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I expect him to start slamming into me, but he doesn’t. He grinds deep, using the belt to pull me against him tighter.

His pace quickens, but the rolls continue. My ex used to fuck me like a jackhammer, just slamming repeatedly. Butthis is different. Austin isn’t gentle. He’s fucking me hard, but his cock is rolling in and out, reaching the deep spot near my cervix. His relentless penetration has moans rolling free from my lips.

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” I beg him.

He drops the belt, pinching a nipple as his palm spreads against my chest, lifting me flush against his chest. His lips meet my neck; he bites, licks, nips. The heat in my belly is coiling tight, ready to spring open.

His zipper and slacks rub against the back of my thighs, and I’m reminded of how this must look: two people who couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, they had to start fucking half on the floor.

He pinches my nipple hard, and then his hand snakes up to my throat.

“Do you trust me, Killer?”

His hand is ready to squeeze, but he’s waiting for my okay.

My head moves up and down before I’ve really considered my options. But do I need them? I trust him to make me feel good. I trust him to stop if it doesn’t. His thumb and forefingers squeeze the side of my neck. The blood flow is restricted, and he starts to pound into me. My pussy drenches his cock as he releases my neck, squeezing harder next time.

Thrusting, squeezing, releasing. Thrusting, squeezing, releasing. The pattern of his fucking sends me into a frenzy.

My hips ache from being stretched, the pressure lifting me higher and higher. I groan out, and my pussy starts to strangle his cock the way his hand is my throat.

“I’m coming,” I cry out.

He releases my throat instantly, grabbing both my hips and pounding into me harder and harder.

“Please don’t stop, Austin, baby. Please, please, please.”

Each wave of my orgasm crashes through my stomach, my chest, and my legs; I can feel it in my toes. I’m crying, tears streaming down my face, the intensity of this flowing out ofme.

His grip on my hips tightens, and some sick part of me hopes it bruises. I want his mark on me; I want to feel this for days after.

I tilt my ass up a little more for him and engage my muscles, squeezing him until I feel him swell even more.

“Fuck, baby. I’m coming now. Give me a little more.”

I squeeze again. Reaching my hand between my legs, I roll his balls in my hand. His movements become more jagged, his cock pulsing in me as he unloads his warm seed, coating my walls.Fuck, I love this.

We’re covered in a thin layer of sweat as he leans his weight over me, my chest pushing back into the couch. He pulls out of me, and I twist to look at him.

“Fuck, did I hurt you?” He takes my face in his hands, wiping my tears with his thumbs. The anguish on his face shows me just how much this man cares for me.

I’m shaking. “No, of course not, that was perfect. Just a lot. I think I can still feel you inside me.”

“You’re sure?” His voice wavers.

“I’d tell you if I didn’t like something. That was the biggest orgasm of my life. I think my body didn’t know what to do.” I laugh.

“As long as you’re sure,” he murmurs, brow furrowed.

His rough hands trail lightly over my thighs, before he pushes his hands beneath me and carries me across the room.

“Austin!” I cling to his neck, realizing that my ass is exposed. I feel the evidence of his release seeping from my sex. He strides to the bathroom, carrying me as if I weigh nothing, carefully placing me on the tiled floor.

Turning the golden hands on the clawfoot tub, he sprinkles in some Epsom salts and some oils the hotel has left us. As the bubbles grow, he tests the water with his hand. Letting the water run, he begins unbuttoning his shirt. The man just fucked me over a couch, and yet, the slow seduction of undoing his buttons has my heart thumping like a racehorseon derby day.

He smirks. “Strip.” He nods to my dress.

Mirroring his slow dance of movements, I slip one strap off my shoulder, caressing my collarbone as I move to the other side. The satin dress slips down my body, bunching at the curve of my hip. I wriggle it loose until it hits the floor. The hiss of zipper rings in my ear, and his slacks hit the floor along with my dress.