Page 41 of The Toy Collector

“Y-you.”

I palm her ass, tenderly stroking the skin. “And are you trying with anyone else?”

“No,” she hisses. “I’m not a fucking slut.”

Tilting my head to the side, I push my fingers inside her again. “Aren’t you? You indulged in sexual activity in exchange for your internship. Isn’t that what a slut does? Sexual favors for payment?”

She hisses, a low, vicious sound. “I. Am. Not. A. Slut!”

I tisk. “I think you’remyslut, Piper.” I curl my fingers and pump them in and out until she’s wiggling against them, chasing her pleasure. “Good toys deserve to get what they want, but you’re not being a good toy right now.”

I don’t need to see her eyes to know she’s caught between want and possibly pride. I deliver a swift slap to her ass, sending a jolt of sensation through her body.

“Come on,” I taunt. “If you want to be sexually active, all you have to do is say so.”

She moans, a sound both primal and needy, as she writhes, her hips moving in a slow, deliberate dance against me. Her body undulates with fluid grace, each movement deliberate and sensual.

I pull my fingers out and stop touching her. Several moments pass before she finally gives in. “P-please,” she sobs. “I want… I want to come. I want… I am sexually active, okay? But only with you. I promise.”

Those words are fucking music to my ears.

“Go ahead, Toy. Rub that perfect cunt against my thigh. Show me how desperate you are,” I say, my low, husky words encouraging her.

I tense my thigh, muscles coiling and hardening beneath her, offering a firm surface for her to press against. The friction builds, each motion drawing her closer to the edge.

Her breath hitches, and a shiver of ecstasy courses through her as she reaches her climax. A guttural cry escapes her lips, echoing through the room like a primal symphony.

In that precise moment, I slide my fingers back into her eager core, curling them to caress the hidden pad of her G-spot. Her velvety walls clench around me, slick and inviting.

“Mhmm, your cunt is so hot and tight around me,” I growl, my voice hoarse with lust. “You’re clutching my fingers like you never want to let them go. I can’t wait to feel you stretch around my cock.”

I pump my fingers harder.

“To bury myself in your heat and lose all sense of where I end and you begin.” Her arousal coats my fingers, her desire perfuming the air like a potent aphrodisiac.

“Yes! Yes! Yes... oh my fucking… YES!” she screams, her voice filled with urgency and pleasure.

Myfingers move rhythmically, each motion deliberate and precise, drawing out her every response. My hardness is leaking, straining. I want to fuck her raw on this couch until she forgets her own name, but not yet.

As I continue, I whisper a litany of desires, painting vivid images with my words, each one a promise of the pleasures yet to come.

“I’m going to bend you over every surface, fuck you in every hole. Oh, my perfect little toy, you’re going to be such a slut for me, aren’t you?” Her every gasp and shiver tells me all I need to know.

When she’s no longer coming, and her pussy releases my fingers, I don’t hesitate in bringing them to my mouth, licking them clean. Her mouth pops open, and she turns her head.

“What are you doing?” she asks, sounding like she doesn’t believe whatever conclusion she’s come to in her head.

“Licking your taste from my fingers,” I reply, shooting her a wicked grin she can’t see.

“Oh…” That’s all she says.

“Cat got your tongue, miss smart-mouth?” I tease.

Turning on my lap, she smiles sweetly as she brings her index finger to her lips, and the sight makes me growl low in my throat when her tongue darts out, snaking around the tip of her finger.

“You have no idea how smart my mouth is,” she purrs. “What I did at the interview was nothing more than a preview.”

“You’re killing me,” I groan, angling my hips so she can feel just how hard I am.

---