Page 105 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
Her blonde hair fanned out across the dark red sheets like strands of sunlight spilled across spilled wine—too beautiful, too stark. Every inch of her contrasted against the bedding like something holy laid bare on a sacrificial altar.
I shoved the covers to the bottom of the bed and moved below her bound legs. She was trussed up, ready to be bred.
Ready to receive my gift.
Her breasts rose with each shallow breath, full and high, tipped with the softest blush—like the centre of a flower just beginning to open. I drank her in, shameless, ravenous.
She raised her knees, pressing her thighs firmly shut. I glanced up.
Her eyes—God, those eyes—wide as if startled, the way prey looks at its predator, but not just fear. There was heat behind it. Wariness and wonder. The kind of look that made men forget themselves. That had already made me forget everything but her.
I slowly towered above her, placing my hands on the mattress.
“You’ll spread those thighs and beg for my cock by the time I’m done with you, Lucia,” I rasped, hunger edging every syllable.
My lips met the pulse on her neck, and I traced the tip of my tongue along her skin—my first taste. When I reached her ear, I curled my tongue around the small earlobe. She arched unconsciously, caught in the sensation until her sweet tits rose and brushed my chest.
“Good little whore,” I whispered.
“Please,” she whispered, the word barely formed.
The sound only fuelled me forward, and I pushed my body down until her thighs spread open. I smiled against her throat; it worked hard as she swallowed. I moved down, letting my lips and beard graze her skin until I reached her breasts. When I pushed the two globes of soft flesh together, I wished they were heavy with milk.
I licked over her nipple. Up and down, slowly, before I swallowed. I sucked hard, and with a smack of my lips, I released the pink bud. Her body stilled, save for the quiver in her thighs. I repeated the action several times before I moved to her other breast. The obscene smacking sounds filled the room and joined her ragged breathing.
Part of me wanted to mark her, filling her cunt up wasn't enough. I edged forward until my cock rested between her legs.
“You can’t—” she whimpered, even as her hips shifted and her hands pulled at her restraints.
I rested my head beside hers, licking her neck, before sucking on her skin. To leave my mark. She gasped when I bit her long enough to mar her skin. I immediately soothed the spot over with my tongue.
Then I felt it.
Her wet pussy.
Triumph and pride filled my chest.
I rocked my hips back and forth, teasing her with my rigid length.
“I always knew that I could coax that little office slut out of you, Lucia,” I purred, enjoying the sound of her name on my tongue.
Her breath caught on the edge of a moan when I added more pressure.
“That's my good little whore soak my cock,” I said, breathing against her neck.
Our bodies flush together as I continued my rhythm above her. Enjoying the feel of her softness beneath me.
“Get me ready to breed you.”
“Laurent,” she cried, voice sharp and unravelling.
I reached down and guided my dripping cock to her open in, raising my head to look at her. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling.
“Tell me to stop,” I rasped, already knowing she wouldn’t.
She shivered, eyes wide and glassy. Her lips parted—but no words came out.
I drove my hips forward until I felt her open for me. My cock jerked, knowing it was finally home. Her wet heat clung to me, sucking me in. I began to kiss her jaw, cheek until I reached her lips.
