Page 97 of For Wrath and Redemption
God, it kills me to say this, but...
“If you want me to last more than thirty seconds, I’m going to need a minute.”
She climbs off me, but her lips press to mine, and I kiss her. I welcome her tongue. I suck on her lips. I know she can taste herself. The way she’s humming into my mouth tells me she likes it. But when I try to take more, she leans away. I’m so frustrated, I growl.
“Come back here.”
“Time’s up.” Her tone is teasing, and I hear a crinkle of plastic right before she rolls a condom down my cock. Shit, even that feels good.
The bed dips again, she straddles me, then grabs my cock. Her tiny hand squeezes me, then runs the head of my dick through her wet, swollen lips. I can picture it. I know how it looks from above, but I’d kill to see it from this angle.
When she slides down my cock in one steady motion, flexing those inner muscles the moment she’s fully seated, I choke out another groan.
“Fuck, Trouble, I’m?—”
My words halt when she starts to move. She rocks back and forth, grinding her clit into my pelvis as her pussy pulses on my dick. Then she props her hands on my thighs and rides me faster.
This would be the most amazing view. I try to see through the blindfold, but I don’t even get an outline, so I close my eyes and try to imagine it. Claire with her thighs spread around me. Tits up, pussy on full display while impaled with my cock. It’s fucking erotic, but I know the vision in my head doesn’t do the real thing justice. And then she’s making these strangled, whimpering sounds.
I can’t take it. I dig my heels into the mattress and thrust up into her.
“Oh my God.” She moans the words and falls forward, digging her fingers into my chest. “Oh shit, Jonah. Oh fuck.”
“You like that, Trouble?” I grit out the words as I move faster, trying my fucking hardest not to come too soon. “Yeah, you do. You fucking love it.”
Fuck, so do I. Up and down. Up and down. My pelvis slaps into her ass, the noise like a drum beat inside my head. My cock hits her so deep that she cries out, chanting my name with every flex of my hips.
“That’s right, baby. Even with my hands tied, I can make you scream.”
When her inner walls start to quake and spasm, I quicken.
“You’re so close. Rub your clit and come on my cock, Trouble. All fucking over it.”
Just as I’m certain she’s going to detonate, she pulls off me. She’s gone. I’m stunned silent, but before I have a chance to even ask her what happened, she’s back on me.
Skin on skin. Heat on heat. Nothing between us.
She fucks me hard and fast, and I let her lead. I let her use me. I let her drive me out of my fucking mind waiting for her to squeeze my cock as she comes so I can follow behind her.
But then she pulls off me again. She sits on my pelvis, my hard, wet cock pressing up against her back. I can hear her fingers working her clit, and she whimpers and moves on top of me. I know exactly what she’s doing, and I need her to stop. I need her.
“No.” I growl. “No, Claire. Get back on my dick.”
Her wetness once again coats my skin, making it slick. This is punishment. She’s punishing me.
“Claire Davis, I swear to fucking God?—”
She lets out a low moan that I can feel in my stomach. Her body jerks, the hot, sweaty skin of her back vibrating against my erection, and she comes. Not around my cock where I want her—where Ineedher—but on her own fucking fingers.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
She laughs. I know I sound desperate. The shock and disappointment are evident in every syllable. And she laughs at me.
Her hand pats my cheek, and her lips press against mine. I open my mouth. I try to kiss her deeply, but, once again, she pulls away.
“Thank you, Mr. Hendrix. You were stunning.”
The weight of her is gone from my body. I’m panting. I’m fuming. I’m so fucking hard that I could cry.
