I whimpered, my face burning. I’d never been touched like this before, never been spoken to like this. His fingers circled my clit, slow and deliberate, before sliding lower, two of them pressing inside me. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders, my body tightening around him.
“So tight,” he murmured, his lips brushing my collarbone. “So fucking perfect.”
I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. His fingers curled inside me, finding a spot that made my vision white out, my hips jerking against his hand. He added a third finger, stretching me, and I moaned, the sound shameless, needy.
“Please,” I begged, not even knowing what I was asking for.
He knew. Oh, he knew.
His fingers slid free, and before I could protest, he flipped me onto my stomach, his hand pressing between my shoulder blades, keeping me down. I heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, thezipper of his trousers, and then his weight was gone, just for a second—before his hands gripped my hips, yanking me onto my knees.
“Look at you,” he growled, his voice rough. “On your knees for me. Begging for me.”
I wasn’t begging. Not with words. But my body was, my hips rocking back, seeking something I didn’t even understand. His hands slid over my ass, squeezing, spreading me open. I felt his breath first, hot against my exposed flesh, and then his tongue—oh god—his tongue dragged up my slit, slow and deliberate, before circling my clit.
I screamed.
His chuckle was dark, satisfied. “That’s it. Scream for me.”
But then his mouth was on me again, his tongue fucking me, his lips sealing around my clit, sucking hard. My hands fisted in the sheets, my body trembling, my moans turning into broken sobs. He didn’t let up. Didn’t give me a chance to breathe. His fingers joined his mouth, two of them sliding inside me, curling, while his tongue worked my clit in relentless circles.
“I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own name,” he murmured against my flesh, his breath hot. “And then you’re going to do it again. And again. Until you remember who you belong to.”
I couldn’t—I couldn’t— His teeth grazed my clit, and I shattered.
My orgasm hit me like a wave, drowning me, my body convulsing, my cries muffled against the mattress. He didn’t stop. His tongue lapped at me, drawing out every last tremor, his fingers still moving inside me, prolonging it, making it worse. Making it better.
When I finally collapsed, boneless, he pulled back, his lips glistening with me. He flipped me onto my back, his dark eyes burning into mine as he loomed over me.
“My turn,” he growled.
I didn’t have the strength to argue.
He stripped the rest of his clothes away, his cock springing free, thick and heavy, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. My eyes widened. I’d never—I didn’t—
“Open,” he commanded, his voice rough.
I parted my lips, my heart hammering. He guided the head of his cock between them, his hand tangling in my hair, holding me still.
“Good girl,” he murmured as I took him deeper, my tongue swirling around the tip. His taste was salt and musk, his skin velvet over steel. I hollowed my cheeks, taking him as far as I could, my hands gripping his thighs for balance. His groan was low, guttural, his hips rocking forward slightly, feeding me more of him.
“Fuck, Aria,” he rasped, his fingers tightening in my hair. “Your mouth is heaven.”
I moaned around him, the vibration making him hiss. His free hand cupped my chin, his thumb brushing my cheek as I took him deeper, my lips stretching around his girth. I could feel him pulse against my tongue, could taste the pre-cum leaking from the tip. My pussy throbbed, empty and aching, my juices dripping down my thighs.
“Enough,” he growled suddenly, pulling back. I whimpered at the loss, but then his hands were on me again, flipping me onto my stomach, yanking my hips up. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
I didn’t have time to react. His cock pressed against my entrance, thick and relentless, and then he was pushing inside, stretching me, filling me in one long, brutal thrust. I screamed, my fingers clawing at the sheets, my body struggling to adjust to his size.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. He gave me a second—just one—to adjust before he pulled back and slammed into me again. My cry was raw, animalistic, my body rocking forward with the force of his thrust. He didn’t hold back. Didn’t care. His hips snapped against mine, his cock pounding into me, each thrust deeper than the last. The sound of flesh slapping flesh filled the room, wet and obscene, mixing with my moans and his groans.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice a dark growl. “Say you’re mine.”
I was his. I’d always been his.
“Yours,” I sobbed, my body tightening around him, my orgasm building again, relentless,inevitable.
