Page 31 of The VIP Package

Gritting my teeth, I watch the head of my cock slip inside her. She’s so fucking tight I can’t stand it. She plays like that for a while, dipping me into her slick little center, then sliding meout again. She sinks back down, letting one inch of me feel the squeeze of her channel before retreating.

“Are you trying to torment me?” My voice sounds strangled and thick.

Her smile looks a little bit dazed. “If it’s any comfort, I’m tormenting myself, too.”

“Why would that comfort me?”

“Isn’t it fun sometimes?” She moans as she rubs the head of my cock over the nub of her clit. “A little torture to make bliss feel even better.”

That had never occurred to me before.

Camille coats my cock in her arousal, circling, teasing, not quite sinking down on it. I’m like her personal sex toy, letting her use me like a tool.

A tool that’s nearing its breaking point.

“When you’re done playing,” I bite out, “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t walk right for a week.”

“Oooh, threats.” She sounds delighted.

“Not a threat. Just a promise.”

She glides me back to her entrance, hazel eyes dancing with pleasure. Holding my gaze, she sinks down another slick inch. “God, you’re thick.” She groans as she eases me deeper.

I let go of her hip and move my hand to the front of her body. With the pad of my thumb slick with her juices, I massage that sensitive nub.

“Fuck,” she cries out as her pussy walls clench me. “How are you so good at that?”

“Rubbing your clit?”

She gasps as I do it again. “Knowing exactly how to touch me when—” Another sharp gasp splits her sentence in half. “When we just fucking met.”

Making her melt like candle wax leaves me feeling powerful and in-charge. I like it way more than I should. “I can make youcome anytime I want,” I breathe against her neck. “Shall I show you?”

“Oh, God.” She tips her head back, starting to ride me with vigor. “Why does this feel so good?”

I don’t have an answer, and I’m not sure she wants one. But she sounds so surprised that I wonder.

Does whatever’s between us feel as glorious to her as it does to me?

“Camille.” I can tell by the squeeze of her body that she’s close. “Come for me.”

She lets out a guttural moan. Thin cords of tendon strain in her throat, almost like she’s fighting it. Is she trying to show I can’t control her?

“Look at me, Camille.”

She opens her eyes. They’re blazing with need, with defiance and so much desire.

“I want you to come on my cock.” I tilt up my hips to search for it. For the angle that hits her sweet spot.

The second I graze it, her eyes open wide. “Oh, God,” she cries out as I thrust up and hit her G-spot again.

“That’s it,” I growl. “Let go—let me feel it.”

She gives a scream that spurs animal sounds from the jungle. Monkeys and toucans and maybe a cry of my own. I’m not sure she hears it. Or hears my sharp curse as I surrender to my own fierce explosion.

“Jesus Christ.” I moan as she pistons her hips, riding the waves of her pleasure and mine. We’re coming together again, a synchronized burst that goes on for decades as I pump the sweet vise of her sex.

Camille pitches forward, collapsing onto my chest. “Good God,” she mumbles, spitting hair from her mouth. “I don’t understand why it’s that good.”

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