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He leaned back onto the bed, pulling me over him, dragging his fingers out of me. The emptiness I felt was maddening, but as he lifted his damp digits to my lips, I instinctively closed my mouth around them. “That’s my good girl,” he purred. “Clean them off for me.”
Beneath me, I could hear the rattle of his belt as he freed himself. His hips shifted as he pushed his pants and boxers down, and when he finally placed his hand back on my waist and lowered me just an inch, I could feel the hot, solid tip of his cock against my entrance.
I started to lower myself but fingers dug into my skin, stopping me before I could get anything more than the tip. “Beg me,” he ordered.
Fuck you. I plastered the fakest, prettiest smile I could muster on my face. “Pretty please, Hunter, can I fuck myself silly on your cock?”
His hands pushed my hips down in sync with his bucking to meet me, slamming himself inside of me with enough force to make me see stars. “That what you wanted?”
I pressed my palms into his chest, breathing through the stretch and my dizzied head. “I?—”
“You want me to fuck you?”
He flipped us before I could take another breath, kicking his pants onto the ground and sinking himself into me fully. His hands grabbed me around the backs of my thighs, pushing them up over his shoulders. “Answer me.”
“Fuck me,” I breathed. “Please.”
He didn’t hold back.
Pulling himself from me almost entirely, he slammed back in, drawing a shriek from my throat. Over and over, he filled me so goddamn perfectly. I couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, and as his hand slid between our bodies and his fingers found my clit, I thought I’d die right there.
At least I’d die happy.
“You were made for me,” he rasped, his breathing quick and shallow. “Made to take me like this.”
I moaned my agreement, words lost on my tongue. His hips moved faster, harder, savagely, and before I even knew it was coming, before I had time to breathe through it, an orgasm ripped through me, tearing my nerves and body to shreds.
“Bad fucking girl,” Hunter hissed, his thrusts relentless. I gasped, my body convulsing. His hand left my clit, giving me a morsel of relief from the overstimulation, but found itself wrapped in my hair instead, tugging harshly, forcing me to look directly up at him as he used me for his own pleasure. “You ask before you come.”
“What are you going to do about it?” I challenged, giggling through the waning of my climax, pleasure frying my nerves. “Punish me?”
He pulled harder on my hair, little prickles of sharp pain spreading across my scalp. Fuck, why did it feel good? “Is that what you want?”
“Maybe,” I breathed.
His cock slid from me, leaving me empty yet again, and in a flash, he flipped me onto my stomach. “On your knees. End of the bed. Now.”
I blinked through the confusion.
“Charlotte.”
He stood at the foot of the bed, his length jutting out at me, slick and coated with my juices. The idea of putting it between my lips made me salivate, but that’s not what he wanted.
I got myself into position, facing away from him on my knees, my face down on the sheets and my rear up in the air. “Now you behave,” he chuckled.
One sharp smack to my ass forced a cry from my lips, but then he was sinking himself into me again, deeper, fuller than he was before. He fucked me harder, his hand wrapping around the length of my hair and pulling. It was leverage to lift me up off the bed, my back bending almost unnaturally until I was leaning back into him with my head on his shoulder.
“So fucking perfect,” he muttered, his hips slamming into me between each word. “But so goddamn sinful.”
His fingers teased my nipples, tweaking them, squeezing them. The sounds leaking from me were so loud, so intense, that for once, I was thankful Dad wasn’t here anymore.
“Touch yourself, Lottie. Let me watch you.”
His words were like a command. I did as he asked, my digits fumbling in the slickness.
“That’s it. You’re going to come again,” he growled, his pace quickening. “And you’re going to beg.”
The first part at least wouldn’t be difficult.
