Page 28 of His Wisconsin Wallflower
So fucking sweet!
He leaned in and retied her wrists with practiced movements. Her breath caught, but she didn’t resist. She merely watched him with those blown, trusting eyes.
Quinten knelt between her thighs, positioning himself at her entrance, one hand braced beside her head. “Still good?”
She gave a breathless nod, pelvis lifting in silent plea.
His voice went low, coaxing. “Yeah, I’d like to hear the words.”
“Please, Quinten,” she whispered, breath shaking. “Take me.”
His name on her lips cracked something open inside him. He rocked his hips forward, easing into her inch by inch. She winced—God, she was tight—but he surged forward in one long agonizingly slow thrust, until their groins were flush together.
She gasped, and her muscles gripped him hard. He stilled, burying his face in her neck, whispering sweet nothings against her skin. “You’re so hot and tight… Oh baby, you feel so good. Can’t believe I’m finally inside you.” He kissed the shell of her ear, his breath ragged as he fought against the urged to pound into her. Her pussy was gripping him like a slick fist. Quinten stayed buried to the hilt, letting her adjust, holding himself still, even as every instinct screamed to move.
Her breath stuttered against his neck, and her body trembled beneath his from the overwhelming stretch of being filled so completely.
“Breathe for me,” he whispered, brushing his lips along her temple. “You’re doing so good, bright eyes. Just let go. I’ve got you.”
He felt the moment her muscles eased, and he kissed her mouth gently before pulling back, savoring the sucking of herwet pussy, until only the tip of his cock remained inside her. Then he slid back in with one long, controlled thrust.
Her head tipped back against the pillow, lips parting on a low moan.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let me hear you.”
He drew back, slow and steady, dragging himself through her body’s tight channel. The friction was mind-melting. He could feel every inch of her and how wet she was for him. He savored how she fluttered around his cock as he withdrew nearly all the way.
Then he sank back in, a little harder, watching her mouth part on a gasp. Her wrists flexed in the bindings above her head, but she didn’t pull away. Her legs trembled, still tied wide, every muscle straining toward him.
He set a slow rhythm, angling just right to hit her g-spot with every long, deep stroke. Each one made her hips lift, her breath catch, and her legs strain against the bindings. She felt like heaven, velvet heat wrapped around the head of his dick, and she clenched tighter every time he bottomed out.
His pace grew frantic, and he had to grip the bedsheet, fingertips digging in. He rolled his hips again, deeper this time, adjusting his angle until she moaned into his mouth. Her thighs shivered as he hit just the right spot, and her back arched, despite the bindings.
“There.” He dragged his tongue of the column of her throat. “That’s it. That’s where you need me, isn’t it?”
She whimpered in response, her hips trying to follow him when he pulled back again. He gave her more. Worked in and out of her in long, even thrusts that built slow pressure between them. Each time he filled her, he kissed a new place: her throat, the dip between her breasts, the swell of her shoulder.
Her fingers curled into fists, her breathing ragged.
“That’s it, bright-eyes,” he whispered, lips at her ear. “Take it. Let me give you everything.”
Her entire body tightened beneath him, every nerve lit up. He felt her flutter around him, building again. Slow strokes turned deeper. More precise. Controlled, but barely. And fuck—he was already fighting the edge.
The half gasps, half helpless whimpers she made fueled the fire building in his spine, but he didn’t rush. He wasn’t ready to give into his body. Not with her looking at him like that.
He kissed her again, devouring the sound of her pleasure.
“You feel like you were made for me,” he growled against her lips. “Perfect fit. Fuck, Raisa—look at me.”
Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and wide, and when their gazes locked something clicked into place.
He thrust deeper, harder now, letting the edge of his control slip. Her back arched, and her breath hitched.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” she chanted. “Please... don’t stop.”
He wasn’t going to. Not until she shattered around him again. Not until she knew—without a single doubt—how much he wanted her.
He adjusted his weight, his left hand braced beside her head, the other curling under her ass, tilting her just right. At the next thrust, he hit her clit. The change sent her breath hitching, her eyes flying open, her gaze—darkened—with need fixed on his.
