Page 80 of Illicit Games

“You, Kian.”

“Did you get on the pill?”

“No,” I lie, hoping to look convincing. It’s not just him who needs the fantasy. I do too. With the threats looming over our heads, I don’t want to get pregnant until they pass. So, I decided to get on birth control, even though it went against everything I wanted.

Kian’s shoulders pull taut as he watches my expression for a beat. Tilting his head, he says low, “Guess we’ll find out soon enough since I plan to keep your pussy filled with my cum day and night.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?”

A slow smirk spreads across his lips. “Like you aren’t terrified enough of my cock?”

Fuck! I am.

Am I going to pass out like I do every time he fucks my throat? Is it going to be the same every time I take him in my pussy?

Why does that excite me?

Licking my dry lips, I remind him, “You said you’d go slow, Kian.”

“I will,” he promises, before his voice drops an octave. “Only the first time. Until I eradicate all your fears. You’ll fit all of me. Even better, you’ll love every second of it.”

“I know.”

“Spread your legs wide.”

Bending my knees, I part my thighs as far as they can go. It’s how he likes it. My pussy crudely on display.

Like the night he saw me naked for the first time at his apartment, he stares between the apex of my thighs raptly. Unlike then, I don’t have the urge to hide. I keep still with my eyes fixed on his angular face, letting him have his fill.

He comes closer and crawls onto the bed.

“You’re not drenched enough, baby.”

“No?” My tone is sultry. “I feel plenty wet.”

His lustful pupils snap to mine. “It would be plenty if I were going to stretch your cunt with my fingers first, which I’m not. I want to feel you stretch open for me around my cock until I’m buried to the hilt. When I pull out, I want to see your blood painting my shaft. So no, Iris, you aren’t plenty wet. You’re not even close.”

My bravado falters, even as my thighs press together.

Kian wrenches them apart and fits his broad shoulders between them. “Watch me as I make you a soaked mess.”

I rise on my elbows just as his mouth latches onto my clit, lapping at it teasingly. The wicked sight and the sensation force a fresh wave of arousal to stream out of me. “Ahh! Yes.”

“That’s it. Drip for me.”

He rolls around the little nub in slow and torturous circles that drive me wild. He uses my weakness against me to do his bidding. His strokes are short and precise enough not to let me come over his tongue. I’m mindless and disoriented, as I keep dripping to no avail. He’s purposely doing this and I want to yell, even as I know it’s for my benefit.

His cock is a beast.

A long and thick monstrosity.

I’m the naïve little prey who claimed it as hers.

“K-Kian, let me come,” I plead, pushing against his mouth.

He pins my thighs down. “Only around my cock.”

Lifting his head a fraction, he spits onto my pussy, letting it trickle to my opening. Satisfied with the sopping mess he’s left me, his lips kiss up my stomach.