Page 22 of Love is Blind

Feeling it pressed against me and having it in my palm are two different things.

“You survive this, I’ll give you my mouth. Lick every last drop from you.”

“Survive?” I ask, tightening my fingers around him. My pussy throbs as I slide my hand up and down his shaft, exploring every hard inch, memorizing every angry vein. I roll my thumb over the engorged head waiting for him to elaborate and swipe at the bead of come.

“Ain’t gonna go easy on you, darlin’. The way I’m feeling, I just might break you. Split you right in half.”

It’s confirmed.

The man is going to destroy me, and I’m not even scared.

Bring on the pain.

Give me all the pleasure.

I bring my thumb to my mouth and lick it clean. The salty flavor comes alive on my tongue and I savor the taste.

“I can take it.” And even if I can’t, I don’t mind if I die trying. It’s a good way to go.

“I sure as fuck hope so.”

He pulls me to him, and I brace myself for his mouth, but he lifts me into his arms and carries me across the room. My back hits the bed and I spread my legs, welcoming his weight between them. Grabbing my hands, he pins them over my head and takes my nipple between his teeth.

“You want to come, you keep your hands where they are,” he orders. It seems like an impossible task, but I jerk my head in agreeance anyway. His tongue flicks over my nipple teasing and taunting me all the same as his hands travel down my body, pushing my thighs even further apart.

The sweet scent of my arousal hits the air as his fingers glide up the seam of my sex.

“Pink and wet,” he praises before plunging deep inside. “Just fucking perfect.”

I arch off the bed, my fingers closing around the wrought iron bars of the headboard as I struggle to keep my orgasm at bay. But my senses challenge my efforts. The sound of his fingers pumping through my wet folds grows louder and the musky scent of sex filling the room intensifies. It’s erotic and almost enough to send me over the edge.

Ghost senses it too.

“Hear that?” He grunts the question, his fingers moving in and out of me at a rapid pace. “That’s the sound of your greedy little pussy fucking my fingers.”

Yes.

Oh, God, yes!

He presses his thumb to my clit, and I feel his hot breath against my ear. “So fucking wet, Birdie. Dripping all over my fingers. Gonna lather my dick, aren’t you?”

A moan slips past my lips.

“I’m gonna come,” I cry.

Fast and harder than I’ve ever come before.

“No,” he growls, curling his fingers inside me. “Not until you get my cock.”

I clench around his fingers and grit my teeth.

“Then give it to me.”

“Not yet.”

“You’re a sadist,” I spat, loosening my hands around the bars.

“No truer words have ever been spoken,” he says, pulling his fingers out of me. “Where do you think you’re putting those hands of yours?”

---