Page 105 of The Persistence of Thornes
“Oh, God.” My back bows off the bed. Full. I’m so fucking full of him.
He grips my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t scream out for him. He’s not listening, but I am.” He releases me and cuffs my wrists, pinning them beside my head.
The move sends a thrill through me, making my breath catch.
He works himself in and out of me in a slow, measured rhythm, managing to rub against my clit every time he thrusts in, hitting me in all the right places.
In an embarrassingly short amount of time, I’m a panting, needy mess beneath him.
By the rigid set of his jaw and the tendons straining in his neck, he’s holding back. I don’t call him on it. Right now I’m not sure I can handle more. This moment is overwhelming.Heis overwhelming. I’ve never had sex with someone Icare about the way I do Caleb, and it’s far more transcendent than anything I’ve experienced.
Without slowing, he releases my hands and finds my clit. He rubs it in tempo with his strokes, sending me hurtling toward the edge.
“Caleb,” I whimper, head tipped back. “I’m gonna?—”
“Come, sweetheart. Show me how much this pussy likes my cock.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as pleasure thunders through me.
I think I scream “holy fuck,” but I can’t be sure. My entire being has reached a new plane.
It’s not that I’ve never had an orgasm, but for the most part, they’ve been self-induced, and the presence of this man—his thoughtfulness, his patience, his passion—magnifies the sensation tenfold. The way he touches my clit and whispers my name over and over again like I’m something to be worshipped only extends the pleasure.
As I return to this plane of existence, I force my eyes open and cup his jaw. The awe in his expression is enough to have me nearing that boiling point again. Though he’s stripped himself out of all of his clothes, the mask still covers the upper part of his face. I don’t know what it says about me that I find it so fucking hot, but I do.
Just drinking him in like this makes my core tighten.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses in response. “You feel like you’re ready to come again.”
I can’t respond. I’m incapable of proper speech at the moment. I’m purely moans and whimpers.
He pulls out of me and flips me over like a rag doll, pulling me up onto my knees and slamming back into me.
He fucks me hard and fast, murmuring words of encouragement as he does.
“Good girl. Fuck, you’re so fucking hot. I wish you could see how your pussy squeezes my cock. So perfect, baby. So fucking perfect.”
My body is still languid from my first orgasm, so I press my chest to the mattress and stretch my arms out in front of me.
“I’m close, baby,” he warns. “Think you can come again before I do?”
I mumble something likemaybe, but it’s followed byif I do, I might die.
“I think you’ll survive,” he promises, bowing over me. He winds a hand around my throat and positions me so my back is flush with his front as he pumps into me.
“Almost there, baby,” he croons. “God, you’re so fucking pretty. Are you gonna let me come all over you? Please say yes. Please.”
Oh, God.
Did he have to beg? And why is it so damn sexy?
The heat in my veins flashes. “Yes.”
He pulls my head back against his shoulder, his mouth finding mine, swallowing my cries as he works my clit and slams into me, sending a third orgasm barreling through me.
When I go boneless in his arms, he guides me back down onto the bed. I mewl in pathetic protest as he pulls from my body.
I can’t see him, but the sound of his hand working against his cock has my pussy clenching in need all over again. Hot streaks of cum hit my lower back and ass as his moans fill the room. My heart lurches at the sound. It may be the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.
