Page 74 of Cold as Stone
He lines himself up, the head of his cock pressing hot and heavy against my entrance.
“You ready?” he asks. “You sure?”
“Please,” I whisper. “I want to feel all of you.”
He rolls a condom on then pushes in. I gasp as the stretch begins—my body yielding, molding around him inch by aching inch. It’s too much and not enough, pressure building, nerves firing, pleasure and pain tangled into something deliciously unbearable.
“Jesus,” he groans, jaw locked tight, sweat beading at his temples. “You’re so fucking tight. I can feel your pussy gripping every inch of me.”
My breath stutters, head falling back, and he doesn’t stop until he’s fully seated—hips flush with mine, the heavy weight of him pressing deep and perfect.
We stay there, locked together, panting. The fullness is dizzying. Intimate. Devastating.
“You feel like fucking heaven,” he whispers, forehead pressed to mine. “Like you were made for me.”
Then he pulls back—just a fraction—and slams in hard.
I scream.
Again.
Again.
His hips snap forward with a savage rhythm, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, sending wet, obscene sounds echoing through the room. The slap of skin against skin, our broken moans. It’s raw, primal, feral.
He grabs my thigh, throws my leg over his shoulder, and the angle—fuck—it’s everything. His cock hits that devastating spot inside me with ruthless precision.
“Oh god—Lee—right there—right there?—”
“Yeah?” His voice is wrecked, breathless. “You like getting fucked on this bar like my personal fucktoy?”
“Yes,” I gasp, wild. “Yes, I’m yours—I’m fucking yours?—”
He drives in harder, deeper. “Say it again.”
“I’m yours, Lee,” I cry. “Yours. Yours. Yours.”
He growls, grabs my jaw, and forces my gaze up to meet his. His eyes are wild, dark with possession and something deeper—reverence. Like he can’t believe he gets to have me like this.
“Look at me when you come,” he commands. “I want to watch you fall apart.”
His thrusts become erratic, deeper and sharper, every stroke pushing me closer to the edge.
“I can’t—Lee—please?—”
“Yes, you fucking can.” His thumb finds my clit and circles. “Come for me. Now.”
And I shatter.
The orgasm tears through me like a tidal wave—full-body, toe-curling, so violent I scream. My muscles clamp around him, wet and pulsing, and he fucks me through every second of it like a man possessed.
My vision blurs. My ears ring. I’m wrecked, completely and utterly.
That’s all it takes.
“Fuck—fuck, Kya—” Lee snarls, pulling out at the last second. He tears the condom off then pumps his cock once. Hot, thick ropes of cum spill across my belly and thighs as he curses, muscles tensed, back arched like a bowstring snapped taut.
We collapse into each other, chests heaving, bodies trembling. The air around us is hot and thick, heavy with sex and sweat and everything we didn’t say but just proved with skin.
