Page 18 of His Secret Toy
His hand slowly drags the zipper down my back and the dress falls to the floor.
I’m still facing the mirror, bare now. My skin flushes under his stare.
“Very good,” he says. “Now take it.”
He pushes me forward gently and bends me at the waist. My hands meet the mirror. His mouth finds the base of my neck first, and next my shoulder. His teeth scrape against my skin.
He doesn’t bite right away. He licks first, then nips. Then he sucks deep until I can feel the skin bruising under his mouth.
I gasp.
His hand reaches between my legs, slides my panties down. He doesn’t ask or pause. He marks me once more, lower this time—at the
top of my thigh, high enough no one else will see it.
He grips my hips and pulls me back onto him with no teasing or warm-up.
His cock pushes inside in one long thrust, and I break open. My forehead hits the mirror. I brace both hands flat against the glass as my body stretches to take all of him, and it still doesn’t feel like enough.
He stays buried deep, holds still for one long beat.
“Say it again,” he says behind me.
“I want your mark.”
“You have it.”
He turns my neck and presses me down as he nearly lies on top of me, charging at my lower, plump lips with a huge and hungry kiss. I groan and stutter, his kisses are more tooth and tip of the tongue, quick little bites, and feathery strokes.
I shriek against his mouth and he presses his entire tongue to the large pucker sliding it up and down, around. My body bucks when he
releases it. Both of my hands rip at his hair, struggling to pull my mouth from his.
My breath abruptly hitches as he grips my chin and thrusts his tongue deeper. I choke as he pushes it deep, forcing me to part my jaws further, stretching me.
Finally he backs off, and my mouth gasps for air. His hot, spittle-soaked face bears down on mine, and I surrender to the inevitable and swallow his spit, feeling it slide down my throat.
I thank god that it has quenched my bone-dry mouth.
I am learning to not try to scream when I'm being dominated by him. But, this time is different as I feel like I'm drowning and cry out for breath.
He thrusts at last, hard enough to make the glass tremble. My cry fogs the mirror in front of me. I don’t wipe it as I want to see what I look like when I come apart like this.
He pulls out, then drives back in deeper and rougher. My hips slap against the mirror each time he moves. I can’t catch my breath. I don’t want to.
One of his hands snakes around my front. His fingers find my clit and press hard.
I almost collapse.
My knees give, but he holds me up. One arm wraps around my waist, and the other keeps me pinned between him and the glass while he keeps working my body like he owns it.
He does.
His teeth find my shoulder again. The stinging sensation breaks my skin and sends me spiraling into pure bliss. His hips continue thrusting into me violently, and my nails dig into his back, drawing blood.
I scream, not giving a fuck who hears as I come shaking, sobbing into the mirror.
And he doesn’t stop. Instead, he bites harder and fucks me through it. His rhythm stays hard and fast until he roars into my neck, biting as he unloads into me, sending me over the edge.
