Page 87 of Babies for the Big Shot

She moans around me. I feel it vibrate all the way down my spine.

She starts to move, up and down, hand twisting at the base, spit slicking my cock until I’m shining, pulsing, barely holding on. Her other hand presses against my thigh to brace herself, nails digging in just enough to make me groan.

“Look at you,” I grit out, eyes locked on the flushed curve of her cheeks, the way her lashes flutter. “So fucking pretty like this. On your knees for me.”

She pulls off with a gasp, lips glossy and red. A strand of saliva still connects her mouth to my cock.

“I want you to come in my mouth,” she whispers. “But not yet.”

My control snaps like a live wire.

I haul her up, toss her back on the couch, and crawl over her, a man possessed.

Her legs part automatically. I yank the T-shirt she’s wearing over her head, drag my teeth along her collarbone as my hands roam, greedy and unrelenting. Her nipples pebble beneath my tongue as I suck one into my mouth, fingers already teasing down the waistband of her sleep shorts.

She arches up, panting. “Nick, please…”

“Patience,” I growl, sliding a hand between her legs, feeling just how soaked she is through her panties. “This pussy’s already begging for me.”

She whimpers as I stroke her through the lace, slow and dirty. I feel the fabric cling to her folds, sticky and hot, and it’s all I can do not to tear them off with my teeth.

But not yet.

I lean in, voice in her ear. “You get me that worked up with your mouth and think I’m gonna let you off easy?”

Her eyes flutter shut, lips parted. “I want you to ruin me.”

Fuck.

I grab her wrists and pin them above her head with one hand, my other hand sliding her panties to the side.

“You sure?”

She nods once, desperate. “Please.”

I sink two fingers inside her in one smooth thrust, curling just right. Her back arches. She gasps my name, grinding down, greedy for more.

“You’re gonna come on my hand first,” I murmur, thumb circling her clit, slick and swollen. “Then I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget who you’re mad at.”

A half laugh, half sob escapes her. “Already forgot.”

Her body clamps around my fingers, tight and pulsing, slick and hot. She’s close. I can feel it.

I press harder. Faster. She comes with a strangled cry, thighs trembling, pussy spasming around my hand as if she’s never been touched before.

I don’t stop. Not until she’s gasping, wrung out and wrecked.

And then I kiss her, hungry and deep and filthy, before flipping her onto her stomach, dragging her hips back, and lining myself up behind her.

“You ready?” I rasp.

She nods, breathless. “Nick, yes, please…”

And then I push inside her, inch by thick inch, until I’m buried to the hilt, and all I can think is:Mine.

She’s panting beneath me, forehead pressed to the arm of the couch, fingers clawing at the cushion as if she needs something to hold onto before she falls apart again.

But I’m not giving her anything to hold on to.