Page 27 of Hot Vampire Next Door: Season Five
My pussy throbs, so fucking ready, and I can feel the dampness coating my panties.
Suddenly the dildo is gone making my lips pop at the loss and when I look up, Bran is gone too.
A second later, he rips off my pants, the fae tunic, and every last shred of fabric on my body. When my nipples hit the air, they harden to peaks and Bran reaches around from behind me, pinching one between his fingers as he teases my opening with the soaking wet dildo.
I whimper, pushing back into him, wanting him to fill me up, either with himself, or the toy. But he does neither, because he likes to torture me.
Taking my breast in the palm of his hand, he traps my nipple between two knuckles while holding to me tightly.
He sinks the toy an inch inside of me and I wiggle my hips, looking for more.
“Be patient, Mouse,” he warns.
“I don’t want to,” I tell him.
His hand leaves my breast and smacks me across the ass, causing me to yelp.
“Be patient,” he repeats.
“Okay,” I say, a little breathy, my clit throbbing with anticipation.
There is no sound in Bran’s house other than the distant ticking of a clock. It’s so quiet that I can hear the raggedness of my breath and the wetness of my pussy. I sound so damn needy, but I don’t care.
I am.
When Bran and I are fucking, nothing can touch us. Not even war.
“Which hole should I fill, Mouse?” he asks as he slips the dildo inside of me another inch eliciting a long groan from my throat.
“Any,” I breathe out.
He smacks me again on the ass and my body tenses up from the sudden sting.
“When I tell you to choose, you choose.”
It’s been a while since he’s been in my ass and I don’t know if I can take him. The dildo is smaller.
“Fuck my pussy,” I tell him.
“Good girl. Hold still.”
Elbows planted on the arm of the couch, I dare not move.
Something cold and wet hits my ass and I realize it’s lube he’s produced from somewhere. Maybe my bedroom or his.
I let out a little yelp until he rubs the head of the dildo against my hole. I’m so sensitive there, the pleasure is immediate, and my face flushes.
He’s slow and deliberate, careful not to overdo it. The head of the toy opens me up, stretching me for more.
Pressure and pleasure and pain all mix together as he sinks the toy further inside of me. My hands curl over the arm of the couch as my clit throbs for any kind of friction or touch.
When will he stop torturing me?
He gets another inch inside of me and then slowly pulls out, then slowly pushes back in.
Reaching up, he takes a chunk of my hair and yanks my head back. “How does that feel?”
“I want more,” I whine. “I want you inside of me too.”
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