Rubbing.
Hard.
I went cross-eyed.
He grabbed my chin in a biting grip, forcing my neck to twist, eyes back to his burning ones. “Don’t break eye contact again.”
He kept palming my pussy until a whimper left my mouth—a plea. Why wasn’t he inside me?
“I’m not coming in your cunt today,” he snarled.
The tip of his cock pressed against my ass, invading.
Hot. Hard. Too much, too big.
“Can you feel your legs yet?” he rasped.
I nodded—barely.
“Good.”
He stepped off, all the sensation gone. I was left an aching, desperate mess, staring up at the chandelier above the steps.
Why?
“Beg at my feet, wife.”
Seventy-Five
GRAY
Story scrambled to her knees with barely a second’s hesitation.
“Fuck me,” she begged, looking up at me through her lashes. “Bruise me. Please.”
Fuck.
I dragged my hand across my bottom lip, my jaw.
She was dangerous like this.
With that bottomless hunger and those trusting, pleading eyes. Like I could do anything to her and she’d let me. I first glimpsed it in her the day she stole my kiss. The deep well of hunger. The thing that made her beg more. The hungry, starving, aching need in her that matched mine.
It was the reason she slid into my blood.
She gave the monster in me unlimited access to her.
I craved and craved, and she let me eat and eat.
Story dragged her nails up and down my thighs. “Please.”
I grabbed her wrists, holding them in one hand, and pulled her off the ground just a little. So her thighs would burn.
So her breathing would get fast and rocky the way I liked.
And so I could get to her ass.
“Tell me what you want, Story,” I said, hiking up the tulle of her dress to slide one finger in her ass.
She exhaled a steamy sigh, going cross-eyed. Fuck, I liked her like this—suspended by her wrists, her ass mine to use.
Her head fell to my thigh, saliva dripping down my flesh.
Her wide, walnut eyes opened, begging for more.
“What do you want?” I thrust another finger inside her and she arched on a cry. “Say it.”
“Fill me up,” she groaned. “Rip apart my soul. Make me bleed with you. So I can feel you inside me forever.”
Fucking. Perfect.
Still fucking her ass, I dropped her hands, forcing her to hold on to my thigh if she wanted me to keep fucking her.
She did.
She clung to me, nails biting into my naked flesh.
I gripped her bottom lip, exposing her teeth. “I’m going to consume every inch of you. You’re going to bleed for me. Every fucking drop. Until I decide you’re done.”
I would remind her who owned her heart. Who she bled for. Who she begged for. West had tormented her soul for too long.
That’s my spot.
I shoved her off my leg and she fell back, legs falling open. Soft and fluffy fabric bunched around her waist, giving just the barest, tempting glimpse of her perfect pussy.
I dragged my hand across my jaw.
Fucking. Dangerous.
I reached for my discarded pants, grabbing what I’d stolen from Gemma. Her eyes grew to saucers when she saw it. “I told you, little wife. You’d need lube for this.”
I crooked a finger, letting her know to come to me. She crawled to me like a cat along the marble, her tits swinging—bigger now, after having Sonnet. Story climbed on top of me and I circled my thumb around her nipples as tulle fell around us, the feathery fabric building a cloudy bubble just for us.
I dragged the head of my cock up and down her pussy, stopping at her ass. She swallowed, mouth parting.
“Are you scared, Snitch?”
“A little,” she whispered raggedly against my lips. “You’re so big and I’ve never done this.”
I squeezed a large amount of lube onto my finger. “So we’ll go slow. At your pace, little wife.”
I found her beneath the ivory netting, teasing my pointer finger along her ass. She gripped my shoulders, and I slipped inside her. She let out the most aggravatingly sexy whimper. Her eyes grew, then drooped, locked on me. There it was again. That bottomless well.
“More,” she whispered against my lips.
Her naked tits and breath heated my chest. I could take off her dress, but with her ripped-open bodice, and the tulle barely shielding her ass from me, it twisted something dark inside me. My little wife was a queen—one I got to defile.
“You look like a queen, little wife,” I murmured against her neck, fucking her ass slowly with my finger. “Hmm…” I lifted the tattered lace and bone bodice. “A queen who lets her king do whatever the fuck he wants with her.”
Her ass squeezed around my finger.
I grinned. “You like that?” I slid another finger inside her. “What would my queen let me do to her?”
“Anything,” she breathed.
I slipped a third finger inside her ass, stretching.
“Anything?”
Her breath hot on my lips. “Always.”
My cock was aching. Hard. Dripping onto my thigh.
When I spoke, my voice didn’t sound right. Too low. Too rough. “You might regret that, little wife.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but froze as I slid the fourth finger inside her ass. Her head fell to my chest, nails digging into my arms, my neck.
“More,” she begged, ragged and loud.
She was ready.
I pulled my fingers out and she whined.
My dick jolted at the sound. Lost. She was fucking lost to me. And fuck if that wasn’t addicting, because I was lost to her.
I flipped her so her back was flush against my chest, so I could feel every squirm she made, and so I could play with her cunt while I slid into her.
I’d know if I was too much before she told me.
As I angled my cock with her ass, she squirmed, trying to bare down on me, nails biting into my thigh.
“Please. Please. Please—”
I pushed up and she broke off, a twisted, pretty groan slipping from her pouty lips.
Fucking. Perfect.
I couldn’t not watch her face. Her dilated pupils or her wet parted lips. Her hand slipped from my thigh and tangled in my hair as she took me up her ass for the first time. I could read everything she was feeling in her eyes, in the way her mouth parted.
“How do I feel inside you?” My throat hoarse.
“Big,” she gasped.
I laughed. “What else, little nun?” I moved aside the curls stuck to the sweat on her forehead. “How do you feel here?” I feathered my touch between her breasts, down her stomach, and across her pussy as I slid in just a little more. “Are you aching? Throbbing?”
She licked her lips, a small, needy sound slipping from her throat.
I ripped her back by the hair and slammed my lips against hers, two fingers on her clit, stealing the rest of her sounds.
They’re mine.
“More,” she breathed against my lips. “Please.” She tried to push down on my cock.
“For every secret you give me, I’ll give you an inch of my cock.”
Her nails dug into me. “I’ll tell you anything. Anything.”