“Not yet.” He releases my throat and drops to his knees so fast the water splashes. “First, I'm going to eat this pussy until you're begging. Going to make you come so many times you forget how to think. Then I'll fuck you.”
He kneels, the stream of water pelting his broad back, steam rising around us, and he doesn't give me time to respond before his mouth is on me.
There's nothing gentle about it. He's devouring me like a man starved, his tongue flat and firm against my clit, licking in long strokes that make my legs shake. His hands grip my arse, holding me in place, keeping me open.
“Ashland, oh fuck, oh god?—”
My hands scrabble against the tile, finding no purchase, and he releases one of my arse cheeks to grab my wrist, placing my hand on his head.
“Hold on,” he orders against my pussy. “Ride my face. Use me.”
I do. God help me, I do. I grip his head and grind against his mouth shamelessly. He groans, the vibration making me whimper, and suddenly his fingers are there, two of them pushing inside me.
“Yes—”
“Sofucking tight,” he mutters, working his fingers deeper. “Going to have to stretch you out good before you can take my cock again, aren't I? This perfect little cunt needs to be trained.”
I whimper and nod becausewhy is that so hot?
“Who do you belong to?”
“You. I belong to you.”
“Damn right you do.” He adds a third finger, and the stretch burns so good I could cry. “This pussy is mine. This arse is mine. These tits are mine. Every inch of you belongs to me, Bianca. Say it.”
“Every inch of me belongs to you.” I gasp, my walls clenching around his fingers.
“Good girl. Now let go. Come on my fingers and mouth, baby.”
He curls his fingers, finding that spot inside me, and latches back onto my clit. The combination is devastating—his fingers pumping, his mouth sucking, the hot water streaming over us—and I'm coming before I can even warn him.
“Ashland!” I scream his name, my whole body seizing, and he works me through it relentlessly. But he doesn't stop. Even as I'm still shaking from the first orgasm, he's building me toward another one.
“Can't—too much?—”
“You can. You will.” His voice is merciless. “Going to make you come until you're wrecked. Until you're ruined. Until the only thing left in that pretty head is my name.”
He's ruthless, pushing me higher and higher, and when the second orgasm hits, it's even more intense than the first. I'm actually crying, overwhelmed by sensation and emotion and the sheer intensity of what he's making me feel.
“That's two,” he says, almost conversational, though his voice is wrecked. “Think you can give me one more before I fuck you?”
“I can't?—”
“Yes, you can. Be my good girl, Bianca. One more.”
He stands, keeping his fingers inside me, and captures my mouth in a brutal kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue, and it should be embarrassing, but it's just hot, dirty, and perfect.
His thumb finds my clit, rubbing tight circles, and his other hand wraps around my throat again.
“Look at me,” he commands. “Eyes on me when you come.”
I force my eyes open, meeting his storm-cloud gaze, and the intimacy of it, of being seen like this, vulnerable and wrecked and completely his, pushes me over the edge again.
The third orgasm is different. Slower, deeper, rolling through me in waves that seem endless. I hold his gaze the whole time, tears streaming down my face, and something passes between us—something profound and terrifying and absolutely right.
“There she is,” he murmurs, gathering me close as I shake apart. “There's my girl.”
I'm boneless and trembling as he turns off the water with one hand while supporting me with the other. He wraps me in a towel and carries me to the bedroom, laying me down on the bed like I'm fragile.
