Page 28 of Stuffing My Obsession
He lets out a low moan, and in the next heartbeat the blindfold is ripped away. His eyes burn into mine, raw and possessive, as he tosses the wand aside and frees himself.
“Then take me,” he snarls, pushing into me in one deep and brutal thrust.
I spiral, pleasure tearing through me like wildfire. He continues to fuck me hard and fast, his body driving into mine, his lips claiming every moan, every cry, every broken whisper of his name.
The first climax rips through me so hard I see white. I grind my teeth, the cuffs biting into my wrists, as my body writhes with the weight of my orgasm.
But he doesn’t stop.
He continues to pound into me, relentless, riding my orgasm until I’m trembling, spent. “You’re not done,” he growls againstmy throat, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. “Not until I say you’re done.”
I whimper, shaking my head, but the truth is my body is already begging for more. My walls clench around him, greedy, aching.
“You think you can hide it from me?” he rasps, pulling out just long enough to slap my thigh, the sharp sting making me jolt. “This pussy was made for me. You love when I push you past your limits.”
“Yes, Sir,” I whisper, because it’s true.
God, it’s true.
He pulls back, thrusts deep again, and my legs shake with the force of it. My body screams from the overstimulation, but pleasure builds anyway—wicked, unbearable pleasure that sends me spiraling right back toward another peak.
When it hits, it’s violent. My head falls back, my voice cracking into a sob as I come again, harder, wetter, my body giving everything it has.
Even then, Myles doesn’t give me a chance to catch my breath. His hand snakes down, thumb pressing to my clit, rubbing in tight, ruthless circles. My thighs slam shut against his hips but he just pries them open wider, caging me with his body.
“No,” I gasp, shaking my head. “Too much—”
“Are you using your safe word?” His voice cuts sharp through the haze, but I’m too far gone to comprehend his words.
“Red?” he prompts, eyes blazing down into mine.
I can barely think through the fog of sensation, but I know I’m not breaking. Not yet.
“Not yet,” I gasp. “I—I can take it.”
He stills instantly, easing the pressure, kissing my temple. “Good girl. That’s it. Breathe.”
My lungs heave as I blink back tears, the line between pain and bliss razor-thin. He strokes my hair, murmuring low praise. “So beautiful. So strong for me. My perfect little wife.”
When my trembling steadies, he smirks, eyes dark with satisfaction. “You’re not done yet.”
God help me, my body clenches in anticipation.
He flips me onto my stomach, the cuffs biting into my wrists as he pulls me onto my knees. His hand fists in my hair, arching my back, exposing me fully. The position is filthy, degrading…perfect.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, sliding back into me with one brutal stroke. “Bent over, cuffed, dripping down your thighs. You were made to take me like this.”
He increases his pace, his thrusts wringing harsh cries from my throat. My knees slip on the sheets, tears spill from the corners of my eyes, but I don’t want him to stop.
“Myles…oh, baby,” I moan breathlessly.
He yanks my head back against his shoulder, his mouth devouring mine. “Come again,” he orders.
I shatter for the third time, my scream swallowed by his kiss, and then my body gives out, collapsing against the bed.
Finally, he releases my wrists, tearing off the cuffs. He flips me over, gathering me in his arms and entering me again, my breasts pressed tightly against his chest. After just a few moredesperate thrusts, his own climax rips through him. He lets out guttural, almost animalistic groan as he empties inside me, grinding deep until every drop is claimed.
The room smells like sweat and sex, the sheets damp and tangled, my body a trembling wreck in his arms.
