Page 92
Story: Twisted Games (Twisted 2)
“You! My pussy belongs to you.” My voice broke in a sob as he delivered another stinging slap to my clit.
“That’s right.It belongs to me, and don’t you ever forget it.” Slap.
I let out a keening wail, trying to scrabble away and push back harder against him at the same time. I couldn’t tell whether I loved or hated what was happening, only that I was dripping and burning and every scrape of my nipples against the wooden table sent another jolt of heat straight to my throbbing clit.
“Are you going to dance with your date again?” Rhys’s voice sounded remarkably even, if tightly controlled.
I shook my head, the tears sliding down my cheeks.
“Good.” Slap. “You are so wet, princess.” Slap. “You should see how pretty and swollen your clit looks right now. Like it’s begging for me to spank it harder.” SLAP.
It was too much. The words, the brutal, filthy punishment, the fact we were doing this just around the corner and down the hall from my family and friends.
I exploded. Hard. Long. Violent. Ears buzzing, knees buckling, showers of lights bursting behind my eyes. I would’ve fallen to the floor had Rhys not held me up while the strongest orgasm of my life tore through me like an electric storm, and I had to drop my head and bury my face in my arm to stifle my screams.
I was still riding out the waves of my mind-shattering release when I felt Rhys’s tongue gently stroke my clit, licking and soothing until the burn faded.
Just as I gathered myself together, he stood and slowly pushed his cock inside of me. He withdrew equally slowly, until just the tip remained inside, and paused. I inhaled, but my first real breath of the night broke into a squeal when he suddenly slammed into me with a vicious thrust. His fist in my hair kept me in place as he bottomed out with each downward stroke, and the contrast between the gentleness of his entry and the savage fury with which he now fucked me scrambled my senses to the point where I could only hold on to the table for dear life.
In and out. Harder and faster each time until the tingles at the base of my spine came back to life, and I crashed over the edge again.
“Oh, God, Rhys.”
“That’s it, princess.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, his movements growing jerkier. He was about to come, too. “Such a good girl. Come for me.”
I did, endlessly and unashamedly, breaking into a million pieces around him.
And as Rhys, too, came with a loud groan, I wondered if he knew he owned every one of those pieces—not just of my body, but also my heart.
“That’s right.It belongs to me, and don’t you ever forget it.” Slap.
I let out a keening wail, trying to scrabble away and push back harder against him at the same time. I couldn’t tell whether I loved or hated what was happening, only that I was dripping and burning and every scrape of my nipples against the wooden table sent another jolt of heat straight to my throbbing clit.
“Are you going to dance with your date again?” Rhys’s voice sounded remarkably even, if tightly controlled.
I shook my head, the tears sliding down my cheeks.
“Good.” Slap. “You are so wet, princess.” Slap. “You should see how pretty and swollen your clit looks right now. Like it’s begging for me to spank it harder.” SLAP.
It was too much. The words, the brutal, filthy punishment, the fact we were doing this just around the corner and down the hall from my family and friends.
I exploded. Hard. Long. Violent. Ears buzzing, knees buckling, showers of lights bursting behind my eyes. I would’ve fallen to the floor had Rhys not held me up while the strongest orgasm of my life tore through me like an electric storm, and I had to drop my head and bury my face in my arm to stifle my screams.
I was still riding out the waves of my mind-shattering release when I felt Rhys’s tongue gently stroke my clit, licking and soothing until the burn faded.
Just as I gathered myself together, he stood and slowly pushed his cock inside of me. He withdrew equally slowly, until just the tip remained inside, and paused. I inhaled, but my first real breath of the night broke into a squeal when he suddenly slammed into me with a vicious thrust. His fist in my hair kept me in place as he bottomed out with each downward stroke, and the contrast between the gentleness of his entry and the savage fury with which he now fucked me scrambled my senses to the point where I could only hold on to the table for dear life.
In and out. Harder and faster each time until the tingles at the base of my spine came back to life, and I crashed over the edge again.
“Oh, God, Rhys.”
“That’s it, princess.” He pressed a kiss to my shoulder, his movements growing jerkier. He was about to come, too. “Such a good girl. Come for me.”
I did, endlessly and unashamedly, breaking into a million pieces around him.
And as Rhys, too, came with a loud groan, I wondered if he knew he owned every one of those pieces—not just of my body, but also my heart.
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