“I said. Bite. My. Fucking. Clit.” I demand, letting out a gasp when, with a groan, he does just that. The sensation is almost too much; my vision goes white around the edges as my back arches, my body trying desperately to drive me closer to him.
“Oh my God, Matt,” I cry out, letting go of him, to cup my breasts, rolling my nipples between my fingers. “More. Give memore.”
He hums against me, the vibrations doing sinful things to my already sensitive clit as he uses his mouth to bring me more pleasure than I ever thought possible.
“Right there,” I beg, as he plunges two fingers inside, curling them just so as my body spins out of control.
“How does it feel? Knowing I’m about to come all over your face and you can’t even get hard right now,” I taunt him, and in return, he digs his blunt nails into my hips hard enough toadd a fresh spark of pain, just enough to send me hurtling into pleasure as it quakes through me from my head to my toes.
I love this man.
And not just because he’s letting me cage up his cock, dressing up in leather, and letting me dominate him on camera. Not even simply because he makes me come harder than I ever have before. No, I love him for all the quiet ways he supports me.Lovesme. And the way he’s so assured in his masculinity that doing something like this doesn't even faze him.
Using my grip on his hair, I guide him to his feet, so he’s standing in front of me. Even with our height difference, there’s no doubting who’s in control tonight as I reach between us to palm his cock.
“Please, I want to feel you,” he whimpers, cock giving a feeble twitch between us.
“Hmm. I don’t think you’ve earned it yet,” I tease him, giving his balls one last squeeze before dropping them. Turning to look at the camera, I cock my head to the side and ask the future audience, “What do you think? Should I free him? Or should he crawl first?”
Before the words are even out of my lips, there’s a soft thud behind me as Matt drops to his knees. Looking back at him, blindfolded, clad in leather with his cock locked away, I’m tempted to say fuck it. But the idea of having him crawling to me recorded is to fucking hot to pass up.
Padding over to the bed, I take a seat at the edge.
“Be a good boy, and crawl to me. Slowly. Let me watch you,” I drawl, leaning back on my elbows to watch his slow approach. Once he’s close enough that his hand brushes the side of my foot, he pauses.
Without me saying anything, he bows his head and licks a hot, wet trail from my foot all the way up my calf before switching to the other. The act is so reminiscent of our night in Lyon my heart lurches.
We’ve come so far from then, but seeing him at my mercy like this never gets old.
“What a good boy. You must really want to be set free, hmm?” Reaching down, I cup his jaw before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips. Pulling back, I trail my foot over his lap, pressing down on his cock.
“Please, Lily. I’ve been so good, please.” He begs, his words coming out in between little whimpers as I slowly apply pressure with my foot while I pretend to think about it.
“Stand up.” My words are soft, but he jumps like they’re a command. Shifting closer, I slowly slip his cock free; he flinches a little at the sensation even as his cock starts to grow harder.
“Matt,” I say, drawing his attention to me.
“Yes?” he responds.
“Fuck me now.”
He doesn’t hesitate. Taking me by surprise, he slips his blindfold free and hooks his arms under my legs as he hoists me off the bed and into his arms. The next thing I know, he’s lying down on the bed and settling me over his cock, reverse cowgirl, and holding my thighs open over his forearms.
Holy shit, this is going to look hot.
With a heavy grunt, he slips his cock inside me and thrusts up into me, and I dig my nails into his arms for support as I ride him.
“Don’t stop,” I cry out.
Mattgrowls—that deep, possessive sound that vibrates right through me—and he doesn’t just listen. Heobeys. His hips drive harder, faster, the sharp smack of skin against skin filling the room as he thrusts into me with an intensity that feels like it might split the world open.
“Fuck—Lily…” His voice is ragged, breathless, lost in me.
The leather of his trousers slides deliciously against the backs of my thighs with every movement, each thrust pure instinct, pure need. He can’t see me—but the camera can—and somehow that makes it even filthier. Even more desperate.
My nails drag down his arms, leaving red trails in their wake, and he shudders beneath my touch. “You feel so good,” I gasp, arching into him, chasing every inch he gives me. “God, Matt, you—don’t you dare slow down—”
“Never,” he pants, thrusting deeper, harder, until it feels like he’s everywhere, inside me, around me, consuming me. “I couldn’t stop if I fucking tried.”
