Page 126 of Veil of Obsession
I find that spot inside her, the one that makes her body lock up and twitch. I grind my palm against her clit as I fuck her with my fingers, working her open, stretching her wide.
She writhes, moaning helplessly, hips bucking into my hand.
“I want you to come on my fingers,” I tell her. “I want to feel you squeeze them when you break.”
Her cunt spasms at that. Fucking clenches around me like it’s trying to drag me in to the wrist. She’s close—so close she can’t speak. Her head lolls, mouth open, thighs trembling.
“Come for me,” I growl against her ear, thrusting harder, deeper. “Let me feel how wet you can really get.”
And she does. Her whole-body jolts—hips bucking, cunt clenching down so tight on my fingers I groan. Her moan rips free from her throat like it hurts to hold it back. She breaks open on my hand, thighs shaking, pussy leaking all over my palm and wrist, soaking me.
I don’t stop. I fuck her through it, dragging every last twitch from her body, until she whimpers and gasps and collapses against the wall, boneless.
And then I drop to my knees.
Her legs are still shaking when I pull them over my shoulders, spreading her open. I tear the ruined panties off completely, shredded lace fluttering to the floor like ash.
Her cunt is right there. Wet. Red. Gleaming.
Mine.
I don’t tease. I dive in. My tongue drags up through her folds, slow and greedy, collecting everything she gave me. I lick her like I’m starving, like her pussy is the only thing that will ever satisfy me. I flatten my tongue and lap at her clit, then circle it, then flick it hard and fast until she jolts. Her fingers claw at my scalp, pulling me in closer, riding my face.
She’s moaning again—loud, wanton, broken.
I wrap my arms under her thighs and pull her tighter against my mouth, tongue fucking into her, tasting the sweetness and salt, the tang of her orgasm still coating her. I thrust my tongue deep, then switch to sucking her clit—hard enough to make her scream.
“Fuck, fuck, I’m—” Her voice shatters.
I slide two fingers back into her, curling them perfectly as I suck her clit like I’m trying to pull her soul out through it. Her walls pulse around me. Her hips jerk up, grinding against my face, and I let her. I let her use me.
She comes again. Harder this time. Her thighs clamp around my head, her back arches off the wall, her cunt gushes—slick and hot, soaking my chin, my tongue, my fingers still buried inside her. She sobs my name as she unravels, as she spasms, as her body goes limp in my hands.
I kiss her cunt one last time, slow and reverent, like a fucking benediction, then drag my tongue up her slit and suck gently on her clit until her whole body trembles like aftershocks.
Then I rise. Her eyes are glazed, her lips parted, cheeks wet with tears she doesn’t even know she’s shed.
She looks ruined. Holy. Possessed.
I press my mouth to hers and let her taste herself on my tongue.
“You’re not done,” I whisper against her lips, unbuckling my belt. “I haven’t even started.”
I spin her around and bend her over the back of the couch. Her ass curves up, perfect and red from my grip. Her cunt’s still twitching, dripping down her thighs. She spreads for me without being told, head low, ass high, ready to take whatever I give.
I line up and press the head of my cock to her entrance.
She shudders. “Do it.”
“You don’t want sweet?”
“No.” Her voice breaks. “I want you.”
I thrust in with one brutal stroke. She screams—half pain, half relief. The piercing drags through her like a live wire, scraping that spot that makes her legs buckle. I grip her hips hard, hold her steady, and slam into her again.
“You feel that?” I grunt, fucking her deep and fast. “Feel how the metal makes it worse? Makes it better?”
She can’t even speak. Just nods, moaning—each thrust punching another sound from her throat. The living room fills with the slap of skin, her wetness, the brutal rhythm of it.
