Page 57 of Almost Rotten

“And this one,” he says, a smile evident in his voice, “is for your needy little clit?”

A heartbeat later, fireworks ignite, a rainbow of color and brightness shooting off in all directions.

I clamp my legs shut, but that only increases the intensity.

“Fuck, baby.”

He sounds closer. Is he closer?

I crack my eyes open, desperately wanting to feel the weight of him.

He sits back in the chair beside the bed, legs spread wide, his searing gaze flitting from my face to my tits to between my thighs.

He’s too far away.

My body clenches around the toy, and I climb higher.

I want him to touch me. I want him inside me right now.

“Ty,” I beg. “I need more.”

He takes me literally, increasing the vibration and the suction.

It’s exquisite, despite not being what I really want.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his low voice sending a chill up my spine. “Putting on a perfect show.”

My mind goes fuzzy, the haze of the impending orgasm so much headier than my earlier high.

“You handed over this remote so sweetly. So submissively. You wanted me to have control, didn’t you, mon ange?”

Yes.

I shouldn’t trust him. My desire for him is liable to blow up my entire life.

But I want Tytus to take control.

I want him to take me.

“Ty,” I plead. “Put your hands on me.Please.”

A chair scrapes in the distance.

Strong, capable hands crank my legs open wider.

Warm breath tickles my core, snagging my attention.

Holy shit.

Ty’s face is between my knees, his focus intent on my body and the vibrator that’s about to hurtle me into the stratosphere.

That’s all it takes to send me over the edge I’ve been riding.

I scream out, thrashing against the bed.

I try to clamp my legs shut, only to be met with the resistance of Ty’s grip.

Bucking and quaking, I ride out the most intense spikes of my orgasm. When I have enough wherewithal to look down again, Ty’s eyes are on me, expectantly.