Page 257 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
Nearly three weeks of rearranging my entire schedule just to fuck my little toy multiple times a day.
I didn’t stop thrusting until my trousers slapped her ass and she hissed, clenching around me from the sting. The welt from earlier flared beneath the pressure.
“Yeah, this is what liars get,” I rasped. “A sore arse and a pussy full of come.”
“You didn’t know I was a liar, though,” she panted.
She obviously didn’t know when to quit.
I licked my thumb and looked down at the darker hole just above where I was buried inside her. Gave her a few shallow thrusts—just enough to keep her panting—then pressed my thumb against her tight rim.
“Don’t contradict me,” I growled, pushing it in slowly, deliberately.
She gasped.
Then moaned.
Then pushed back into me, shameless.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” she said breathlessly.
“Bad fucktoy,” I snapped, pressing my thumb deeper until it sank all the way in—until I felt both her holes clamp down on me in unison.
Perfect.
I held her steady and began to fuck her like I meant it—unforgiving, relentless. She cried, begged, whimpered—each sound stacking on top of the other until it was nothing but a breathless, needy chorus.
The harder I used her, the more she leaked. Slick poured down my shaft, dripped from her thighs—but I didn’t rush.
I savoured it.
Watched her hands claw at the desk, her head jerking with each thrust until her messy bun came undone—hair spilling down her back in wild, untamed waves.
But it was those magnificent cheeks that absorbed every punishing stroke.
They bounced with each slam of my hips—soft, plush, made for this.
A perfect buffer.
Just like her belly would be.
Swollen.
Claimed.
Bred.
“You gonna come for me, Everly?” I taunted, voice low and filthy. “Gonna come like the desperate little fucktoy you are?”
Her head jerked again—but no words came.
Just trembling and submission.
Yeah, I was ready to nut inside her.
I reached past her hip, needing to feel her—feel us. When I circled three fingers over her clit, her head reared back. Her hair flew as a piercing scream tore from her throat.
I yanked my thumb from her and slammed deep—buried to the hilt—needing every inch, every flutter, every squeeze.
