Page 17 of His Wisconsin Wallflower (Stateside Doms #25)

He leaned down to brush his lips against her skin as he began to explore her body. “You’re so beautiful, Raisa,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. “I love how smart you are, how you’re not afraid to speak your mind.” He kissed her neck, her collarbone, each word a caress.

He took his time playing with her breasts and nibbling on her skin, discovering what her hot spots were. He loved how responsive she was, and how she struggled with her breathing and the bindings as he drove her up and up.

Grinning, he noticed how her belly quivered, and her legs shook once he settled between her thighs and looked his fill.

“My baby likes to be tied down and helpless,” he murmured, swiping a finger through her wet folds and stroking the inside of her thigh, letting her feel for herself how wet she was for him.

Raisa’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. “Quinten,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and desire.

“Are you ready to come for me?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer, but settled in. He found her most sensitive spot with his mouth and began to feast on her with a fervor that left her gasping. “You taste so good,” he groaned against her pussy, before dipping his tongue inside and letting it do its magic.

His senses were on fire. He drank in every single detail, how her body responded to his every touch. She gulped in air and held her breath.

Lifting his head, he pressed a finger inside her. She was so fucking tight, managed to add another, and found the spongy spot. Making a ‘come here’ gesture with both fingers, he ordered, “Come for me, baby,” before lowering his head and sucking her clit into his mouth.

Letting out a hoarse cry, she flew apart beneath his touch. Her hips bucked despite the bindings, and he lapped up every drop of cream she was spilling, enjoying the tangy-sweet taste of her.

She’s perfect.

Bringing her down with the soft swipes of his tongue, he withdrew his fingers, grinning when her greedy cunt tried to suck them back in.

Don’t worry—you’ll be taking my dick next.

Quinten crawled up the mattress slowly, savoring the view. Her body was spread open and flushed, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks while her chest rose and fell in stuttering breaths. He left her ankles bound, liking the way the tension kept her open, but reached for her wrists.

He worked the knot at her wrists so that the bindings loosened, falling away with a soft whisper against the sheets. She didn’t say anything—simply blinked up at him, dazed and flushed.

The moment her arms were free, she wrapped them around his neck and pulled him down, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. Her body melted into his, soft and warm and trusting.

Quinten exhaled, tension draining from his chest like air from a balloon. He buried a hand in her hair and held her close, letting her cling to him. Yeah. That was what she needed. Connection. The solid weight of him above her, the reassurance of her hands in motion.

She nuzzled into the crook of his neck with a tiny sigh, and something in his chest tugged hard. He could still feel the damp heat between her thighs, his cock throbbing with the need to be inside her, but he didn’t move.

Not yet.

He let her hold him first.

When her breathing regulated, she stirred, and he glanced down at her.

Raise blinked up at him, looking dazed and glowing. He kissed her temple, her jaw, the side of her neck. His caresses were slow and tender passes of his lips that had nothing to do with arousal and everything to do with worship.

She trembled against him, still high, still letting it settle as she quested with her fingertips over his shoulders, up the thick cords of muscle along his neck and across the expanse of his upper back.

She lingered there, almost kneading. He grinned into her hair.

She liked his muscles as much as he liked her softness.

She didn’t see herself clearly, not yet. She was too self-conscious and unsure about her own appeal. That was about to change. He’d spend all night, the rest of his life if he had to, fucking the doubt right out of her.

She moved in his arms, breath warm against his collarbone, and those beautiful, sleep-heavy eyes blinked open. “Can I return the favor?”

He cocked his head, brushing a knuckle along her jaw. “Not tonight.” He let his voice drop to a low, possessive rumble. “I want to fuck you, bright eyes. Are you good with that?”

She gave the tiniest nod.

He arched a brow. “That’s not a word, baby.”

Her cheeks darkened, but her voice came out steady enough. “Yes. Please.”

He reached for the nightstand, grabbed a condom, and stood to shed his clothes. She tracked every movement, every inch of skin he revealed. When he rolled the latex on, her eyes stayed fixed on his hands, and his cock twitched under her attention.

He chuckled. “The little fucker is impatient to be in you.”

Her smile was shy, but she held out her arms in invitation.

So fucking sweet!

He leaned in and retied her wrists with practiced movements. Her breath caught, but she didn’t resist. She merely watched him with those blown, trusting eyes.

Quinten knelt between her thighs, positioning himself at her entrance, one hand braced beside her head. “Still good?”

She gave a breathless nod, pelvis lifting in silent plea.

His voice went low, coaxing. “Yeah, I’d like to hear the words.”

“Please, Quinten,” she whispered, breath shaking. “Take me.”

His name on her lips cracked something open inside him. He rocked his hips forward, easing into her inch by inch. She winced—God, she was tight—but he surged forward in one long agonizingly slow thrust, until their groins were flush together.

She gasped, and her muscles gripped him hard.

He stilled, burying his face in her neck, whispering sweet nothings against her skin.

