Page 129 of Hate Me Like You Mean It

My eyes kept rolling, my moans and cries drowned out by the wet sounds of Dominic’s hard thrusts and his intoxicating words.

“You better not fucking come,” he growled against my ear as I started to quiver around him.

“Ohmygod, Dom!”

His palm slipped over my mouth. “Scream like that when my wife is home and I’ll stuff your mouth with a fucking dildo and tape it shut.”

Good lord.

His brain may have been the sluttiest of all the brains. The man’s imagination wasfilthy.

My toes were tingling, a hurricane stirring at the pit of my stomach. I wanted to play with him forever, whether it was this game or whatever we invented next.

I whimpered into his hand, sweat gathering over my back as the ripples of pleasure grew overwhelming.

It was so good with him.

It felt so good.

Right there. Right there. Right…

The orgasm rammed into me so hard I convulsed. My body jerked, my joints curling as a thousand fireworks detonated in my core at the same time. I blacked out for a second.

“I told you not to fucking come,” he gritted out, slamming into me harder. If I didn’t come out of this with at least one gnarly bruise, I was going to be sorely disappointed. “Just for that, I’m going to fuck you in the ass tomorrow. Just like this.”

There was no mercy. He didn’t relent or give me a single second to breathe and recover.

So the orgasm just kept going. And going. And going.

And then it started to rev up again.

“Maybe I’ll stuff your pussy with one of your precious toys while I do it. Turn you into my own personal vibrating Fleshlight while I train you to take two cocks at once.” His voice had taken on a new grating edge, the harsh movements of his hips increasingly erratic. “It’s what you fucking deserve for being such a fucking cocktease. You’re mine, got it? I can do whatever the fuck I want, because you’re fucking mine.”

Every inch of my body was burning in an inferno. The second orgasm was an earth-shattering tsunami of pleasure. So much pleasure that it grazed the edge of pain.

I screamed, ripping half the duvet off the bed, my thighs fighting against their restraint.

Dominic moved his palm from my mouth to my throat. “You’re mine. You’re fucking mine, Alice. Made for me. You weremade for me.” His tongue dragged over the side of my cheek while I pulsed around him, squeezing grunt after groan after moan out of him. “Never again… letting you go… perfect… you’re fucking perfect… anything… I’ll fucking do anything… take such good care of you, baby… I… you’re… fuck. Fuck.Fuck.”

He tensed with a pained, rough groan. The next few thrusts were stiff, uncontrolled, and bruisingly rough. He was balls-deep, cursing and shaking. It went on for so long that, had I not been half-dead under him, I would have looked back to make sure he was okay.

My eyelids fluttered when he finally collapsed on top of me. His weight was as crushing as it was comforting.

“S… Fuck, sorry,” he heaved, trying to push himself off.

“Don’t,” I pleaded. “Not yet.”

After a minute or so, while my eyes were still closed, I felt the tender graze of his fingers brush the hair away from my face. “Holy shit, Alice.”

“Mmmm,” I agreed.

“That was…”

“Mmmm.”

He trailed kisses up and down my shoulder and neck. “You’re fucking incredible, you know that?”

“Thankyouyes,” I mumbled.