Page 118 of Ward Willing
I lift my head, and though he’s slowed down, he still has three fingers in me. His scruff is wet, and his lips are red. The dedication in his expression has me rolling my hips against his fingers, despite telling him that another orgasm wasn’t possible.
“Give me a color,” he says, his voice gentle.
“Green,” I tell him, sniffling. “Keep going.Please.”
His resounding grin is beautiful, and when his teeth graze my sore clit, it sends a smattering of pleasure clawing down my spine. I don’t know if I want to escape or beg for more at this point.Both? Neither?My body is chasing the pleasure and my brain is begging for it all to stop. A minute later, after spreading my legs wider and running his free hand down my leg, I come apart on his tongue for the fourth time.
“Four, fuck! Four!” I scream, fully sobbing now.
My body is no longer my own, and my vision goes white as the forced orgasm sears through me. This one almost hurts. The muscles in my body are sore, and my pelvis feels like it’s been split open. Still, I whimper when he removes his fingers, already missing the sensation of being full of him.
He stands up and looks down at me with a warm expression. His hair is messy from me running my fingers through it, and his tie is askew. Somehow, watching him unravel like this is hotter than anything else. He workedsohard to make me come. It’s like he has a personal stake in my pleasure.
“Do you think you can take one more?” he asks, unzipping his dress pants and pulling out his cock.
My mouth drops open as his thumb works over the dark pink head, swirling the moisture gathered there.
“Yes,” I say, because it’s true.
He gathers some of the clear liquid onto two fingers, and then he leans forward and presses them into my mouth.
“Look at how worked up I am because of you,” he murmurs, and I groan when the salty taste of him hits my lips. I swirl my tongue around his fingers, and his heady groan sends a flash of need through me. “That’s it. Fuck, you’re perfect.”
I respond by popping my mouth off his fingers and scooting back. His gaze dips down between my legs, and I spread them open for him.
“Fuuuuck, Zoe. I love it when you show me what’s mine, little rebel.”
The possession in his words only makes me wetter, and before I can react, he grabs my ankles and flips me onto my stomach. I steady my hands and knees, feeling vulnerable to be so exposed to him. But he runs a hand over my ass and comes up right behind me, knocking my knees apart slightly. He groans again, and like before, the sound is so low that it’s barely audible.
Without saying anything, the head of his cock pushes into my overused pussy, and a hiss of pain escapes my lips when he moves into me inch by inch. His hand comes to my hair, and he gently fists it and tugs me back so my spine is arched.
“Fuck, this is my favorite view,” he murmurs, slowly filling and stretching me.
When he’s all the way inside of me, I let out a shaky breath. “Harder,” I beg.
He pulls me up so that I’m upright on my knees, and his body is pressed against my back. “Very well. Hold onto the headboard.”
I reach forward until my hands are gripping the wood, and he pulls out slowly before slamming into me.
I’m glad to be holding on, because he begins to fuck me relentlessly. He’s fucking into me so hard, and I’m worried he’s going to break the bed. I scream as more tears slide down my cheeks, because it feelsso fucking good,and my aching body coils and tightens. Liam runs his hands over my body, my waist, my hips, before coming around to my breasts as he drives into me. His mouth finds my shoulder, and he bites, causing my pussy to clench around him.
His resounding groan makes me do it again, and that’s when his hand comes around to my jaw, gripping it tightly.
“Such a brat,” he growls, his voice a low purr.
“Your brat,” I tell him, whimpering as he thrusts up and into me.
I rock backward, seeking the friction that I need, before both of his hands grip my hips and hold me still.
“Yes you fucking are,” he says. “Mine. Always.”
The reverential way he says that has me moaning, and each snap of his hips has me careening toward my fifth climax. I roll my hips and move against him as his movements slow, his fingers that had been gripping my flesh loosening. I take that as a sign that he’s letting me lead, so I ride his cock until he’s groaning with each push back of my hips. The sound of my wetness and our skin slapping against each other mixes with his low vibrations and my breathy noises, and for a minute, that’s all I hear. My fingers curl around the wood as my climax gets closer, and I let one of my hands drift down to my clit, using our wetness as lube to rub small circles despite being swollen and sore.
After one particularly hard thrust backward, his hands fly to my waist and hold me still.
“I’m close,” he whispers.
“I want to feel you come,” I tell him, moaning.
