Page 45 of Pucking Unhinged
I force my hand away, sliding down, fingertips grazing the inside of her thigh. Up and down. Teasing. Her reflection’s eyes are wide, pleading, but I hold her steady against me, my palm settling firm on her leg. I wrap my fingers around her thigh, squeezing, feeling the soft, but firm muscle she’s achieved through such hard work.
I have a plan, something I’ve always wanted. I’ve imagined this very thing a thousand different ways over the years. It’s something I’ve waited too long to tell her I want.
Winter’s reflection trembles in front of me, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, eyes already glassy with need. I keep my hand firm on her thigh as I nudge her closer to the barre, then lift her leg, setting it carefully across the polished wood.
The move opens her up to me, pink and glistening in the mirror. My breath tears out of my chest, rough, guttural. “Fuck,” I groan, dragging my gaze from between her legs back up to her eyes in the mirror. She smiles prettily at me, shifting her foot that’s on the ground and leaning back into me to relax like I want her to. “You’re perfect. Do you know that? My perfect girl.”
I slide my fingers against her sweet pussy, just a gentle stroke at first. I’m enjoying watching the way her mouth parts, the way her lashes flutter closed in pleasure. I sink inside her slowly, curling my fingers, savoring the way her tight heat pulls me deeper. My girl whimpers, her body jerking against me, and it’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.
I keep my eyes locked on Winter’s in the mirror as my thumb finds her clit, circling soft at first, then with more pressure when her hips start chasing my movements. “That’s it,” I murmur against her ear, my breath hot against her neck. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you come all over my fingers.”
Her body tightens, her whimpers turning frantic, and I press harder, working her clit while my fingers curl inside her. I can feel her walls clenching, desperate, begging as my other hand slides up to cup her breasts. I love the way her nipples instantly harden even more than they already are when I touch them with my fingers or mouth.
I grind against her ass, my cock straining, and whisper, “I want you to watch it, dushen’ka. I want you to watch in that mirror when my cock disappears inside this tight little hole. Do you want that? Do you want to watch me fuck you?”
Her voice breaks on a plea, “Yes, Tristan, please,” before she shatters, her pussy convulsing around my fingers. The sound of it, the sight of her reflection falling apart in front of me, it utterly destroys me. I hold her through it, working her gently, wringing every last tremor from her until she’s shaking in my arms.
Winter is still trembling when I turn her head gently, but firmly enough that she knows I fucking need this right now. I claim her mouth. My kiss is hungry, desperate, but I slow it down, licking into her like I have all the time in the world. Her lips part for me, soft and sweet, and I swear I could die right here with her taste on my tongue.
I drag kisses down her jaw, to the spot under her ear, the curve of her neck. I lick, suck, breathe her in, and whisper against her skin, “I love you. I love you so fucking much.” The words spill out over and over, because I can’t stop saying them. Because she needs to hear them as badly as I need to let them out.
My hands roam everywhere, palming her breasts, stroking down her belly, gripping her hips like I’ll never let her go. Because I fucking won’t and she knows it. I can tell she knows every single thing I’m feeling right now. Winter arches into me, every small sound she makes ripping through my chest.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. My hand drops to my belt, my zipper rasping loudly in the otherwise quiet room. I don’t strip, because I don’t want to give her the chance to come down from the high of her orgasm. I just pull my cock free, hard and aching and ready to be buried to the hilt inside of her.
I press the head against her soaked pussy, sliding along her folds, teasing. The sight of us together like this in the mirror nearly does me in. I could come just at the sight. Her body spread open for me, flushed and wanting, perfect in every fucking way. “Look at you,” I groan, rubbing slow circles with the crown of my cock. “You’re mine. You were made for me, dushen’ka.”
I line up and push, sinking in slowly, inch by inch, every muscle in my body straining with control. Winter is so impossibly tight, especially in this position, gripping me like she doesn’t want to let me go. My head falls back, a curse tearing out of me, but I keep watching her in the mirror, can’t look away from the way she takes me.
She whines, pressing back into me, her voice breaking, begging, “Don’t stop, Tristan. Please keep going, you feel so good.”
And fuck, she feels phenomenal.
It’s the combination of Winter’s body against mine, every sound, every breath she’s taking that is making it harder to hold back. My hand is on her breast, kneading gently, my thumb flicking her nipple when she surprises me. Her delicate hand covers mine, guiding me higher.
Up her chest, over her collarbones.
Until my palm rests around her throat.
My pulse slams. Instinct takes over, my fingers tightening just enough, a gentle squeeze. Her eyes flutter closed, lips parting with the softest moan.
My girl likes everything that I like, and we haven’t even talked about it or discovered it on our own. It’s instinct, just feeling out what we love and exploring that together.
A growl scrapes up my throat as I drive into her harder, my cock sinking deep, relentless. Her reflection is a mess in the mirror, cheeks flushed, neck in my grip, body taking everything I roughly thrust into her.
I bend low, my mouth against her ear, whispering through the ragged drag of my breath, “Do you like this, baby? Do you like when I’m in control?” I thrust harder, holding her still, keeping her exactly where I want her. “Do you like how I hold you like I’m never letting you go?”
Her whine is broken, needy, desperate. “Yes…”
The sound of it makes my cock twitch violently inside her, a jolt of possession I can’t contain. My hold on her neck stays firm but careful, and my cock thrusts deeper somehow. Because she’s mine, and she just told me she loves it when I prove it. She’s whimpering, gasping, her reflection a vision I’ll never get over.
“I like it too,” I groan, my voice rough, raw, dragging out of me from somewhere I can’t hide. My hips slam harder, my cock buried so deep inside her pussy when I feel her pulse around me. “I like being responsible for you. For your happiness. For your pleasure.”
Winter’s pussy clenches around me at my words, squeezing like she’s claiming me right back. My eyes roll up, a groan ripping from my chest, because I can feel the way she’s coming again, shuddering around me, milking my cock with every contraction.
My girl’s reflection is wild, undone, and all mine. I grit my teeth, knowing I’m not going to last much longer with her coming apart like this for me, begging me without even saying a word.
“Tristan,” she breathes, my name spilling out of her mouth like a heaven sent prayer.
