Page 91 of Born for Lace

His finger moves in and out, too constant, controlled. Then he sucks, and I tighten everywhere, hands in his hair, legs around his face. The clash of his finger’s steady penetration and the violent sucking forces all my blood to that area. He might as well be licking my heart, because every inch between my legs pulses with its frantic beating.

“Good girl, come for me.”

Crying through the climax, my thighs tremble beside his cheeks, the delicate skin scrubbed by his rough beard.

His forehead presses to my lower belly, and he pauses there while I mewl with unbidden control. Pulling his finger from inside me, he crawls up my body, forcing my thighs further apart.

I look down to see his packed shoulder muscles rotating. Dragging with him, the long, hard length between his legs. It beats against my thigh.

Then he stops over me, and I blink at him. Blink. Blink. Nerves play on my tongue, not allowing words through.

“Things I like…” Lagos hums with his lips inches from mine. “Your green eyes filled with soft nerves and sweet lust.”

I part my lips, drawing in thick, buzzing air. It’s happening. He is going to… “I'm scared,” I admit. “It hurts. Doesn’t it?”

The movement of his warm fingers sliding up my side, collecting my hand, makes me shiver. “Do you want me to hold your hand through it?” Lagos entwines our fingers.

I nod. Heisgentle. A gentle man with me. For me. The sickening affection in my belly swallows me whole—I love him. “Yes.”

His fingers bar mine to the blankets above my head. Eyes unwavering from mine, anchors for my nervous energy; he reaches down with his free hand and grabs hold of his dick. “Don’t look.”

“I’ve seen... it.”

He drags his lips up my face to the inside of my upper arm, peppering kisses on the soft tissue there. Intimate. Sweet. Contradicting what he is doing with his other hand, removing his briefs and using the crown of his dick to slide my knickers into the crease of my thigh.

I’m still in my little white dress, with my knickers bunched to the side, flushing across my chest and up my neck. While he is over me, completely naked like an animal—like a beast. It’s the image of being defiled.

And he is too big to kiss me while he does this. His head is clear over the top of mine. I press my cheek to his heart and pant. Ready.

Lagos notches his dick at my opening, and I freeze. Tense. The hot bulb isn’t going to get inside me.

No way.

“Yes.” He grabs my thigh and thrusts into me.

Short. Steady. He squeezes through the layers of skin and muscle, and I cry out, digging my fingers into his hand, mewling wildly but to no end. He is everywhere. The pressure of him. The weight. The electrified air.

I wish I could see his face, but feeling a rumbling growl in his chest is warning enough. “Tight. Mine.All mine.”

Fear curls inside me.

He pries me open.

“You're doingsogood,” he groans, edging out only to squeeze in further. “Such a tight fit. You're going to feel me deep inside you. My cock is going to throb against your cervix, do you understand?”

I nod against his chest.

And he thrusts in until I feel something punch at bone, at the end of me. He tucks me under him further, bundles me into the position he needs, ready, and starts to really move.

The air around us seems to spark and sizzle. My mouth opens, cries and moans soaring together. I let this massive man use my body to work out his carnal need.

In. Out.

Oh.

A restless hand paws my thigh.

Grunting with each inward thrust, he groans long and deep to his outward draws. Over and over.

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