Page 81 of Delayed Penalty

I’ve never slapped my hand over my mouth so quickly before, and Hayes barely waits until it’s there before he’s surging into me, fucking me hard and fast with his fingers, his thumb on my clit as I ride the wave.

“Oh fuck,” I say into my hand. “I’m coming. I’m?—”

My orgasm slams into me, my legs shaking with the force of it, and I’ve never been so thankful for Hayes’s instructions as I scream into my hand, unable to hold it back any longer. He fucks me through the onslaught, never once letting up, and I don’t care that my pussy is sore from being stretched or that my legs are aching from being spread so wide.

I can’t care.

Hayes slips his fingers from me and into his mouth, licking off my orgasm from each digit one by one, like it’s his favorite meal and he wouldn’t dare leave a drop of it behind. It’s so carnal. So crude.

And I love every second.

I turn my head to his, capturing his mouth with mine, tasting myself on his tongue. He kisses mehungrily, like he’s still not satiated. I’m not either. I wrench my mouth from his and crawl off his lap onto my knees between his thighs. I hook my fingers in the waistband of his flannel pants and tug them down.

“What are you doing?” he asks even as he lifts himself, allowing me to undress him.

I take his heavy cock in my hand, pumping it a few times before sliding my tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip, then back down again. I tease him over and over, sucking the head of him but not taking it any further, enjoying being the one in charge far, far too much.

He looks down at me with hooded eyes. “Tease.”

I grin around the tip of him.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I really want to fuck your throat.”

He’s so big and can barely fit there. There’s no way I’m going to be able to deep throat him. Yet, my pussy throbs at the idea.

“Would you let me?” He runs his fingers over my jaw as I continue to tease. “Would you let me spill my cum down your throat, Quinny? Would you let me use you until you’re so raw you’re hoarse tomorrow?”

I nod.

“Use your words,” he reminds me.

“Please, Adam. Use me.”

“Good.” He rises to his feet, gripping the base ofhis cock as I stare up at him with want. “Then hold your hair back and put your tongue out.”

I do as he asks, then wait. He slaps his heavy cock against my tongue a few times, then slides it against me, testing the friction.

“Fuck. So warm. So soft.”

He slides in more, stretching my mouth around him the way he stretched me around his fingers. He gives me an inch at a time, letting me breathe through it until he bumps the back of my throat, and I gag a little. I feel him twitch at the sound.

He settles there, letting me get used to the feeling of him before backing away, and I gasp air in. He does it again, over and over until I’m taking him easier. Longer. Deeper.

But he’s holding back. I can tell, and not just because his legs are shaking. It’s the way his shoulders are tense and the sweat that’s forming along his hairline. He wants to let go so bad, and I want him to, too. I hum around him the next time he slides in deep, letting him know I’m ready, and he gets the picture.

“Going to fuck you now,” he mumbles, and it’s the only warning I get before he completely gives in, surging into me and slamming against the back of my throat.

He was right—I am going to be hoarse tomorrow, but I welcome it if it means I get to feel him like thisright now. I keep my promise, letting him use me until he’s spurting into the back of my throat, a low groan leaving him as he fills me. I swallow him down the best I can, but it’s too much, some of his cum dribbling down my chin.

Hayes pulls me up by my hair, then slides his tongue along the salty line before slamming his mouth over mine. He spins me around, pressing a hand to the middle of my back before I fold over and he surges into me from behind. I let out a loud yelp at the sudden intrusion.

“Shh!” he says, curling his body around mine and covering my mouth as he slides into me again. “Be a good girl and keep quiet, Quinny.”

I nod, moaning as he fucks into me hard and impossibly deep. I’m tired and sore and I can barely keep myself up, but it’s still somehow the best I’ve ever felt. I’m as quiet as I can be, and Hayes follows behind me shortly after, the room going from the sounds of our slapping bodies to nothing but our harsh breaths as he maneuvers us onto the bed, then collapses beside me. I lie there, struggling to catch my breath and unable to move, unable to think. I’ve died and this is the afterlife, I’m sure of it.

“Why?”

The sudden noise startles me, and I lift my head, turning to look at Hayes.

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