Page 76 of Stags

He stood over her and reached down with one hand to weigh first one and then the other. “You have great tits,” he said idly. He squeezed one. “I love the way they fit in my hands.”

She reacted to that, a little flutter within her at the compliment. She pressed her legs together.

“I can fucking smell you,” he growled. “I want you on the bed, on your hands and knees, with your ass in the air.”

“Oh, is that what you want?” she said, and she could hardly catch her breath. She pressed her legs together even more firmly. “You might have to force me, I think.”

“Force you,” he repeated. He looked at her face, taking in her expression and then back to her bare chest and then he yanked her upright, onto her feet. “Should we have a safe word, little preykin?”

“Do you want to know my name?” she said.

He thought about that. “I don’t know if I do.” He stripped the robe off her body, businesslike. He gave her a little shove, pushing her towards the bed.

She didn’t fight him. She did what he wanted, scrambling onto the bed on all fours.

He dragged his fingers over the curve of her bare ass. “My name is Lyall,” he said conversationally. “Open your legs wider. Show me your pussy, little preykin.”

She did it.

He stuck a finger into her.

She cried out.

He reached around and his thumb found her clit. He finger-fucked her and toyed with her clit with one hand and his other hand slid up over her belly to close around one of her breasts. “How easy is it to make you come usually?” he said.

“Not… as easy as it was last night,” she panted.

“Why do you think it was easy?” he said in a low voice, and she could feel the tickle of his breath at the junction of her thighs.

“I don’t…”

“Was it because you were afraid of me?” he said.

Something about the way he spoke made that spike of strange not-quite-unpleasant heat shoot through her, and that same thing made her clench on his finger and she let out a guttural noise.

He drew in a whistling breath. “Fuck, the way yousmellright now,” he muttered.

Suddenly, his teeth were around the fleshy part of her inner thigh, gentle but with a hint of pressure.

She cried out, the heat spiking, her body clenching, his thumb moving frantically on her clit, his hand at her breast squeezing her in a rhythm that stretched her nipple in delicious ways.

He bit down harder on her thigh.

And she came, just like that, her body flattening out in a white-hot ebb that jumped frantically into a crest of hot, hot pleasure.

He yanked his hand out of her pussy, took his teeth off her leg.

She pressed her legs together to wring out her orgasm, letting out tiny little noises as the aftershocks moved through her pelvis.

He put a hand on her back and pushed.

She collapsed, belly down on the bed, still coming.

The sound of his zipper, the press of the head of his thickness. “Now, little preykin, I am going to fuck you. Yes?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, please.”

“Good,” he growled, and he seized her tail with one hand and speared her. He fucked her hard, briskly, still holding her tail, using it to move her up and down against the rhythm of his thrusts.

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