Page 122 of Broken Pieces
I curl my fingers, hit that spot deep inside that makes her jolt.
She’s grinding herself against my hand, chasing every filthy stroke, her slick soaking my face. I growl, tongue moving faster, devouring her as she fucks my face like she owns it, and shit, I don’t fucking care. I want her needy… begging.
My balls ache. My cock’s about to explode in my sweats. Every fucking part of me is wound tight, focused on her pussy. On the way she gasps. The way her body shakes when I circle her clit with just enough pressure to keep her on edge.
“Oh God—” she cries out.
I look up at her, lips wet, breath ragged. “I’m not gonna make you come.”
Her eyes snap open, dazed and needy.
“I want you worked up,” I growl. “So when I fuck you, it won’t hurt.”
My gaze drags down the length of her body, slow and greedy, drinking in every inch. Her tits rise with every shaky breath, her nipples harden, begging to be touched. That soft flush across her chest is a dead giveaway she’s worked up, even if she’s trying to hold it together. She’s laid out, skin flushed, legs parted, pussy wet and aching, and fuck if that doesn’t make my cock ache with need.
Her eyes meet mine, and there’s something burning there, something that grabs hold of my chest and twists.
I should tell her how fucking beautiful she looks spread out like this, but I’ve already said it once, and that’s not who I am. Handing out sweet talk is not my style. I don’t do soft. I fuck. I use. I take.
But with her, I’m going to take my time. It will take everything in me to drag it out, tease her until she’s begging.
I want her to tell me how fucking much she’s been thinking about me.
Tell me she wants to do every filthy thing I’ve ever fantasized about. Every dirty fucking thought I’ve had jerking off while thinking about her mouth, her tits, her pussy wrapped tight around my cock.
I suck that little nub until she’s squirming, panting, right there on the edge, and then I pull back, my lips slick, my mouth aching to go back for more.
Her body jerks, hips chasing the pressure I’ve stolen from her. That frustrated breath escapes her throat.
With a smirk, I run my tongue slow along my bottom lip, tasting her. Then I give her a wink, it’s cocky I know, but I don’t fucking care.
“You’re such an asshole, you know that,” she grits out, eyes heavy.
I laugh.
She’s the only one who can draw that out of me.
“You can only come when I have my cock buried inside you,” I growl,
“Well, I’m waiting,” she says, and I can see she’s clearly frustrated that I never let her come.
I grin, the kind of grin that always gets me in trouble.
“You’re a pushy little thing, aren’t you? Patience, baby. You’ll get what you’re waiting for,” I say, giving her pussy an open-mouthed kiss, tasting her all over again.
She hisses, and fuck, that sound… I could listen to that all fucking day.
For half a second, I imagine having that sound on repeat, saved somewhere I can hear it at any time. My own personal fucking addiction. But the thought of anyone else hearing her like this, anyone knowing how she sounds when she’s falling apart for me, has something dark twisting in my gut.
That possessive, fucked-up part of me wakes up fast.
Those sounds are fucking mine.
Her gasps, her whimpers, the way she moans my name when I’m between her legs. Every single one of them belongs to me. She doesn’t know it yet, but she will. Because no one is ever gonna make her sound this way.
I pull back; her taste still on my tongue, and climb off the bed.
“Where are you going?”
