Page 146 of Bottle Shock
And fuck if it doesn’t drive me wild.
He rises up, sitting back on his heels and arranges me to turn on all fours, my knees on the mattress, palms flat, ass in the air.
His hands move over me, tracing my spine, my hips, the curve of my ass. I hear the sound of the bottle again, and then his fingers are back, warm and slick, working more lube over my hole, circling, easing, never rushing.
“Relax, baby. I’m going to go nice and slow.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, muscles loosening one slow inch at a time. He works his fingers in that same steady rhythm—patient and hypnotic—until the stretch stops feeling foreign and starts feeling good. Deep. Wanting.
My forehead drops to the mattress, a quiet sound falling from me before I can stop it.
“Ready?”
I nod, my breath coming in ragged.
He gives a light smack to one of my ass cheeks. “Use your words, starlet. I’m not claiming your ass and making that hole mine to fill until you tell me that you want this.”
“Yes.” I gasp, the anticipation building in me almost too much to handle. “Put your cock in me. Fuck my ass.”
“Fuck,” he murmurs. “The prettiest mouth full of the filthiest words.”
I hear the squeeze of more lube, feel the warmth of it flood my back entrance, before the head of his cock nudges ever so slightly.
He presses forward slowly—carefully—letting my body take him, letting me choose each inch. The stretch burns and blooms all at once, fullness building until my breath halts.
I gasp, fingers tightening in the sheets.
His forehead touches the center of my back, his breath warm and uneven against my skin.“You’re doing so fucking perfect.”
I swallow. “Move, Gavin. Please.”
There’s a sound from him before he pulls back and rolls his hips into mine, slow and deep. My whole body lights up, pleasure unfurling in one long, breathtaking sweep.
“Gav—” I choke out, everything inside me tightening, curling, reaching.
His grip on my hips firms, holding me right where he wants me. “Fuck,” he pants, voice frayed. “You’re stretched around my cock so well, your hole is gripping me like it never wants to let me go.”
I moan into the mattress, a deep guttural sound.
“I’ve got you,” he says right at my shoulder, his chestbrushing my back as he leans over me. His fingers find my clit, slow circles that sync with the lazy thrust of his hips.
A choked sound rips out of me.
The fullness behind me, the pressure of his fingers in my pussy—it’s almost too much. Too much in the exact right way. My legs tremble, my elbows give a little, my face dipping toward the mattress.
He follows, chest pressed to my back, his arm wrapping beneath me to hold me up.
“Stay with me,” he whispers, guiding my hips back into his every thrust, fingers still working me. “Let me have all of you.”
My fingers claw at the sheets, my body trying to curl in on itself, to contain the heat flooding through me. I try to breathe. I can’t. It’s too much. It’s good.
“Gavin—” my voice breaks.
“I know,” he says, like he feels every inch of it too. “This ass was made for me to ruin. And you’re loving every minute of it, aren’t you?”
His hips pick up the pace just slightly—not fast, just deeper, more deliberate—his fingers matching it, circling, pressing, until my thighs start to shake.
“Yes—” I gasp, voice barely a sound.
