“K-Kell?—”
“I got you,” he reassures quietly, lifting his head to feather his lips across my jawline toward my ear. “You have such a sensitive little pussy, don’t you, baby?”
My stomach flips from his salacious words, and I nod, though it’s more like a stilted jerk.
Keeping his fingers flat and pressed together, he circles all four of them against me, subduing the sharp throbbing. I arch into his hand with a strangled whine, seeking more of the newfound pleasure his ministrations create.
He groans low in his throat. “That feel good?”
“Yes,” I gasp, shuddering when he nips right below my jaw.
The surrounding air becomes hot and heavy again. He feels incredible on top of me like this. He’s still braced on his bent arm, keeping his body lifted a few inches and his weight off me, but he’s close enough to easily arch into him and feel his skin against mine.
Every atom in my body feels magnetized toward him, a force impossible to resist.
His fingers continue to swirl over my pussy, wringing out breathless moans from my lips, while he delivers sharp nips down my neck. My hips undulate against him, needing more yet never wanting this to end.
“More,” I beg, desperate to have him inside me again.
Abruptly, he pulls his hand away, and I’m unable to stop myself from whining at the loss.
He tsks. “You’re being a greedy little slut,” he says darkly.
“Then I’ll go fuck the dildo again. At least that one has stamina,” I bite back.
I’m given no warning for the sharp slap he delivers directly between my thighs. I yelp, jerking against him. The burning sensation flirts with pleasure, and I’m torn between wanting him to do it again and wanting him to soothe me more.
“You better fucking apologize, or your pussy will sooner grow cobwebs before I touch it again,” he snarls.
The mere thought of that makes me want to cry, yet my throat closes around the apology. It goes against every fiber of my being to say sorry to him, but if he abandoned me right now, my desperation might haveme on my knees damn near kissing his feet, and that’s just too fucking shameful to consider.
I tug on his hair, prompting him to lift his head until I can slide my lips against his. His stare is a raging hellfire, which assures me I haven’t pissed him off too much. It’s when he turns to ice that I need to worry.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper, evoking a low growl from deep in his chest, a tremble working through his body. It seems the endearment is another weakness of his, just like when I call him by his real name.
I give him my best doe-eyed stare. “I used to play with myself until it hurt to come. I’ve always been a greedy slut for you.”
He shakes his head and huffs out a breathless laugh that bleeds into a low groan, knowing I'm deliberately riling him up yet unable to resist it.
Two of his fingers swipe over my stomach, collecting his cum on the tips before reaching between my legs and gliding them down my slit. I bite my bottom lip, but not before a mewl slips through. I could weep from the relief of having him touch me again.
He watches me carefully as he plunges those same two fingers deep inside me then curls them against my g-spot. My mouth drops open to set free a single cry against his parted lips. That’s the only grace I’m offered before he rapidly pumps his fingers directly on that spot, as if he’s repeatedly pressing a button, keeping them curled just right to target it perfectly.
What starts as a moan ascends to a high-pitched squeak, though they do nothing to mask the wet squelching noises from his fingers. It’s almost too intense, and the urge to pee quickly arises.
“Ohh, fffffuu—” The syllable stutters out of me before turning into another high-pitched sound, my body curling into him.
I make the mistake of locking eyes with him, because the moment I do, I can’t look away. It agitates the butterflies until they’re wreaking absolute havoc on my insides, but I’m helpless to stop them.
It makes me desperate to alleviate the tension, so I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock. His pupils dilate, and a low moan vibrates his throat. He’s still hard, but he’s sticky, so I grab his wrist and tug.
“Share with me,” I say.
He doesn’t need elaboration. He removes his fingers, and my hips involuntarily roll from the loss while my core practically screams for him to come back. I’m unable to bite back the whimper in time.
“Such a needy pussy,” he murmurs, wrapping his hand around his cock and spreading the cocktail of our cum along his length.
Biting my lip, I glide my own palm down my center, wetting it before practically prying his fingers away from his dick.
