Page 127 of Babies for the Big Shot
“Please,” I gasp, eyes wild. “Nick, please. I need you… need to feel you. I’m so wet, I can’t…”
“You’re dripping,” he growls, sliding one finger between my thighs to prove his point. “Look at this. Look what you did to my mouth. Look what you’re doing to my cock.”
Then he thrusts.
Hard. Deep. All the way in.
I scream, an unfiltered, raw sound that barely resembles my voice.
“Fuck,” he snarls. “That’s it.”
He pounds into me with a rhythm that borders on feral. Each stroke hitsdeep, perfectly angled to make me see stars.
My bound arms press against the back of the chaise. My body is arched, helpless, at his mercy, and it is the most intoxicating thing I’ve ever felt.
He grabs my thigh, presses it higher on his hip. Opens me even more. Possesses me.
“Yours,” I breathe, barely coherent. “I’m yours.”
His eyes flash.
He snaps his hips forward and stills, buried deep, throbbing, pulsing, and growls, “Say it again.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours, Nick!”
He fucks me with fierce possession, carving the truth into my skin. He leans in, bites my lip, swallowing every moan as if they all belong to him.
When he pulls out, I cry out, but he just flips me.
Face down on the chaise, ass up, wrists still bound. My heart’s beating loud as a war drum. My body is wrecked and humming and still begging for more.
He spreads me with both hands, dragging his fingers along the swollen folds he’s already ruined.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Red and swollen. So fucking wet.”
He spanks me once, light, sharp, just enough to make me moan, and then slides back in, burying himself to the hilt from behind.
This time, it’s slower. He rocks into me with controlled dominance, one hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip as if he’ll die if he lets go.
I push back to meet each thrust. Moaning. Begging. Filthy and feral.
“Nick, fuck, I can’t…”
“Yes, you can,” he growls into my ear, slamming into me. “You’re gonna come again. You’re gonna come just like this, tied and fucked and mine.”
And God help me, I do.
I come again, shaking and sobbing, my legs buckling beneath me as pleasure detonates through my body. He fucks me through it, relentless, merciless, praising me in that broken, reverent voice.
“Good girl. Take it. That’s my girl.”
My body goes slack, useless with bliss. He unties my wrists and catches me as I collapse, pulling me into his arms.
But he doesn’t give me time to recover.
