They’re tighter than they were before, leather biting into my skin in a way that’s not unwelcome.
Ezra’s tight, black t-shirt strains over his muscles as he leans over me, brushing a strand of hair back from my face. “I can’t wait to see those full lips wrapped around my cock either.”
“I thought you were going to kill me.”
“Probably.” He smirks.
As he straightens up, his gaze drags down my naked body like he’s taking in his favorite painting.
My body comes to life as he brushes a thumb over my nipple, stiffening it into a peak.
I bite down on a moan as he does the same to the other one.
His touch drifts back and forth between the two, massaging and teasing until my inner thighs are slick, and my pussy is throbbing.
This is an entirely new kind of torture.
He smirks. “Look at you. Dripping. Aching. You want me, and you hate it, don’t you?”
“I’m going to cut off your cock.”
The corner of his mouth tips into a crooked smile, but there’s still something dark in his eyes.
His fingers sink between my legs, swirling around my clit.
I stay as still as possible, gritting my teeth against the urge to grind against him. I don’t want to give into him.
Am I not supposed to be getting him to trust me?
And one little orgasm won’t hurt. Not when I’ve been stressed and could use a little tension relief.
Ezra slides his fingers into my pussy, crooking them against my inner walls. He rocks them deeper before pulling out completely and licking his fingers clean.
With the way his tongue wraps around his fingers, I know he’d be good at eating me out. I could ride his face and know that it’s not going to be for nothing. He’s not going to come and run before I even get mine.
And maybe that’s an insane thing to think about a stalker, but the idea is there.
Ezra smirks. “I knew you’d taste like sin.”
His hand returns to the apex between my thighs, slapping hard against my clit.
I can’t hold back the moan that slips out, aching for more.
With a smirk, he repeats it, heat flashing in his eyes. “Oh, so you are a little slut just like those pictures led me to believe you were. Do you know how long I’ve spent fucking my fist to the thought of you coming for me?”
His fingers sink into me again, but this time he takes his time. It’s like he’s trying to memorize every inch of my pussy as he plunges deeper in, twisting and rocking his fingers, his thumb pressing against my clit with each thrust.
“You’re going to come for me, and then we can talk about what’s going to happen with you.” He pulls his fingers out before slamming them harder back in.
I let out a loud moan, back arching off the table even though my wrists and ankles are still strapped down.
Against my better judgment, I roll my hips, grinding into his touch. I need more of it.
He knows exactly how to work my body. He knows how to reach that spot that keeps me rocking, his thumb pressing harder against my clit before he pulls out entirely and slaps it again.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve watched you fuck yourself.” His voice rasps as he sets a pace with his fingers that has me nearing the edge. “I used to jerk off watching you. I’d think of your hand being wrapped around me, squeezing tight while you begged for me to come on you.”
I let out a whimper, tension building higher and higher.
