Page 74 of The Toy Collector

Upon arriving at her bedroom, I linger in the doorway, captivated by the sight of her peaceful slumber. Her arm is casually flung above her head, and her lips are gently parted.

She lets out a soft snore and wiggle, unknowingly kicking more of her sheet off. Her body is sprawled out at the center of the bed, like she’s subconsciously waiting for someone she doesn’t know is already here.

I suppress a moan when I realize my toy’s completely naked. Fuck, she looks good enough to eat.

Her tits rise and fall like she’s panting for it, even in her sleep. Her waist… fuck! That little curve is just begging for my hand to wrap around it while I take her from behind.

I lean over her sleeping form, my fingers trailing along her smooth skin, tracing a path from her slender ankle up to her hip. She stirs slightly, and a breathy sigh escapes her. She doesn’t know it yet, but her body does. It obeys me now. I’ve trained it without even fucking her. And that kink list just proves it; my toy’s ready for me.

I slide my hand between her thighs, touching the heat that belongs to me. My fingers find her clit instantly. She sighs, soft and sweet, her hips shifting under my touch like her body knows exactly who’s touching her.

That’s it, Toy. Even asleep, your cunt knows who owns it. With careful precision, I move two fingers between her folds, feeling the slickness as I ease them slowly into her waiting cunt.

“You’re drenched for me,” I groan.

I curve my fingers just the way she likes, and quicken my pace. When her body reacts, hips rising to meet my hand, and her breath hitches, I pause, watching her face for any sign of wakefulness, but her eyes remain closed.

“Such a perfect fucking toy,” I murmur, my voice dark and reverent.

My hand doesn’t slow as I work her body like I own every twitch, every gasp. I grind the heel of my palm against her clit in slow, punishing circles, watching her body obey me.

As her legs start to tremble, I withdraw my fingers and lick them clean. Fuck, I’ll never get enough of tasting her cunt.

“You don’t get to come yet,” I whisper as I shift to the foot of the bed.

Moving her with me without waking her up is no simple task, but I manage. She’s still sleeping as I fall to my knees, my hands cradling her thighs, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my touch.

I position myself between her thighs, taking a deep breath, savoring her overwhelming scent. Fuuuuuck!

I drag my tongue over her slick folds, loving the taste of her that now coats my mouth. I moan against her pussy, starving for more. It doesn’t matter how long I eat her cunt, my hunger’s carved from her now, and no amount will ever be enough.

Her hips roll, desperate little pleas written in muscle and instinct. That pussy is begging for my tongue in her dreams. I flick my tongue over her clit in sharp, punishing strokes. She twitches with every pass, her body reacting like I’ve wired her nerve endings to my mouth.

“Mhmm,” I groan.

Her breathing stutters into whimpers—needy little sounds that curl in her throat like she’s begging in her sleep. Fuck. My toy’s dreaming of me, I’m sure of it.

I keep going, relentless and ravenous, until she moans and her body snaps tight like it’s beginning to break. Her legs shake, and then she comes hard for me, soaking my tongue in sleep-drunk surrender.

Even unconscious, she knows who she fucking belongs to. What a good fucking toy.

After pressing one last kiss to her swollen clit, I rise. My hand goes to my zipper, undoing my pants. The fabric parts and my cock springs free—hard, heavy, aching for her.

I wrap a hand around it, squeezing tight, not to tease but to anchor. To keep myself from doing what every cell in my body is screaming for.

Even though I know I’m pushing it, I crawl onto the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under my knees as I position myself between her parted legs. I grasp my hardness, aching and heavy with need.

Then I rub her wetness all over my hardness, coating myself in her arousal. The sensation is overwhelming, sending a jolt of pleasure up my spine, making my eyes flutter closed and my teeth grit with restraint.

Swallowing down another groan, I continue to rut against her. I fuck her thighs, her folds, anything but her cunt. And with each thrust, the tip grazes her clit, sending ripples of pleasure through us both.

“You’d fucking love this if you were awake, wouldn’t you? Being used like this. Painted in it,” I rasp. It takes all my self-control to resist the overwhelming urge to plunge into her. “Fuck. You’re already ruining me, Toy. And you don’t even fucking know it.”

It feels like it’s madness that keeps me here. Every stroke against her slick cunt is a dare to lose control. I tell myself I’m in charge, but the truth claws at my spine. She’s a fucking gravity well, pulling me deeper. And the worst part? I want it. Want her to hollow me out. To ruin me from the inside out.

“Fucking hell,” I grunt, rutting harder.

A surge of tension grips me, a visceral tightening deep within me. I pull back and angle the tip toward her mound just in time.

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