Page 45 of Savage in the Streets
She goes to her knees, her emerald greens never breaking eye contact as she swirls her tongue around my bulging head, making a show of licking up my precum.
I struggle against the cuffs, wanting to push her down as she takes my throbbing member past her lips. Lower. Deeper. So fucking close to the base.
No other woman has ever taken so much of my length in before, and holy fuck, I’m about to lose my damn mind.
Elicit moans escape her throat. Reverberating over my shaft. Somehow she manages to go deeper. So deep.Holy fuck.
With a couple of good head bobs, I come with a rush so powerful, I’m left shaking. Panting. Shuddering.
And she fucking takes it. Every last drop. Relishing my cum with a mighty gulp.
This woman is savage magic.
My body doesn’t even register that I’ve already come. It craves the leather goddess on her knees.
“Fuck, Bailey—I want you!” I rasp out.
She stands, then pulls down her leather panties. Slowly.
“If you don’t hurry your sweet ass up, I’m gonna lose my damn mind.”
She chuckles but puts an end to my misery by straddling me, bringing her core to my iron cock.
“You feel so fucking good,” I pant as she rubs herself over me, her fingers running through my hair, her tongue licking the lobe of my ear.
Her tight warmth presses down on my shaft. Torturing me.
“Yes…please,” I mutter out.
She takes me in another inch, and another, until my cock fills her.
As much as she’s in control, her body quivers. Her own orgasm building.
“God, I want to taste you, Bailey.”
She kisses me full on the lips as she rides my cock, the slap of skin against skin, the smell of her sex, the taste of her berry lips drawing me closer to losing the small shred of control I have left.
She grinds down, getting as much friction on her tiny nub as she can, crying out from pleasure as I struggle to stave off my own.
“Yes, Bailey. I want you to come. Please, oh, god—I need it.”
Her head thrusts back, and I take the opportunity to kiss her jaw. Her throat. The valley between her perfect breasts.
I can’t last much longer. She’s too hot. Too tight.
“Ashton,” she screams, crashing down on top of me in one final thrust.
Her cunt tightens around my cock, milking it as she thrashes her tight little body on top of mine. I explode in ecstasy, my cry joining hers in a love song.
Her body stills. My heart stops. We melt. Dazed. Hungry.
“Release me,” I whisper. “I need to hold you.”
She reaches behind the chair, undoing the lock of the handcuffs.
As soon as I’m free, I scoop her up into my arms and carry her to my bedroom.
I want to tell her I love her. What else could this be? It’s powerful, primal, and from deep inside my heart. The part that I locked away so long ago.
