“Again,” he said—withdrawing, waiting, then slamming into me.
I screamed his name.
His fingers began to move in my pussy, fucking me in time with his cock, and it was too much. Or too little. I couldn’t tell anymore.
“Good. Anal. Whore,” he grunted, driving deeper with each upward thrust.
I clutched the bedding, clawing at it as the tension coiled tight inside me, ready to burst. My eyes fluttered—and when he thrust so deep that his wet balls slapped against me, I shattered.
His curses sounded far away.
I clenched around his cock and his fingers, coming hard while my arse felt every inch of him. He stayed inside me. Didn’t move. Let me try to breathe again.
Then he pulled out suddenly, rolled me onto my back, and climbed over me. He gripped his cock in his fist.
I opened my mouth.
Wide.
Like he’d taught me.
His knees caught in my hair as he moved closer.
The pain didn’t stop me from swallowing him down.
My mouth.
My throat.
My neck.
I tasted him.
Myself.
He used me.
I let him.
When he came inside my throat, my nose was buried in his hair, tickling my skin.
But he smelled nice.
I liked the body wash he used.
He held himself there until every last drop was gone, until his cock finally stopped jerking.
I guess he kept all his promises.
Later, when the noise had faded away, he pulled the covers over us.
It felt nice being held.
I closed my eyes.
Chapter 33
Alec
