Page 38 of Little Paper Games
I felt one of Jude’s hands in my hair, his fingers twisting in the wavy strands lightly. My eyes met his again, and I nodded. The sound that came from his throat could have made me cum. Rich.
Deep. Dark. Needy.
His fist tightened, and he pulled my head back. Hard enough to let me know he was controlling it. Hard enough to let me know exactly who was in charge here.
I felt on fire.
My legs tried to move wider, and Jude lifted one over his thigh. I moved the other. As wide as possible, I stayed splayed open for him. For him to watch. His other hand moved between my legs, his fingers finding my wet heat and sliding inside.
“Fuck!” I cried out. My hips moved back and forth, wishing and praying for more. For less. For something.
“Please!” I pleaded. For what, I didn’t know.
“Please what?” he growled against me almost chuckling at my whimpering need. His cock was hard, pressed into me and wet with pre-cum. I could feel it against my skin.
“Please,” I whimpered.
“No.”
That one word should have stopped me. Sent me reeling. My breath came faster, and my heart thudded quickly against my ribcage.
“I…” I stammered out, no longer knowing up from down, left from right.
“Not yet.” His fingers tugged a little harder on my hair, making my back arch further. I saw myself in the mirror, splayed open, dripping wet, and arched for his pleasure. I felt on fire with the heady feel of it all.
“Please,” I groveled. My voice differed from the woman on screen in every way. Where hers was whiny and high pitched, mine was low. Primal. Needy. For him. For Jude.
“Not. Yet,” he ground out through clenched teeth. I felt my orgasm tremble, barely held in check on the precipice of climax. I tried to hold back.
“Jude…” my voice keened.
“Now!” he growled. His teeth found my shoulder and bit down hard until I swore, he would find blood. Yet, somehow it only made me want him more. The pain of his bite and the vibration of his growling voice against my skin catapulted me into the biggest orgasm of my life.
The entire time, his eyes stayed locked on me.
The whole time, I arched, cried, and bucked up with need for him. For more of what only he could give.
The second my breath calmed, he flipped me around. I don’t know how. But suddenly I was straddling him, his cock so hard it was almost purple in the low light of the room.
He positioned me above him, and without preamble, pushed me down over his hard length. His rock hard, gloriously hard, length. My back arched as another orgasm tingled right on the edge again.
I felt stretched. I felt open and vulnerable. I felt needy and filled.
This. This was what I’d been craving this whole long week.
My hands found his shoulders as I began to rock. It didn’t matter that had little to no experience. I just moved with him, letting his hands move me and letting the feeling of him deep within me guide me towards another orgasm.
My knees shifted, taking him deeper. My back arched as I rocked. My eyes found his. I didn’t look away.
Each slide of his cock, pushing my pussy open wide made me gasp and groan. Each time my muscles clenched around him, he groaned and sighed.
It wasn’t fast.
It was perfect. Each of us hitting spots for the other that were needed so desperately.
His fingers dug into my hips again and I found myself praying to whatever god was out there for his marks again.
They’d made me feel well fucked and important. How fucked up was that?
