Page 206 of Sins of the Hidden

"Take it," I breathed against her ear, mask brushing her skin. I guided her hips up higher from the floor, changing the angle as she accepted the bat deeper. "Let me watch you open for me."

The bat pressed against her most sensitive spots, and her hips bucked wildly off the floor. Her spine twisted as overwhelming sensation coursed through her. A cry tore from her throat as her body fought between escape and surrender, grinding against the unyielding wood. Her breath hitched into a whimper, then a moan—long, ragged, the kind that bruised the quiet.

"Your cunt knows who it belongs to," I murmured, rotating the bat slowly inside her, watching her face contort with pleasure. "Just like every wall in this place."

Her muscles seized, thighs locking rigid. She forgot how to breathe, chest frozen mid-inhale. Her spine twisted against the floor as she clawed at the tile, toes curling. The wood stretched her pussy open, forcing her body to accommodate its unforgiving hardness.

"It's too much—" she gasped, words fractured as I rotated the bat inside her cunt. Her hips bucked involuntarily, her hand flying to press against her lower abdomen where she could feel the pressure.

I pressed a territorial kiss to her throat through my mask, taking in her rapid pulse. My hand slid around her hip, gripping tight, holding her still as I twisted and rocked the bat. Her body writhed beneath me on the floor, caught between escape and pushing back for more.

"You're doing well." My voice was low against her neck. "Taking everything I give you."

Her only answer was a desperate sob of pleasure, hips grinding helplessly against the floor. Her back arched sharply as I pushed the bat deeper, filling her inch by measured inch.

I tightened my grip on the bat, knuckles whitening as I rotated smooth wood inside her cunt. Her eyes, unfocused and vacant, communicated surrender. Her ass pushed up higher off the floor, thighs spreading wider as her body adjusted.

Her legs locked, heels scraping against tile as pleasure overwhelmed her. Her eyes widened, pupils expanding with shock and sensation.

The bat twisted deeper, and her words spilled out broken between gasps. "It scares me—" Her voice cracked as I rotated the wood inside her cunt. "—how much I need you." The confession hit different than her moans—raw honesty torn from her throat. Her eyes went wide, shocked at what she'd revealed.

I leaned down, my breath hot against her ear through the mask. "Good." The word vibrated against her skin as I pushed the bat deeper. "You should be."

She would never leave me. The certainty drove the bat deeper, twisting it inside her cunt. She shuddered, body convulsing around unyielding wood, whispering words like secret confession: "Then don't leave."

My hand adjusted its grip on her hip, making her shiver. Her hips jerked in an uneven rhythm against the bat, following each twist of my wrist, moans growing more desperate. Her breathing came in shallow bursts, chest heaving.

"Look how completely you surrender." I twisted the bat again, watching her face contort. "You'll stand behind this counter tomorrow pretending nothing happened—while you still feel me inside."

She shuddered violently, hands grasping uselessly at the floor, moans dissolving into soft, pleading sobs of pleasure. With calculated movements, I withdrew the bat again, trailing it down to tease along her inner thigh.

Her legs locked, tension rippling through muscle. The tendons in her neck stood out beneath skin as she threw her head back against the floor. A cascade of hair spilled around her head, ends dampened with sweat. Her cry filled the bakery as another orgasm overwhelmed her. Her legs gave a sharp shake, slick heat trailing down her inner thigh.

Her pussy quivered as I withdrew the bat's tip. Her entrance pulsed around nothing, stretched and glistening, still holding the shape I'd made of her. I spread her cunt open with my fingers, taking in the sight of her surrender—a vision that seared itself permanently into my memory.

I raised the bat, my tongue dragging across the grain, slow. "Can't waste a drop." I didn't stop until the taste was gone. Until she was under my tongue where she belonged.

Her hands faltered, nails biting into the tile like she needed it to stay upright, strength lost to aftershocks.

She started to collapse forward, legs giving out, and I caught her before she hit the flour-dusted tiles. My grip wasn't gentle. It was final. I pulled her up against my chest where I knelt and whispered against her hair,"You think we're done? I'm not done with you yet."

One-handed, I efficiently opened my jeans, the rasp of denim and metallic click of my belt buckle echoing in the silent bakery. My hard cock pressed against the slick heat of her pussy as I positioned her over my lap where I sat back against the lower cabinets.

I paused, hovering at the edge of taking her. The anticipation built between us, each second heightening eventual satisfaction. Her lungs hitched like she forgot how to use them, small whimpers escaping as she tried to press back against me.

"Say it like it's the only thing keeping you alive." My voice was rough against her ear.

She surprised me by reaching between us with trembling hands, her fingers wrapping around my cock with unexpected boldness. The remnants of powdered sugar on her palm created a silken friction. I watched as she took this small moment of power, her eyes showing satisfaction at having drawn a reaction. Her fingers stroked upward, deliberately slow, grip tightening as she reached the sensitive head.

Before taking her, I bent over her shaking form, inhaling her scent deeply. Not just her skin, but her sweat, her fear, her arousal—all evidence of how completely she belonged to me.

If I ever lost that scent—I'd lose myself with it.

I lifted her hips and thrust into her cunt, her inner walls gripping my cock like a vise. Her head dropped forward, hair sticking to sweat-slicked skin. Muscles rippled beneath her skin with each impact, her body surrendering to the brutal pace. She scraped helplessly at the floor with her fingertips, fighting to stay upright as I took every inch. My cock dragged along her soaked heat, each thrust met with velvet resistance, her cunt clinging like it knew I wouldn't stop until I broke her open.

She cried out sharply, the sound bouncing off the bakery walls and returning to us. "Louder," I commanded, my voice rough with satisfaction. I thrust deeper, deliberately angling to draw another cry from her lips. "I want to hear exactly what my cock does to you." I punctuated each word with sharp thrusts, burying my cock completely inside her cunt. "Don't you dare hold back those sounds. They belong to me."

Her nails dug desperately into the floor, leaving faint marks. Her body arched back against mine, spine bowing, pressing her ass more firmly against my hips, taking me deeper. The position allowed me to sink further into her, reaching places that drew strangled sounds from her throat.

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