Page 67 of Venom Island
“Mmm…” I do really like that word from her mouth. She’s uttered it a lot over the last week. “How bad do you want my knot, Caja?”
She squeezes her cunt around me in demonstration, making me chuckle again. “That bad, hmm?”
Her little responding growl goes straight to my balls.
“I wanted to take this slow,” I tell her. “Show you with my body how much you mean to me.”
“I don’t want slow.”
“I can see that,” I murmur, brushing my nose with hers. “But you’re sore.”
“I don’t care.” She punches her hips up into mine as I’m slowly entering her, forcing me to fill her faster than I intended.
And fuck, if that’s not the hottest feeling in the world.
“All right, tesoro,” I say, rolling us so I’m on my back and she’s on top. “Take what you want.”
Her eyes widen. We haven’t tried this yet. I’ve taken her from behind several times. Missionary style. Against a wall in the shower. Bent over the bed. But not with her on top. Not like this.
“Ride me, Caja,” I say.
She presses her palms to my chest to sit up.
Then she begins to move.
And fuck if that’s not the hottest sight I’ve ever seen, her tits bouncing with her movements, her bodytaking, taking, taking.
I watch as my cock disappears and reappears with every shift of her hips, her little body barely able to take me in this position.
Her knees skim the mattress rather than rest on it, her smaller form just too tiny for this to be as impactful as she truly wants.
I can see that strain in her features, her frustration over her inability to ride me effectively.
I let her try for a few more minutes, selfishly indulging in the sight of her.
Then I flip her once more and drive forward until she’s a screaming, writhing mess beneath me.
She’s going to have some fresh bruises on her hips, but her reactions tell me she doesn’t care.
So I keep going.
Drilling her hard.
Taking her to that place I know she’s addicted to after a week of fucking.
She screams my name over and over, her nails scraping down my back as I plow into her, driving her over that precipice intopain-induced pleasure, and forcing her to stay there with my knot.
Her body convulses with mine, my bulb attached to her within, holding us together in this orgasmic existence.
Her face is wet with tears, but her lips are pulled up in rapture.
I cup her cheek and kiss her, holding her to me while my seed fills her to completion.
My knot never seems to want to let go, but it eventually begins to subside, and only then does her bliss start to wane, the pain settling in.
She winces, then trembles as another euphoric quake overtakes her being.
I press my lips to hers once more, kissing her through the process, until she’s quietly crying beneath me. “I’m sorry, tesoro,” I whisper. “I know it hurts.”
