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“Beg for it,” he orders.

“Please!”

I moan helplessly as he fucks me, with long, leisurely thrusts, his hips battering against me. He groans with satisfaction as he does it.

I think I’ve legit died and gone to some heavenly version of hell. Harlan is the devil, and he plans to fuck me for eternity while I beg.

Right now, I’m beyond okay with it.

Suddenly, he stops. I squirm and pant, wanting more.

“More?” he demands.

“Yes,” I gurgle.

“I don’t hear you, pretty.”

“Yes!” I gasp. “Sir!”

I’m rewarded with a deep thrust. But then he stops again, just the tip nestled into me.

I growl, a desperate, guttural noise, as I try to force my hips back, and he presses me down, holding me off with that one hand on my lower back, the other still gripping my neck. He’s owning me. Playing me like an instrument.

He chuckles, a sound of pure male pleasure.

“You’re gloating,” I pant. “It’s not sexy.”

My pussy flutters helplessly around his dick as he nudges it deeper, totally betraying my words.

“Is that how you talk to the man who’s going to make you come harder than you’ve ever come in your life?” he purrs.

I laugh, but it’s a nervous, starving sound. I struggle to maintain some dignity. “How can you be so sure?”

He answers darkly, “Because neither of us is leaving this room until you do.”

His tone is so ferocious, so intent on his objective, I feel mildly panicked.

I’ve never had someone so fiercely focused on getting me off. But any nervousness is whisked away into oblivion as he proceeds to fuck the hell out of me… until my moans and cries bleed together into a filthy song of ecstasy. I’m seeing stars, my whole body is quaking, and there’s a river of my juices streaming down my thighs.

When he pauses, panting over me, his cock seated deeply within me, I feel him spasm. I know he’s fighting back his arousal, hanging on, so he doesn’t come before I do.

He takes a steadying breath.

The thrill of knowing he’s so turned on, overme, sends me to a high I’ve never known. My whole body flushes with excitement. My core tingles, aching with the need to come.

Then he starts fucking me again.

The friction of my clit rubbing against the bed, combined with the pressure of his cockhead rubbing my insides as he pummels me, is pure insanity. I think I’m going to come while getting fucked from behind for the first time in my life.

Hard.

I groan and rub myself against the bed like an animal, dying for it.

But Harlan slows his thrusts. He slips his hand around my throat, and folds over me, so his heat envelops me. He’s heavy, his body hot and slick with sweat.

His fingers gently squeeze my throat as he purrs in my ear, “I could slide my fingers over that sopping wet pussy of yours, play with your swollen little clit, squeeze it, slap it… tease you however I like until you come for me.” All the while, he fucks me, slow and deep, his swollen cockhead driving me mad. The angle has intensified, and he’s rubbing into my front wall, sending tingling warmth through my clit.

I’m humping the bed in response, what little I can maneuver under his weight.