Page 15 of Claimed By the Panda
“In a sensible, non-psycho way.”
“Just say you want my dick to split you open, little slut. Please.” He swallowed. “Or, I mean, not. Like I could stop. I have self-control.”
I surged up and kissed him, nipping at his bottom lip. “You don’t have to use self-control with me.”
“I’m fucking using it right now. So much self-control. You have no idea.”
I giggled. “Well, maybe it’s time to let go and fuck me, then.”
His eyes were on mine, intense and focused in a way I didn’t think I could look away from if I tried, as he shifted forward, teasing my hole with the head of his cock, circling my entrance and pressing just a little inside.
“Breathe,” he commanded softly, one hand stroking my thigh while the other guided his cock. “Relax for me.”
I forced myself to exhale as he pressed forward, the pressure building until suddenly the head popped past the tight ring of muscle. We both gasped. The stretch was intense, burning in a way that walked the perfect line between pleasure and pain.
“Fuck,” I breathed, eyes wide as I watched my body yield to him. “I think I love having cock inside me.”
“You love having my cock inside you. Only mine.” He stroked my cock slowly, helping me adjust, making sure I felt good. “You’re so fucking tight, Cody. So perfect around me.”
He inched forward gradually, giving me time to adapt to each new stretch. When he finally bottomed out, I felt impossibly full, completed in a way I’d never experienced. He stayed still, pulsing inside me, his face a mask of concentration.
“Move,” I begged, rolling my hips experimentally. “Please, Jian.”
He started slow—shallow thrusts that gradually deepened as I opened for him. Each stroke sent sparks of pleasure up my spine, his cock dragging against my prostate in a way that made me see stars. I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist.
“This is fucking mine,” he growled, his pace increasing. “My tight little hole. No one else has had the privilege of seeing you beg like a sweet little slut.”
“Just you,” I agreed, lost in the sensation. “Only a slut for you.”
He gripped my hips hard enough to leave bruises, using the leverage to drive deeper. The slap of skin against skin echoed in the small room, mingling with our gasps and moans. My cock bounced between us, untouched but leaking continuously.
“Touch yourself,” Jian commanded, his rhythm faltering. “Want to feel you come on my cock?”
I obeyed, wrapping my hand around myself and stroking in time with his thrusts. The dual stimulation was overwhelming—his cock stretching me open, my hand working my length, his eyes devouring every reaction on my face.
“I’m close,” I warned as pressure coiled at the base of my spine. “Jian, I’m going to—”
“Do it.” He slammed into me harder. “Come for me, Cody.”
My orgasm hit like a tsunami, tearing through me with such intensity that I sobbed. I clamped down on his cock as I came, painting my chest and stomach with thick ropes of white cum. Jian cursed, his thrusts becoming erratic as my body spasmed around him. I braced my hands on the stone behind me and slammed up into him, desperate to be filled again and again.
“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groaned. “Going to fill you up. Paint your insides with cum.”
“Please. I need it,” I begged, still riding the aftershocks of my own orgasm.
He buried himself to the hilt one final time, his whole body tensing as he came. I felt the heat of it filling me, the pulse of his cock as he emptied himself deep inside me. His face in that moment was breathtaking—all his guardedness stripped away,leaving only raw pleasure and something warm and almost sweet.
He collapsed against me, arms tightening around my waist, both of us breathing hard. After a moment, he carefully withdrew before helping me back into the hot water. My legs were too shaky to support me, and he coaxed me to collapse into his lap, burying his face against my neck.
“Stay another day,” he murmured against my ear, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Don’t go back to Reno yet.”
I turned in his arms to face him, surprised by the raw need in his eyes. This wasn’t part of our arrangement. This wasn’t fake anymore. I pressed my lips to his, tasting the salt of our exertion, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against my palm.
“I’ll stay,” I whispered against his mouth, sliding my arms around his waist. “I’ll call in sick.”
His whole body shook as I pressed closer, and something about his face made me forget all about my worries about getting home.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, I’m not leaving.”
