“You’re lucky I like being called a slut,” she breathes out, shifting her hips forward, changing the angle when she bottoms out.
“You may have been gone, Tilly, but I know you down to the little strings that make up your soul. We both know you’ve always liked it rough. We’re too similar.”
She laughs breathlessly but winds up finishing with a moan. I palm her back and keep a steady hold on her nape, letting her hair keep my fingers tangled in place.
Her pussy flutters around my me as she starts to move back and forth, taking it deep, then shallow. “Rough to you isn’t the same as it is to others.”
“What’s it to you?”
“This.” Her hand closes around the one I’ve got on her neck. She closes her fingers around mine and pulls, forcing me to pull on her hair.
I choke on a low groan when she releases her hair and drags my hand around to her throat. My fingers flex on instinct, forming a collar around the soft, delicate skin. Her pelvis rubs against mine, the walls of her pussy squeezing.
“Or that,” she whispers.
“You want me to choke you?”
“Yes.”
I see stars, bucking up without thinking. She whines against my mouth, hovering so fucking close but not kissing me. I press harder against her throat and tighten my fingers, letting them dig a bit deeper into the flushed flesh. She swallows, and I feel every movement.
“Work my cock, hellcat. Don’t stop. We both need it. Just don’t fucking stop,” I rasp, but I’m already doing it for her.
She just has to keep taking it the way she already is. Every lift of my hips is a brutal slam, and the noises they pull from her encourage me to keep it up. Her hands move without any rhyme or reason, slipping and grabbing every inch of me she can find as her lips meet mine, pressing hard, then soft.
I swallow every noise that escapes her, growing too addicted to the way they taste. My groin is tight, my cock growing harder with every second that passes. Tilly’s eyes are shut now, her head hanging to the side like it’s too heavy to keep upright. I hold her by the back of the neck and stare at the red marks I’ve left on her throat.
“I’m . . .” She trails off, body locking up tight. “I’m—oh my God!”
“Come, Tilly. Come for me.”
I tear my teeth into my lip when she drops down completely and does just that. Her hips snap forward hard as she moans, hervoice slipping higher and higher. I work myself as deep as I can get and let myself go, flooding her with cum.
“Fuuuuck,” I grunt and yank her against me, chest to chest as I work through my orgasm. “Take it.”Thrust. “Every.”Thrust. “Fucking.”Thrust. “Drop.”
Her whines cover my skin in a warm balm as she holds me by the arms and falls from her high. The soft, needy sounds are nearly the most intimate part of what we’ve done. Nobody hears her like this. Not a soul but me.
I run my hand up her back, stroking it as we catch our breath. Holding her feels like the right thing to do. She’s safe right here in my arms, where I can control who gets close and who doesn’t. It’s just us.
“I’m going to take a shot in the dark and guess that you have a breeding kink,” she whispers teasingly, rubbing her cheek against my throat.
The laugh that fills my chest is unfamiliar and rare, yet I’ve heard it more and more these last few weeks.
“I’ve never given it much thought.”
“So, if I just got up right now?—”
I tighten my arms around her body, keeping her seated in place. “Not yet.”
“Hmmm.”
“It’s got nothing to do with that,” I grunt, but it’s a lie.
“That’s right. I forgot you’re a cuddler now. My bad.”
“I’m not above spanking your ass red and raw, Tilly. Freshly fucked or not.”
She tightens her grip on my biceps and settles fully into my chest. I swallow to free the rock in my throat.
