Page 75 of Her Guardian
“Boyd…” I groan, whimpering as he starts to move inside me.
“This is your fault,” he says playfully, leaning forward and kissing my back.
“Because I gave you a good show?” I mewl.
“Because you’reyou,” he answers.
The first few thrusts are gentle, but then they start taking my breath away every time he goes deep. The table rocks forward and backwards, the wood creaking beneath me. I don’t think it can take much, especially considering how much Boyd is speeding up, but I can’t focus on that. Furniture. Doors. Stairs.Me. Nothing is safe from Big Boyd.
I might be the only thing he hasn’t figure out how to break—yet.
“Oh, fuck, oh, sweet mercy,” I mutter, his thick length hammering my tightness. “I’m about to come!”
I don’t have to tell him. His needy thrusts and the way his cock throbs inside me confirm that he feels it. The orgasm tears through my body and I struggle not to scream. I’m too noisy for these thin walls, but there’s no way I can suppress everything. The whimpers. The moans. The loud squeals that are basically screams with my teeth clenched.
“Mine, all fucking mine,” he snarls, driving his dick into me until another orgasm make me clench. “That’s it, show me you’re mine. Every time you come, it’s another promise that you are.”
“Boyd!” I cry out, still shaking from the orgasm as another one hits.
I feel the table buckle beneath me, but Boyd’s grip tightens on my shoulder. His other hand digs into my waist, keeping me suspended in the air as the table crunches and gives out. Boyd keeps me safe, my toes barely scraping the floor as he pounds his length into me.
“You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you,” he warns.
I brace my hands against the mirror, finally looking at my reflection and the determined face behind me. His jaw is clenched. His eyes are wide and wild. I see the emerald-gold flicker with what is coming, and I shudder with another searing orgasm as he pulsates inside me.
“Oh, fuck!” Boyd roars, the pulsations turning into hard throbs as drives himself deep and erupts, filling my pussy with cum while my quivering walls milk him dry.
Our pleasure subsides, but Boyd doesn’t release his grip. He pulls out of me gently, then gathers me in his arms, carrying me to the couch before he puts me down. I sink into the cushions, feeling like I would pass out if I let my eyes flutter closed again.
“You can relax for a few minutes,” he says, handing me the glass of water, which I gladly accept. He zips up his pants before walking over to the rubble, gathering the underwear I tried on. “I’ll get some replacements for these and have everything packed up for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, sipping the water.
Boyd leaves me alone in the dressing room and I take some time to catch my breath while I sip the water. Once I’ve had time to recover, I get dressed on shaky legs, my hands trembling with aftershocks with every movement. I glance at my reflection and sigh. I definitely look like I just got fucked in a dressing room. Red face. Pupils dilated. Messy hair. I make sure I’m presentable before I step out of the dressing room, unable to look anyone in the eye as I pass them.
Boyd is waiting at the front of the store, holding multiple bags. Way too many bags for what I picked out.
“Um…” I tilt my head slightly.
“You didn’t specify which color you liked, so I got them in every color.” He shrugs. “You don’t have to wear the ones you don’t like.”
“Boyd!” I shake my head. “It was only supposed to be five!”
“Don’t argue. Let’s go,” he growls, pushing the door open. “There’s still plenty of shopping to do.”
“What do you mean?” I ask apprehensively as I walk past him.
“I’m taking you on a date tonight. A real one. Let’s find you something to wear,” he says, letting the door close as he steps outside.
“You’re supposed to buy me dinnerbeforeyou take advantage of me,” I tease, looking back and dodging his hand when he tries to swat my ass.
“Before, after… during,” he mutters. “All the same to me.”
I stand on the curb and puff my vape while Boyd puts the bags away. A date. Arealone. I’m not sure what that means, exactly. It’s hard to imagine Boyd going on dates. Then again, I haven’t been on many, either. I’m sure an evening with Big Boyd will be a lot better than any of those.
Thankfully, Boyd doesn’t do more than touch during the rest of our shopping. As tempting as it is, I can’t bring myself to go into Christian Louboutin, until Boyd practically drags me through the front door. I can’t help peeking at a sticker, but Boyd swats my hand away as a warning.
By the time we leave the shopping pavilion, the clothes he’s bought me are easily more expensive than my entire wardrobe back home.
