Page 66 of Start With A Slap

Swirling a butter coated finger around her rim, he felt her pucker; saw the apprehension on her face. “Relax, sweet. We’ll go slow.”

Expelling her held breath, she nodded at him. As she slackened, he pushed an exploratory butter-slicked finger into her asshole. It was clenched tight, so he placed his free palm flush against her clitoris, to which she let out a needy mew and began to gyrate and open up to him like a budding flower.

He probed all the way into her rectum, and she gasped. “Too fast?”

With a minxy smile, she breathed, “Too small,” and he was convinced she was pure fucking perfection.

“Naughty girl,” he said, and lodged a second finger in while smacking her puss, causing fresh liquid desire to weep out of her pussy onto his otherwise occupied hand.

He would never tire of causing that treacly little waterfall.

“Looks like baby needs something bigger,” he said, extracting his hand. Sever saw that fleeting grin, that subtle shiver.

With a mix of silken dew and another generous scoop of butter, he coated his rigid length. He teased his tip against her tautened rim and gently pressed in, but was stopped by a tight barrier.

“Bear down, love,” he murmured. “Push me out.”

She looked confused by that, but when she did it, the head of his cock pushed past that prohibitive ring of muscles and they both cried out. Her probably in shock, him in ecstasy... and shock. It had been a while.

His arms shook as he eased in further, and didn’t stop until his pelvis touched the backs of her thighs and beads of sweat trickled down his neck from the restraint.

Sever stilled, savoring the sensation of being sheathed in her slick, pulsing heat.

Ivy whimpered, moving her hips against him. He imagined her doing this with an inept ex-boyfriend, him frantically sliding in and out of her.

He stuck a pillow beneath her ass, pulled her legs up until her calves rested on his shoulders, then slung an arm around her thighs to hold her in place. He didn’t slide out and back in, like she may have expected. That was a rookie’s move.

Keeping his full length inside of her and her body pressed to his, he began to shudder, to pulsate in tiny, imperceptible thrusts at a breakneck tempo. Learned it while buggering Roxieto angry speedcore records, and it’s what finally hooked her to him.

Would it hook Ivy as well?

Of course not. But he could show her what she’d be missing without him, when her principles inevitably snapped back into place once they returned to Los Angeles.

At this moment, however, she was under his spell. Well and truly. It was like watching a time lapse as her soft, pink skin flushed from her chest to her neck and cheeks, as sweat sheened her skin, as her entire being gave in to the sensation. She was a convert, she was his disciple, but she was merely at the gates of euphoria, peering in.

He curled his fingers into her pussy, pressing into her spongey top wall. No movement, just kept it there. Owning it.

Her head began to thrash. Her legs tremored in a crescendo. She opened her mouth wide, blurted consonants and vowels.

“That’s right,tigresse,” he breathed, and grit his teeth. “Fucking die on my cock.”

She stilled, and began a silent wail that ended in the rawest, most indelicate bellow she’d let out yet. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. And felt. Her walls gripped and slackened in erratic bursts, milking him, as a rush of her orgasmic nectar inundated his fingers.

He hastily pulled his hand out of her, bringing with it a long string of her come. He slathered it over the juncture of his cock and her asshole, and wrangled her legs outward and under his arms. “My turn now.”

She could barely breathe, let alone speak. Her head lolled to the side.

“Look at me,” he commanded, moving her by the chin.

She looked up at him, hazy with afterglow.

“That’s right,” he ground out, pumping his hips at his own pace now. “This hot little hole is mine now.” He was going tomake sure the shape of him was imprinted on her for the rest of her days. “Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

A fire flared in her eyes at that, then faded. She was too weak to argue, and there was no argument. She was fucking ruined, and she knew it.

Not breaking eye contact, he grabbed her ass and pumped his hips, his sweat dripping onto her. “Tighten up for me.”

She obeyed, and he nearly cried at the sensation. She began to squeeze it open and closed—tight, loose, tight, loose—and it took him all of five thrusts to unload everything he had left in him. His accompanying bellow was just as indecorous as hers had been.

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