“Yes—fuck, yes—”
“Say it.” His tone sharpens, deep and commanding as his fingertips squeeze my thighs to keep me open. “Tell me how much you love riding my cock.”
“I love it,” I cry, the words tumbling out. “Love how hard you are, how fuckingdeepyou feel—”
“Louder.” He thrusts up into me hard, hips pistoning. “Be loud, baby. Make the snow shake off the damn roof.”
I cry out, bouncing faster and chasing the edge. One hand slips between my thighs, fingers finding my clit again to give it a light tap.
My whole body jerks. “Ohgod—”
“I love how wet that gets you,” he rasps, lightly stroking where he just slapped. “You like when I spank this pretty little clit?”
“Fuck—yes—”
“Beg for it.”
“Mason,please—”
“Please what?” he growls, his palm making a wet slapping sound against my pussy. “Tell me, sweetheart.”
“I want…” My hips jerk helplessly. “I want you to tell me I can come.Please, I need it so bad.”
“Look at you,” he pants. “Decorated in tinsel, dripping and stuffed full of cock, begging to come. Fucking stunning, Frankie.”
I whimper, trembling from the effort to wait for his command, every muscle locked tight as I writhe on him, desperate and slick and so close.
“Wanna come on my cock, baby?”
“Yes yes—please, Mason—”
He spanks my clit again, then presses down hard, fingers moving fast and filthy.
“Mmmm, fucking do it.” His breath is hot in my ear, mustache tickling my jaw. “Come for me, Frankie.”
My body snaps and I scream his name, the orgasm ripping through me—clenching and straining against my tinsel binding, everything slick and wet and overwhelming.
He fucks me through it, hips pounding up into mine as I shudder and cry out again and again, until his rhythm stutters.
“Frankie—fuuuck, baby—gonna fill you up.”
With one final thrust, he spills inside me with a long, guttural whimper. Then he collapses back into the chair, still buried deep, his arms wrapping tight around my waist.
I’m still gasping and shaking, the aftershocks rolling through me, when his hands move to bracket my hips.
“What—?”
He lifts me off him, setting me gently down in the armchair, my back against the soft cushions, arms still bound above me.
“Legs wide,” he murmurs, dropping to his knees.
I do as I’m told, my thighs falling open, utterly bare and dripping. He must like what he sees, because a strangled growl breaks from his throat.
“Look at this mess,” he says, voice still filled with hunger. “My cum leaking out of you.”
I whimper, the tinsel pulling taut. But he doesn’t rush, just kneels there, eyes locked on my pussy, his fingers reaching out to slide through the slick mess between my thighs.
“Can’t waste it,” he mutters, pushing two fingers back inside me. “Fuck, a month of voice sex and you’re better than every fantasy I’ve ever had.”
