Page 13 of PortCity Killers

My fingers danced across my clit; the slick sound obscene in the sounds of the city below us. I circled, bucking into my hand as I moved faster and faster. I think Bryce was just as impatient to be inside of me as I was for him; otherwise, he might have slapped my hand away and done it himself, keeping a slow and steady pace.

I pressed harder, allowing the thought of his hands stroking me to spur my frenzy.

Bryce watched me, his breathing labored, “Slow it down.”

I shook my head, lifting myself up off of him just enough to reach better when he gripped the back of my neck.

“I said slow down.”

When his fingers clamped down on me, I mewled, desperate and wanton, but I didn’t slow my movements. I was too lost in the building warmth, the electricity of his hands on me when I was so close. His other free hand gripped mine, yanking it away from between my thighs.

“If you want that cunt to ever come again, you’ll do as you're told.” He looked at me hard, his gaze peering through my soul, “Do you understand me? You know the rules. Apologize.”

I whimpered, my hand twisting away from him but he gripped me harder. His strength stopped me from wiggling off of him, his hand on the back of my neck tightening.

“Say it,” he repeated, “Say, ‘Daddy, I’m sorry for being such a filthy little whore that I couldn’t follow simple directions.”

“No.”

“Then no coming,” He let go of me leaning back to tuck himself back in, but his movements were slow as he watched me: waiting for me.

“I’m sorry, daddy.” I mumbled, my face heating up.

He lifted a brow, eyes boring into mine, causing my already red cheeks to burn, “Properly.”

I bit my lip, legs jiggling on either side of his. All I wanted was for his dick to be inside me, his lips on mine.

He watched me squirm under his gaze, penetrating with each word, “Say, ‘Daddy-”

“Daddy, I’m sorry for being such a filthy whore I couldn’t follow directions.”

“Simpledirections.”

“Simple directions,” I grumbled.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I glared at him, his smile turning deviantly brilliant. “If looks could kill, baby girl, I’d be a dead man. Come here.”

I settled again as he leant back, his hands on my waist.

He gripped my hips, pulling me close as he lifted his cock, between us, “Kiss me.”

I brushed my lips softly against his, trying my damnedest not to consume every inch of him as he slid the head of his cock between my folds. His mouth devoured mine, drowning out the whimper that escaped me as he slowly impaled me with his thick length.

My moan was eaten up by the rumble that worked its way up his chest as he was enveloped by my heat. His movements were slow, purposeful. He’d always said the first thrust into me was the sweetest with how slick and wet I was.

My hands gripped the sides of his neck as my shoulders bunched, the kiss taking on a life of its own. Each thrust was punctuated by a little nip on my lips, harder and harder until my lips were stinging as he slid his tongue against mine.

I tasted the cool metal of his tongue ring against my lips as it went deeper, penetrating into my mouth. There was something about the way the barbell slid across my tongue that made me shudder every time. I lifted my hips, his hands pulling me back down hard.

My head fell back. Bryce licked and nipped at my neck as I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, using his body as leverage to gain momentum. My moans came faster and louder until he had a hand wrapped around my mouth, the other cupping the back of my head.

“You gotta keep that filthy little mouth quiet, baby.”

I whimpered, my movements slowing, unable to keep the pace I knew would bring me to that perfect little death.

“Move faster,” Bryce demanded, his tone sharp as his hips bucked into mine. “Fucking faster, baby, you can do it.”

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