I rode him hard and fast, grinding down against the massive cock threatening to break free of its denim constraints. But as incredible as he felt, something was still missing.
“I need more,” I squeezed out between breaths, frustration lacing my voice.
Bennett released my nipple with a wet pop. “Tell me.”
“I need something inside me, filling me.”
His jaw tightened, a hungry sound rumbling in his throat. “You want my fingers, baby? Stretching this tight, perfect pussy?”
I nodded frantically, too turned on to be embarrassed by his words. “Please. Yes.”
He didn’t make me wait.
One strong hand stayed on my ass, holding me steady against the ridge of his cock, while the other slid between us, fingers hooking through the soaked strip of my panties and drawing it to the side.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.”
His eyes locked on mine as he circled my clit. I rocked into his hand, chasing more, but he held me still with the grip on my ass.
“Easy,” he murmured, voice low and soothing. “Let me take care of you.”
He pressed one thick finger against my entrance, testing my readiness, letting me feel the promise of pleasure still to come.
Geez, how Dickensian.
The Ghost of Bella Still to Come.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said before sliding a finger inside, giving me time to adjust to the gentle stretch.
I was tight, but my slick heat eased the way. He sank in to the knuckle without protest.
“Good girl,” he praised, holding still while I clenched around him. “Just one for now, baby. Breathe.”
I exhaled shakily, nodding. And then, he started to move.
Shallow thrusts at first, curling slightly to stroke that sensitive spot inside while his thumb settled over my clit in firm, rhythmic circles.
The dual sensation lit me up like the Fourth of July, though something told me that Uncle Sam wouldn’t approve. I jerked involuntarily, grinding down on his finger and the hard length still trapped beneath me.
“You’re doing so good, baby. Want more?”
“God yes.” I gasped, head falling back.
A second finger joined the first, pushing in alongside it with a wet sound that made me clench harder. He scissored them gently at first, opening me up, stretching me wide.
“Still good?” he checked, slowing until I nodded frantically.
“Please.” I wasn’t above begging, “Don’t stop—”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” he growled, fingers pumping deeper now. Faster. The heel of his hand pressed against my mound with each drive, adding pressure while his thumb rubbed my swollen clit without mercy. “Christ, you’re so fucking beautiful. Hear how wet you are for me? This tight, little pussy is sucking me in like it never wants to let go.”
I was lost, riding his hand shamelessly.
The room filled with the soft sounds of his fingers fucking me, my broken moans, his ragged breathing. His free hand held me open, tilting me back so he could drive even deeper.
“Come on, baby,” he rasped against my breast, teeth scraping skin before he sucked hard enough to leave a mark. “Let me feel you soak my hand, Arabella.”
Arabella.
