Page 15 of Stuffing My Obsession
“Fearless little thing,” I murmur, brushing my knuckles over her cheek.
Her lips part, a small shiver running through her, and I know she felt the weight of the praise.
“Then we do this right,” I tell her firmly. “You tell me if it’s too much. And we’ll pick a safe word.”
“A safe word?” she repeats, brows arched curiously.
“Something you can say if you want me to stop. No questions, no hesitation. I stop the second you say it.”
She thinks for a moment, then smiles faintly. “Pumpkin. Since it’s Thanksgiving.”
I huff out a laugh, shaking my head, and I can’t stop the grin tugging at my mouth. “Pumpkin it is.”
Her lips are still swollen from our earlier kisses, but I take them again anyway, deep and rough, my tongue claiming her until she moans into my mouth. I fist her hair, holding her head where I want it, kissing her until she’s gasping against me.
When I pull back, I grip her jaw, forcing her to look at me. “You said you want this. You want me to take control?”
Her blue eyes are wide, dilated with desire. “Yes.”
“Good girl.”
She shivers, and I feel it all the way down my spine.
I shift us so she’s lying flat beneath me, her wrists pinned above her head by one hand. My other hand trails down, slow,deliberate, brushing her ribs, her waist, lower. She writhes, trying to follow my touch, but I hold her still.
“Patience,” I rasp. “I give. You take. That’s how this works.”
She nods quickly, breathless.
I smirk, leaning down to bite her lip before sliding my hand between her thighs. She’s already wet, slick and hot against my fingers. “Fuck, Paris…you’re dripping. Just from me pinning you down.”
Her blush spreads across her chest, but she doesn’t look away. Instead, she whispers, “Because I like it.”
My cock throbs at her honesty. I slide two fingers into her, curling them until she cries out, her hips arching helplessly. I thrust slowly, dragging the pleasure out, watching her face as she fights to keep control.
When I pull my fingers free, glistening with her moisture, I bring them to her mouth. “Open.”
Her lips part instantly, and I slide my fingers in. She sucks, eyes closing, and I groan, nearly undone at the sight.
“Good fucking girl,” I growl, yanking them free and crashing my mouth against hers again.
She gasps when I flip her over onto her stomach, tugging her hips up. My hand comes down hard on her ass, the sound sharp in the silence. She squeaks, twisting to look back at me.
“Too much?” I ask, my tone sharp but my gaze steady.
Her lips part, breathless. “N-no.”
“Safe word, Paris. Use it if you need to.”
She swallows, then shakes her head. “Pumpkin.” She says it softly, testing.
I stop immediately, my hand firm on her hip. “That’s your line?”
She nods. “I just…wanted to make sure.”
The pride that swells in me is almost unbearable. She’s fearless, testing me, testing us. I bend, kissing the back of her neck. “You did good. Always stop me if you need to. Understand?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
