Page 198 of By A Thread
He was growling against my pussy, fucking me with his tongue and fingers, and I was a blithering mess, melting on paperwork that hopefully wasn’t important.
The first ripple caught me by surprise. I was so close to coming already. The man was a maestro. An expert. A damn magician, producing orgasms with a casual flick of his wrist.
He groaned, tongue pausing its delicate assault.
“Don’t come,” he ordered.
“Uh, then you better stop what you’re doing right now,” I gasped.
He stood, his desk chair slamming into the shelves behind his desk. He held me pinned to the desk with one hand on the center of my chest. The other he used to free his massive erection from his pants.
I hadn’t failed biology. I knew how dicks worked. But Dom’s seemed to grow thicker and longer every time it got near me.
“I want to feel you come on my cock. I want to feel those greedy squeezes when you fucking come, baby.”
Yep. Definitely almost dead in a train station. Real people didn’t talk like that. Real people weren’t desperate to get inside me. To fuck their way into my body.
But Dominic was.
His jaw was clenched as he fisted the shaft. Stroking himself, fucking his own hand, he brought the crown to where I needed him most.
He slid it in the same path his tongue had traveled. Back and forth, through my wet folds. My clit was tapping out an SOS, my core ached with emptiness.
He was leaking precum like it was a competitive sport. And I. Was. Here. For. It.
On the next slick slide, he kept going, the tip of his dick parting my ass cheeks, pausing to tease me at that opening.
“Not without lube, buddy.” I shuddered the words out. The fact that he wanted to touch me everywhere made me excited about being touched everywhere. “And remember, I get my shot at you.”
“Fuck, Ally,” he groaned.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Fuck Ally. Now.”
He hinged forward, lining up the blunt head of his cock with my entrance. He bit my nipple, and I shivered.
“I love your tits, baby.”
“Love them with your cock in me.”
He was fully clothed. His pants were undone only far enough to get his cock out to play.
I loved it. I loved that he wanted me this fiercely.
Without warning. Without the finesse I’d barely had time to grow accustomed to, Dom thrust into me, holding my legs open at the knees. I really, really needed to work on my hip flexibility.
His groan was long and victorious. I spent another ten or twenty seconds arching off the desk in a silent scream of ecstasy. “I’m not going to last long. Not with you squeezing the life out of me with that pretty pink pussy,” he warned.
“Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Dom.”
He pumped into me without regard to items falling off his desk and crashing to the floor. “That’s my girl. I feel you fighting it.”
It was true. I was running away from the orgasm just so I could greedily be fucked a little longer.
But Dom wasn’t having any of it. He pinned my hips to the desk and rutted into me. “Come. Now.”
I opened my mouth to tell him that it doesn’t work that way. That women don’t just magically come on command because a hot guy tells her to. But I was too busy writhing under him as he ground against me, driving me straight off the edge of the cliff and into a nuclear detonation. I felt it in my toes. The roots of my hair. My entire being quivered and clenched and came.
He was there. He was with me. Pumping into me, coming so hard he was grunting gutturally on every wet thrust that wrenched more from him.
