Page 120 of For the Plot
“Oh, that turns you on?” I chuckle darkly. “You like being used like that?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
I drag my cock through her drenched lips, slow and deliberate. “I want to fuck your ass one day,” I say, kissing her temple. “I want to stretch you open so slow you scream, make you come just from that.”
Her eyes go wide. “Reece?—”
“Yeah, baby. I want every inch of you. Every hole. Every fucking sound you make.”
I push into her again, slow this time, watching her fall apart inch by inch. She clutches the sheets, back arching.
“You’re mine,” I whisper, thrusting deep. “Mine to touch. Mine to fuck. Mine to break. And mine to put back together.”
Her eyes roll back. “You want that?” I ask. “You want to be mine like that?”
“Yes,” she whimpers. “Please.”
I slow down even more. Just rolling my hips. Dragging it out.
“You like when I take my time, don’t you?”
She nods.
“I want to eat your pussy every morning before you’ve even had coffee. I want to fuck you so hard in the shower you have to hold on to the tile. I want to make you beg, Skye. On your knees. With my cock on your tongue.”
Her moan is guttural now. I thrust deeper. Then still.
“You gonna come again?”
“I— God, I think so?—”
“You better,” I growl. “You don’t stop coming until I say.”
I fuck her through it again, slower, filthier, her body shaking with every pass. Then I flip her onto her stomach, slide in from behind, and press my chest to her back as I whisper in her ear, “I want to wake up with my cock still inside you.”
She shatters. Again. Louder this time. Her whole body convulses beneath me, her sobs of pleasure barely coherent. I hold her through it, fucking her deep until I come again with a groan that’s half relief, half possession.
I stay inside her. Wrapped around her. Breathing her in for several more minutes.
“I own you baby, forever,” I say, wrapping my arms around her as she melts against me.
Chapter 29
Skye
Iwake up sore.
Gloriously, exquisitely sore. My voice is half-gone. My entire body feels like it got caught in a hurricane of lust and filthy words and I never want the storm to end.
I stretch, then the smell of coffee hits me. Not just any coffee.Mycoffee.
The exact cinnamon blend I keep at my place, the one Reece always pretended not to notice I loved until now. I sit up slowly, every muscle deliciously sore. Between my thighs, I’m aching in that perfect way, the kind of sore that makes you smile even when you wince.
The sun is pouring through his windows, painting the sheets gold. The ones we ruined last night.
God… Last night.
My face flushes just thinking about the things he said, what he did to me. How he held me afterward like I was more than just his. Like I was…itfor him. The sound of his low voice carries from the kitchen, and a second later, he walks back in with two mugs.