“You’re so hot and tight… Oh baby, you feel so good.

Can’t believe I’m finally inside you.” He kissed the shell of her ear, his breath ragged as he fought against the urged to pound into her.

Her pussy was gripping him like a slick fist. Quinten stayed buried to the hilt, letting her adjust, holding himself still, even as every instinct screamed to move.

Her breath stuttered against his neck, and her body trembled beneath his from the overwhelming stretch of being filled so completely.

“Breathe for me,” he whispered, brushing his lips along her temple. “You’re doing so good, bright eyes. Just let go. I’ve got you.”

He felt the moment her muscles eased, and he kissed her mouth gently before pulling back, savoring the sucking of her wet pussy, until only the tip of his cock remained inside her. Then he slid back in with one long, controlled thrust.

Her head tipped back against the pillow, lips parting on a low moan.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Let me hear you.”

He drew back, slow and steady, dragging himself through her body’s tight channel. The friction was mind-melting. He could feel every inch of her and how wet she was for him. He savored how she fluttered around his cock as he withdrew nearly all the way.

Then he sank back in, a little harder, watching her mouth part on a gasp. Her wrists flexed in the bindings above her head, but she didn’t pull away. Her legs trembled, still tied wide, every muscle straining toward him.

He set a slow rhythm, angling just right to hit her g-spot with every long, deep stroke.

Each one made her hips lift, her breath catch, and her legs strain against the bindings.

She felt like heaven, velvet heat wrapped around the head of his dick, and she clenched tighter every time he bottomed out.

His pace grew frantic, and he had to grip the bedsheet, fingertips digging in. He rolled his hips again, deeper this time, adjusting his angle until she moaned into his mouth. Her thighs shivered as he hit just the right spot, and her back arched, despite the bindings.

“There.” He dragged his tongue of the column of her throat. “That’s it. That’s where you need me, isn’t it?”

She whimpered in response, her hips trying to follow him when he pulled back again.

He gave her more. Worked in and out of her in long, even thrusts that built slow pressure between them.

Each time he filled her, he kissed a new place: her throat, the dip between her breasts, the swell of her shoulder.

Her fingers curled into fists, her breathing ragged.

“That’s it, bright-eyes,” he whispered, lips at her ear. “Take it. Let me give you everything.”

Her entire body tightened beneath him, every nerve lit up. He felt her flutter around him, building again. Slow strokes turned deeper. More precise. Controlled, but barely. And fuck—he was already fighting the edge.

The half gasps, half helpless whimpers she made fueled the fire building in his spine, but he didn’t rush. He wasn’t ready to give into his body. Not with her looking at him like that.

He kissed her again, devouring the sound of her pleasure.

“You feel like you were made for me,” he growled against her lips. “Perfect fit. Fuck, Raisa—look at me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and wide, and when their gazes locked something clicked into place.

He thrust deeper, harder now, letting the edge of his control slip. Her back arched, and her breath hitched.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” she chanted. “Please... don’t stop.”

He wasn’t going to. Not until she shattered around him again. Not until she knew—without a single doubt—how much he wanted her.

He adjusted his weight, his left hand braced beside her head, the other curling under her ass, tilting her just right. At the next thrust, he hit her clit. The change sent her breath hitching, her eyes flying open, her gaze—darkened—with need fixed on his.

“That’s it,” he murmured, thrusting deep, then grinding his hips into hers. “I can feel you tightening around me. You’re right there, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer with words, didn’t seem to have the breath for it. Her head tipped back, mouth open on a soundless gasp. Her thighs trembled against the bindings. Then her whole body locked up, every muscle taut and shaking.

Her breathing hitch. He surged into her again, and again. “Come for me.”

And then she shattered.

Her cry tore out of her—raw and wrecked—as her inner walls clamped down on his cock in tight, rhythmic pulses.

Her back arched hard off the mattress, heels digging into the sheets, as she strained against the ties.

Her breath hitched, then caught completely as her orgasm rolled through her in crashing waves.

Her face contorted, overwhelmed, desperate, and beautiful.

Every inch of her begged for more even as she flew apart, her body writhing under him, trembling with release.

It was too much for the precarious hold he had on his control.

Quinten groaned, as her orgasm dragged his right out of him. The hot, tight, and impossibly wet way she clenched around him ripped away the last thread.

His rhythm faltered.

His hips snapped forward, one last time, burying himself to the root. He stilled as his blinding and brutal release crashed through him. Heat surged up his spine and spilled out of him in deep, pulsing waves, drawn from the center of his soul. His body bowed into hers

His heart hammered

His vision dimmed.

His mind blanked.

He clutched her hips, grounding himself her—slick, shaking, and wrapped tight around him—pussy like she never wanted to let him go.

He dropped his forehead to hers, still throbbing inside her, their breath tangling in the narrow space between their mouths.

When the wave finally passed, he kissed her—soft and reverent. “I’m not done with you yet, bright-eyes,” he murmured. “Not even close.”