“There,” I gasped. “Right—oh God, right there.”
His grin was wicked. “Yeah, Kitten? You like that?”
I nodded frantically, my fingers curling into his chest as he did it again, his ridges hitting me just right. My nails scraped his skin, and he groaned, his hips picking up speed.
“This time when you come,” he rasped, his hand moving to my waist, guiding me, “you’re going to scream my name. You understand?”
I whimpered, my body already winding tight again. Afourthorgasm? Was such a thing possible?
“I—I don’t know if I can?—”
“You can,” he growled, his thrusts growing harder, more insistent. “You will. Because I’m going to make you.”
His words sent a thrill through me, and I realized Iwantedto. I wanted to be loud, wanted to be uninhibited, wanted totake up spacein a way I never had before. His hand slid up to my breast again, his fingers rolling my nipple just hard enough to make me gasp, and when he tugged them, pleasure arced through me.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice dark with approval. “Let me hear you, Joss. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”
I moaned, my head tipping back as his cock thrust up into me, each ridge dragging against my walls, his balls slapping against my ass.
The sounds—wet, obscene,primal—filled the room, and I realized I was making them.Iwas the one panting, the one whimpering, the one riding him with abandon.
“Brakkor—” His name fell from my lips in a breathless plea, and his growl of approval sent another wave of heat through me.
“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, his hands sliding down to grip my hips, his fingers digging in as he drove up into me harder. “Say it again.”
“Brakkor!” I cried, my body tightening, my orgasm coiled just out of reach.
“Good girl,” he rasped. “Now scream it.”
His hand slid between us, his palm pressing against my clit, and the pressure—exactlywhere I needed it—sent me spiraling.
“Oh God—” My voice broke as his fingers circled, his cock slamming up into me, his ridges hitting that spot over and over. “Brakkor, I’m?—”
“Now, Joss,” he commanded, his voice rough. “Come for me now.”
And I did.
My back arched, my nails raking down his chest as pleasure crashed over me, my pussy clenching around his cock. A scream tore from my throat—his name, just like he’d demanded—and he groaned, his hips stuttering as I rode out the waves of my climax.
“Fuck, Kitten,” he growled, his fingers still working my clit, prolonging it, drawing it out. “You’re so fucking perfect. I’m going to come, Joss. Godsdamn, that delicious little cunt of yours is so perfect, I’m going to fill it up.”
“Yes,” I gasped, my body still trembling. “Please?—”
His cock swelled inside me, and with a final, deep thrust, he groaned, his release pulsing into me. I could feel it—hot and thick, filling me in a way I’d never experienced before. His hands gripped my hips, holding me down as he came, his breath ragged against my skin.
“Fuck,” he panted, his chest heaving beneath me. “Fuck, Joss.”
I collapsed against him, my forehead pressing to his shoulder as I tried to catch my breath. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close, his cock still twitching inside me.
For a long moment, we just lay there, my body boneless, my mind blissfully empty. Then his fingers traced lazy patterns up and down my back, and I shivered.
“You okay, Kitten?” His voice was rough, but soft.
I nodded against his shoulder, a slow smile spreading across my face. “Yeah. That was…”
“Good?” He chuckled, the vibration rumbling through us both.
“Better than good,” I admitted, lifting my head to meet his gaze. His dark eyes were warm, his expression satisfied, and something in my chest squeezed.
