Page 51 of Delta

"Like this?" A thrust, but another small one. Not enough.

"More," I whisper.

"Is it gentle enough?"

"Don't be—" I start, and then he thrusts deeper, cutting me off. I start again. "Don't be an asshole, Rush. You know what I meant."

He rumbles a laugh, his chest vibrating against my back. "Well, never let it be said I don't listen. You said to be careful, so I'm being careful. If you want something different, all's you gotta do is ask, love."

"I need all of you inside me, Rush. Give me your cock. Please. All of it."

"Ahhh, god, fuck me, I thought you'd never ask." His mouth rests on my shoulder, and then his teeth sink into the ridge of muscle as he slides into me, inch by endless, massive inch. God, it takes an eternity for him to fill me, and the more he does the more I ache, the more my pussy has to stretch to accommodate him. It's almost too much—almost.

He growls as he seats himself inside me, teeth digging into my skin and muscle. His hands crush-grip mine. After what feels like a thousand years, Rush is finally fully impaled inside my pussy.

"Rush!" I whimper. "You feel—oh god."

"Tell me, Beautiful Bryn. Tell me how I feel inside your hot, tight, wet, perfect little pussy." He thrusts against me, hips pushing against my ass cheeks to slide his cock just a little deeper. "Fuck, Bryn. Tell me how I feel. Tell me it's as good for you as it is for me."

"Rush, I—" I swallow, gasp, gagging on my ragged breath. "Fuck. Too good."

I'm dizzy, delirious, my knees weak—the only thing keeping me upright is Rush, his cock inside me, and his body all around me. I lift on my tiptoes, driving my hips forward, and I feel him slip out of me a few inches.

"That's it, Bryn, take me. Show me how you like it." His voice is raspy and rough, hoarse with strained need.

I let myself fall onto my heels, and he's driven into me to the hilt—we both groan in unison.

“Oh fuck, Bryn," he breathes. "It's like that, is it? That’s how you want it, ey?" He nips my earlobe—the man likes to bite, apparently. "Seems like you do like it a bit rough."

"Maybe," I groan. "Or maybe it's just you."

"You want it rough like that, then this won't be a long fuck. You feel so fucking good, Bryn. You want it rough, then I'm gonna come really fucking hard and really fucking fast."

"God, yes," I hiss, rocking my pussy around him. "Give it to me, Rush. Hard and fast."

He presses my hands flat against the glass. "Leave 'em there," he orders. I nod, but he doesn't let go. "Yes, Rush. Let me hear you, Beautiful."

“Yes, Rush."

Fuck, I shouldn't like this so much. I shouldn't secretly love being ordered around. I shouldn't be so close to orgasm, I'm shaking when he hasn't even thrust twice. But I am. I do love it. I'm getting off on submitting to him. Obeying him. It's fucking hot, and I don't know why.

Worry about that later.

For now, just enjoy being fucked.

His hands skate down my arms, tickle my armpits, and then cup my tits. "Love these tits, Bryn. Fucking perfect. Know why?"

"Why, Rush?"

He grips them and holds on tight, using them to pull me backward as he draws out and slams back into me. "Because they're perfect handholds for fucking you. Just the right size. A nice, plump handful each."

"Ohhhh, fuck. Fuck. Yes. So good, Rush."

He plunders my pussy like that for several minutes, then, and I lose track of time, thoughtless but for the gasp and groans of pleasure as he fucks me, his fat hard cock throbbing through me, pulsing inside me, stretching me to a glorious burn. Each thrust is unhurried and measured, sliding into me until his hips clap against my ass, and then ending with him driving in that last inch or two with a hard push.

I feel myself rising to orgasm slowly—slowly. Each slow, hard thrust takes me higher, until I'm shaking and shuddering, whimpering and whining, wanting to push into him to get him deeper, to take him harder, to make him fuck me faster. But I can't. I'm helpless. Pinned against the glass, arms overhead, fucked up onto my toes, I have no leverage, no leeway for movement. All I can do is take what he gives me.

And what he's giving me is glorious—and not enough.