Light As A Feather
“Look at how your pussy talks to me,” Hawthorne groans as he shifts to the edge of the couch. “Fuck, I think this is my new favorite thing to watch, you playing with this pretty pussy just for me.”
My hips swivel as I chase more fullness, more pressure, more everything that I desperately need from him. The sounds become more obscene as fuck into myself with zero restraint, as my other hand clutches at the coffee table.
“Are you ready for me?” His palm rubs along my spine.
“Y-yes. I’m ready,” I say between panting breaths. I thrum with excitement as he slides down behind me and pulls my hips back.
“My turn, Nightingale.” Gripping my wrist, he pulls my fingers out before guiding my body into a sitting position and lining me up over his hard dick. Holding the base, he waits for me to lower myself down onto him.
Taking the head, I moan at how much better this feels than my fingers. Arching my back, I force myself to go slow, prolonging the feel of the veiny ridge hitting me just right.
“Fuck, you take me so beautifully. I have half a mind to just keep you here, so snug and warm, around me.”
“Thorne,” I beg for mercy, and more arousal leaks down my thighs.
“Say it again,” he says as he bites into my shoulder.
“Thorne. Make me come, please,” I ask, feeling like a pathetic mess as I grip the table for support, as I restrain myself from grinding on his lap.
“That’s it. All you have to do is ask like the beautifully desperate little thing that you are. Of course I’ll give you what you need.” One hand splays across my stomach, those tattooed eyes getting a front-row view of him teasing my clit, while the other hand encircles my throat, his thumb hooking in my mouth. “But I’m not going nice and soft. I need to hear you scream my name as you come on uncontrollably on my dick. I want you to let go, lose control, show me that you trust me to protect you when you’re invoking my name for everyone to hear who exactly you belong to.”
Spreading my thighs farther apart, I relax against him, relinquishing control as I take the last inch of him. “Yes. Whatever you say, Mr. Addams,” I say before gently sinking my teeth into the inked bone that runs along the top of his thumb. A shudder rolls through him, and then he’s tightening his fingers around my neck.
“That’s a good start.” He strokes along my tattoo before he angles his hips up for a brutal thrust that nearly makes me fall forward. “You better hold onto something.” It’s the only warning I get before he shifts into position and starts thrusting into me relentlessly.
“Yes, Thorne, don’t stop.” Grabbing onto the coffee table, I take each rewarding snap of his hips. The cum on my chest makes a mess of the rich wood as the collective force of our bodies pushes it forward, my slick fingers losing their grip ashe fucks into me, but before I can fall, he pulls me back against him and kicks it out of the way while still pumping into me.Fucking hell, I forgot how strong he is.That slim, athletic build is deceiving.
“Come on, baby. Tell them. Whose pussy is this?” Guiding me forward onto my hands and knees until I’m flat on the floor, Hawthorne lies over me and slides himself in and out with slower, but no less punishing strokes that tease then spear me over and over again.
“Yours. Yours. Yours,” I chant while I take each thrust.
“That’s right baby, invoke me.” He slides a hand under my stomach, angling my hips up.
“Fuck, Hawthorne,” I whine. “You’re so deep, I can feel you everywhere.” His hip bones pound against my ass with each deep stroke that has my thighs shaking. I’m so close.
“Turn over, let me see those eyes roll back as I steal this orgasm from you.”
Noticing his cum has largely been wiped clean from our fucking, he slows his hips. “That just won’t do.” Reaching for one of the white taper candles on the side table, he tilts it, dripping burning hot wax over my peaked nipples one after the other.
The moan that escapes me is nothing short of wanton as the burn sharpens, then fizzles out as it hardens on my sensitive flesh.
“Can you handle it, Nightingale?”
“Yes, don’t stop.” I clench around him, aching for more.
He doesn’t hesitate, tipping the candle and hovering it over my skin. Letting it drop onto my skin in sensuously slow motions.
“Spell it out for me.” He takes his time moving it up and down.
“T…H,” we say together. “O…”
“R,” I gasp, trembling with each hot pour across my skin.
“N,” he groans, burying himself impossibly deeper inside me.
“E,” we moan together. The last of the wax hardens on my skin.
“There we go, much better.” Hawthorne stills above me as he stares down at my chest in admiration. “You look so good with my name across your tits. A fucking work of art if I’ve ever seen one.” Returning the candle to its brass holder, he resumes his thrusting, then takes my knee, shoving it upward as he uses it as leverage to stuff me with his cock over and over again until I can’t tell where he ends and I start.
