Page 129 of The Toy Collector

A second finger joins the first, and I curve them upward, searching for that spot that makes her… there it is. She moans around me, the sound muffled but unmistakable. Her thighs begin to tremble.

“That’s it,” I moan against her folds. “Come for me like a good toy. Drench my face.”

I increase the pressure, the speed, working her relentlessly toward her peak. Her movements become less coordinated as she loses herself in the sensation, but I don’t mind. I’m too focused on her pleasure, on the way her body responds to me.

When she comes, it’s with a sharp cry that she doesn’t bother to suppress. “Yes. Right there. Fuck!”

Her entire body goes rigid, then shakes, her cunt clenching around my fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through her. I keep licking, gentler now, drawing out her orgasm until she collapses forward, panting.

But she’s not done. After just a moment’s recovery, she takes me deep into her throat, swallowing around the head. The tight, rippling pressure is too much. I grip her hips hard enough to bruise as my own release builds rapidly.

When it hits, it’s like being struck by lightning—white-hot pleasure that travels from my balls up through my dick as I empty myself down her throat. She swallows everything, not pulling away until she’s milked me completely.

I expect her to roll off me, to collapse beside me on the couch. Instead, she slides down my body, still facing away from me, and grasps my softening cock. She strokes it against her slick folds, teasing us both until I begin to harden again.

“I want you inside me,” she rasps, her voice rough with desire.

She positions herself over me, guiding my dick to her entrance, and sinks down in one slow, deliberate motion. The sight of her taking me, her back a graceful curve, her ass pressed against my hips, is almost enough to make me come again immediately.

I grip her waist, helping her establish a rhythm as she rides me reverse cowgirl style, her body rising and falling with increasing urgency.

“Look at you,” I groan, watching the bounce of her ass. “Riding me like we’re still playing. You already fucking won, Toy.”

I squeeze her ass cheeks, loving the way they fill my hands, the way they bounce with each thrust. She whimpers when I spread them. I bring one hand to my mouth, sucking my middle finger until it’s slick with saliva, then return it to the cleft of her ass.

Then I circle her tight hole with the pad of my finger, applying just enough pressure to tease.

“You want me to fuck you here, don’t you?” I rasp. “Say it, Toy. Say you want me to fill this tight little hole.”

“Yes,” she moans, pushing back against me. “Please.”

I press my finger inside her ass, just past the first knuckle, feeling the difference in texture, in heat. Her moan is deeper this time, almost animal. I work my finger deeper as she continues to ride me.

“Not tonight,” I groan. “But soon, Toy. One day, I’m going to fuck this hole.”

The double penetration pushes her over the edge again—she comes with a broken cry, her inner walls clenching rhythmically around my cock, her ass tightening around my finger.

“Fuck,” I growl. “That tight little pussy’s milking me like it knows who owns it.” Watching her come apart is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

But I need more; I need to see her face. I lift her off me, ignoring the surprised yelp that turns to a moan before it finishes, and position her on her back on the couch.

I hook one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her fully to me, and surge forward into her heat. The new angle allows me to go deeper, to hit spots that make her gasp and clutch at my shoulders. I fuck her hard, with no restraint now, watching her tits bounce with each thrust.

She claws at my arms, her nails breaking skin, adding a sharp edge of pain to the overwhelming pleasure. When I kiss her, she bites my lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s savage. It’s perfect. It’s us.

I feel her tightening around me again, her third orgasm approaching. I reach between us to rub her clit, determined to make her come with me this time.

“That’s it. Fucking take it. Come for me like it’s the only thing you know how to do.”

She does, her entire body convulsing beneath mine, her nails digging deeper into my flesh. The sight of her—face flushed, eyes glassy, lips parted on a silent scream—pushes me over the edge.

“You were made for this,” I growl. “Made to take every inch. Every drop. No one else will ever get this.” I bury myself to the hilt inside her and let go, my release shooting into her in hot spurts as I growl her name like a prayer.

We collapse in a tangled sprawl on the couch—sweaty, breathless, wrecked. Her leg is draped over my hip, and my fingers are buried in her hair. For a long moment, neither of us speaks. We just breathe, the only sound between us the slowing cadence of two hearts finally syncing.

Eventually, I lift her into my arms, carry her to the bed like she weighs nothing. When she curls against me, head on my chest and fingers tracing patterns over my ribs, I know I’ll never love another thing the way I love this woman.

“I love you,” she whispers into the darkness.

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