“Is this how you want to be fucked?” he whispers, pulling me back by my hair, forcing himself into me again and again.
“Yessss!” I brace my hands against the floor, trying to steady myself, but it’s no use. He’s controlling this—he’s controlling me, and he’s not letting me set the pace.
As I give in, he grips my waist and slowly moves me upright, never stopping his thrusts. His hands move up to my breasts and squeeze my nipples, pinching them so hard that I cry out even louder. I feel his lips on the back of my neck, feel his teeth digging into my skin, and I damn near lose control.
“Blake…”
“Yes?” One of his hands trails past my stomach—straight to my clit. Using his thumb, he gently circles it as he continues to pound into me. “You said something?”
“Fuck, Blake..”
“Fuck me?” He stops mid thrust. He grabs my hair and tilts my head back. “Is that what you said?”
My breathing is erratic. I can’t get a single word out, so I simply shake my head.
“You’re not enjoying this?” He pulls out of me. “I’m not fucking you rough enough?”
“No.” I try to catch my breath. “That’s not what I mean. I meant—”
I don’t get a chance to finish because the next thing I know, he’s picking me up and tossing me over his shoulder, carrying me into the master bedroom. The one I’ve been occupying.
He tosses me onto the bed, and then he pulls me to the edge by my legs. “I’m not doing this right?”
“Blake…” My chest is heaving. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” He lifts my legs and places them around his waist.
“I meant—” I gasp as he slides into me, as he bends down to bite my nipple.
Staring into my eyes, he doesn’t say another word. He slides deeper and deeper, and with each scream I let out, he squeezes my ass.
There are no kisses, no soft caresses, no sweet murmurs from his mouth. He’s just fucking me.
And I’m loving every second of it.
I moan each time he slaps my skin with his palm, each time he tells me I “feel so fucking good,” and each time he prevents me from taking control.
As tremors start to build inside of me and my legs start to shake, I shut my eyes. I try to pull away from him, try to move my legs from around his waist, but he doesn’t let me.
He holds my thighs in place and kisses my stomach—licking his way from my navel to my breasts, and before he can reach my lips, I let go. Screaming.
My body is shaking in ways I can’t even begin to explain, and no matter how hard I try to control it, I can’t. I’m coming again and again and again, and he’s still torturing me with his tongue, still holding my legs captive.
Shit…
I feel his release shortly after, and then I feel him collapsing on top of me.
Seconds later, he rolls off me and stands up—walking away.
He’s leaving? Just like that?
I’m too elated to be upset right now, but once this euphoria wears off, the “wham, bam, thank you, ma’am” realization may hurt a little.
On my back, I scoot across the mattress until my head hits the headboard. I’m about to shut my eyes and replay what just happened, but I feel Blake sliding into bed next to me.
He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me on top of him. “Does that take care of numbers five and eight?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t have an orgasm.”
“You had four.”
I blush. “Yes…That should um, take care of those numbers.”
“Good to know.” He smiles and brushes a strand of hair away from my face. “Are you sore?”
“A little.”
Kissing my lips, he grabs my hand and slides it down his thigh—placing it onto his hardened cock.
I gasp as he uses my hand to rub it up and down.
“Now that I’ve fucked you your way, can I fuck you using mine?”
My eyes widen. I’m honestly not sure if I can go another round with him, especially if it’s anything half as intense.
“It’s not.” He’s getting good at reading my mind. He reaches over to the nightstand and pulls out a condom, handing it to me.
I take my time unwrapping it, avoiding his eyes even though I can feel him staring at me. I sit up and place it over him, trying to think of something to say in this moment, but there’s no use.
The second I’m done, he grabs me and rolls me on top of him. Slightly lifting me up by my waist, he positions me over his cock and I slowly sink onto him.
I moan once he’s entirely inside of me and place my hands against his chest to steady myself.
He holds my waist still so I can’t move, and then he caresses my face. “Go slow.”
As his hands move away, I start to rock against him—never breaking eye contact, never wanting to.
He slides a hand around my neck and pulls my head down to his, slowly kissing me. Gently biting my bottom lip, he groans as I start to move a little faster.
“Slow, Paris.” He lets go of my lip and cups one of my breasts—circling my nipple with his tongue.
I can’t go slow with him. He feels too good.
He trails his tongue to my other breast and grips my hips—preventing me from moving as fast as I want to.
“Blake…”
He looks into my eyes as he moves me up and down his cock, ignoring my pleas to speed things up.
“Why are you in such a rush?” He holds me still after bringing me back down, after he’s completely inside of me. “Does this not feel good?”
“Yes.” I try to move myself back up, but his grip is too strong. “Yes…”
“We already fucked your way, didn’t we?” He sits up—keeping me still, keeping us entwined. “Isn’t it my turn?”
“Blake, please.” I feel him slightly moving me up—teasing me.
“Please what?” His hand caresses my back. “Fuck you faster?”
I nod, but he doesn’t oblige. He presses his mouth against my neck—softly biting my skin whenever I say his name.
He rocks me against his cock again and I start to tremble—start to quiver in anticipation of a release, but each time I get close, he stops and kisses my lips instead.
“Please.” I murmur as he runs his fingers through my hair.
Kissing me, he finally lets my waist go and I wrap my arms around his neck.
I grind my hips into his, letting the tremors build and build—letting his lips continue to make love to my mouth.
“Ohhh Godddd.” My skin slaps against his one last time and I lose all control. “Blake …”
I fall forward, knocking us both to the mattress. I can hear him saying words, but I can’t understand them over my heavy breathing.
Seemingly concerned, he lifts me off him and lays me on the other side of the bed.
“Paris?” He sweeps sweaty strands of hair away from my forehead. “Are you okay?”
I try to say, “Fuck yes,” but everything goes black.
My body is sore. Beyond sore.
I can barely feel my legs, my arms are weary, and the skin on my neck is reeling from all the sensual bites Blake placed there.