I cry out, my back arching off the bed. My hands fly to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. I am no longer holding back.
I am writhing beneath him, my body moving with his in a primal, ancient dance.
My other leg wraps around his waist, opening myself to him completely, giving him everything.
"Harder," I gasp.
He growls and slams into me again.
The force of it jolts my entire body.
"Is this what you want?" he asks, his voice a dark, velvety command that sends a shiver down my spine. "Is this what you wished for in your dreams? To be fucked hard, fast, deep?"
I can only moan in response, my mind too fogged with pleasure to form a coherent sentence. He doesn't wait for an answer.
He continues to move inside me, deep, hard thrusts that push me closer and closer to the edge.
"Did you touch yourself, Victoria?" he asks.
My eyes fly open. I stare at him, my breath catching.
His thrusts slow for a beat, the movement clearly meant to punish.
"Tell me," he demands. "Did you touch yourself while you thought about me? While you laid in this bed at night? Did you think about my hands on you? My mouth?"
My face burns with shame, but there is something else there, too. Something dark and thrilling.
He wants to know.
He wants to hear it.
The thought is so arousing that I can feel my inner walls clench around him.
He stops.
I cry out in protest. "No. Don't stop."
"Tell me," he repeats, his voice dangerously calm. "I want to hear you say it."
"Yes," I gasp. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
He starts moving again, but the pace is slow. Torturous. A deep, grinding that is more frustrating than not moving at all.
He is making me wait. Again.
How does he have so much willpower? I can't think. I can barely form a coherent thought, let alone string together a sentence.
"Tell me, Victoria," he murmurs. "Tell me what you did right here in this bed."
I squeeze my eyes shut, a wave of heat washing over me.
He knows. He knows how much this turns me on. He knows I'm not a woman who talks like this.
But with him... I am. I can't help it.
"I... I touched myself," I whisper. "I thought about you and touched myself."
