The first swipe of his tongue made me arch off the bed, moaning his name. He growled against my pussy, the vibration sending sparks through me.
“So fucking sweet,” he rasped. “My dirty little girl dripping for her stepdaddy.”
He licked me slowly at first, long, flat strokes from entrance to clit. Then he focused on my swollen bud, sucking it into his mouth, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. I writhed, wrists straining against the belt, hips grinding against his face.
“Please,” I gasped. “Give me more…”
The word made him snarl, and he sucked harder, tongue lashing relentlessly. He pushed two thick fingers inside me, pumping them in and out until my vision turned white.
“Beg again,” he demanded, voice muffled against my flesh.
“I need more,” I moaned. “Please, make me come.”
He doubled down, his digits pumping and tongue relentless until I shattered, screaming his name as my pussy clenched and gushed around his hand.
Marcus didn’t stop. He licked me through every aftershock until I was shaking, oversensitive, and begging him to stop and never stop at the same time.
When I finally collapsed, panting, he rose over me, eyes black with need. He undid my wrists and flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my hips up so my ass was in the air, and smacked my ass. Hard.
“Look at this pretty red ass,” he growled, delivering another sharp smack that made me yelp. “Gonna mark it up for me.”
He spanked me again then rubbed the sting away with his palm. Again. And again. Each stroke built the heat until my pussy was trickling down my thighs, and my moans were muffled into the pillow.
“Such a filthy girl,” he muttered. “Getting wet from your stepdaddy spanking you.”
He positioned himself fully behind me, rubbing the thick head of his cock through my folds, coating himself in my slick.
“Beg for it,” he ordered.
“Please,” I whimpered, not even fighting his order. “Please fuck me. I need your cock inside me.”
And he gave me exactly what I wanted. He thrust in hard and deep in one brutal stroke that stretched me open and made me cry out.
Marcus didn’t give me time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed in again, setting a punishing rhythm. One hand wrapped around my throat, tight enough I knew he was in control but loose enough that I could breathe. With his other hand, he gripped my hip, fingers digging in, bruising my flesh.
“Take it,” he growled. “Take every inch of my cock like the good girl you are.”
I pushed back to meet every thrust, moaning in broken pants. He yanked my head back by my hair, forcing me to arch.
“Come for me,” he commanded. “Come all over my dick. Make a mess and milk me dry, baby.”
His filthy word, the taboo of what we were doing, and the way he filled me so completely sent me over the edge. I’d never comelike this before, never felt so right, pussy spasming over and over all while I screamed his name like he was my lifesaver.
Wave after wave crashed through me, and the whole time, he fucked me through it. His thrusts grew erratic until he buried himself deep and came with a guttural groan, pulsing inside me, filling me up.
We collapsed together, both of us sweaty, trembling, and breathless. Marcus gently rubbed the faint red marks on my wrists that the belt had made. He pulled me against his chest, arms wrapping around me as if he never wanted to let go.
We lay there in silence for a long time, hearts pounding in tandem.
Finally, he spoke, voice rough. “This is still wrong.”
“I know.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple. “But I don’t know how to stop.”
“Me either,” I whispered.
He tightened his arms around me. Guilt lingered in the air between us but so did the warmth of his body against mine, the steady beat of his heart under my cheek, and the bone-deep satisfaction of finally having him inside me.
