Page 69 of Chasing Lyric
My fingers clench onto the bedsheets, and I push my ass back into him. I feel his hard cock press against my pussy.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, voice thick with heat, dragging his fingers through my hair until he’s holding a firm handful. He tugs, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make my breath hitch before my head tilts back. My knees planted on the bed for balance.
“Hold on, Lyri.” The way he says it, low and loaded, sends a full-body shiver racing down my spine. “Because once I’m inside you, I’m not holding back.”
The next second, his cock presses against me, thick and rock hard, and then he pushes in with a deep, steady thrust that stretches me open inch by glorious inch. My breath catches in my throat, the fullness so intense my body tightens in reflex. I jolt forward, but his grip in my hair holds me in place, keeping me right there—his.
“Fuck!” He groans, hips grinding as he settles fully inside. “You feel so damn good. So wet. So fucking tight.”
I can barely speak. The pressure of Chase filling me, the way he feels locked inside my body, is overwhelming. My hands fist the sheets, trying to anchor myself as my body adjusts.
“You’re taking me so well,” he mutters behind me, his tone a dark mix of awe and possessiveness. “Like your pussy’s been waiting for me. Justme.”
A low whimper escapes my throat, my body clenching in response, and he starts to move, dragging almost all the way out before sliding back in with a rolling thrust that makes me weak. Each stroke is long, slow, and deliberate, as if he wants to make sure I feeleverything. My body trembles with every pass, with the delicious drag of his cock against every nerve ending I didn’t know I had.
“You love this, don’t you?” he rasps. “Being taken like this. So fucking deep.”
“Yes…” I gasp, voice barely audible. “I love it.”
“Say it louder.” He growls low, leaning over me, lips brushing my ear. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I love it,” I repeat, louder this time, as another thrust makes me moan uncontrollably. “God, Chase, Ilovethe way you fuck me.”
That does something to him.
His rhythm shifts, rougher now, faster, pounding into me so hard my body slides roughly against the mattress.
But I don’t care.
I’m drunk on him.
On the sound of his skin slapping mine, on his gritted groans, on the rough, perfect stretch of every thrust.
“H-harder,” I manage to stammer, my voice broken by the force of my breathing.
He groans, a low, guttural sound that shoots straight to my core. “You want more?” His voice is wrecked, wrecking me rightalong with it. “You want me to fuck you so hard you’ll still be dripping for me tomorrow?”
I nod desperately, eyes clenching shut as my whole body tenses. “Yes. Chase, please,” I beg.
His hand moves from my hair to my hip, gripping tight as he starts slamming into me. It’s unrelenting now, fast and brutal and perfect. Each thrust drives deeper than the last, like he’s chasing something with every movement.
And I’m chasing it too.
My body coils, muscles drawing tight, the friction becoming too much, not enough, everything all at once. I feel it, building, tightening, pleasure swirling low in my belly, expanding with every thrust.
“God, you’re so close…” he grits, his breath ragged. “I can feel it. You’re clenching so fucking tight, Lyri. Come for me.” His fingers slide between my thighs, circling my clit in perfect sync with his thrusts, and it sends a wave of undeniable pleasure over me. A strangled cry tears from my throat as the orgasm rips through me, my entire body spasming under the weight of it. My legs shake, my arms give way, and my cheek presses into the sheets as I tremble, helpless and undone, my entire being shattering in waves of euphoria.
“Fuck yes,” he groans, still thrusting, his rhythm frantic now. “You’re squeezing me so tight. You are going to make me lose it.”
He doesn’t stop.
He thrusts harder.
Chasing his release.
His hand moves to my waist, pulling me back against him again and again. The new angle has him brushing that spot inside me, reigniting every damn nerve ending.
I’m not ready.
