Page 191 of King of Pain

Then I rise, grab the base of his dick to steady it, and spin around to face the opposite direction. And I sink all the way back down.

Ant gasps. “Jesus.”

He grips my hips, and as I lean back for the angle, he drives up into me.

His feet plant flat on the bed, hips lifted and pumping into me with such force I have to grip the bedding to steady myself.

He shifts—slotting the tops of his knees in the back of mine—and lifts his hips even higher, suspending me above him, skewered on his dick.

“Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me?” I cry out, losing my mind. “You’re gonna make me come, baby.”

“Yeah?”

He drops his hips, pulls me down so my back’s flush against his chest, and buries his face in my neck again.

His arms band around my chest, holding me in place, then his thrusts quicken.

It’s fast, deep, and relentless.

“You’ll come when I say you can,” he whispers in my ear, then pounds into me harder.

“Whose hole is this?”

“Y-yours. It’s your hole,” I pant. “Ant—”

“Come.”

I do. With one stroke of my hand, I shoot, coating my abs with a guttural moan that rips out of me.

It’s nothing compared to the sound that tears from Ant’s throat when he comes inside me.

I brace on one arm, jerking the last of my release out, watching it spill over my knuckles.

I collapse on top of him, unable to move, limbs trembling.

When the aftershocks subside, Ant rolls us to our sides and pulls me into him, not giving a damn about the mess.

He’s still inside me, holding me full. Making sure I stay marked.

Eventually, he pulls out, kisses my shoulder and heads to the bathroom. I hear the water running for a bit.

I don’t move. I lie there in the position he left me, smiling like a blissed-out idiot.

An idiot that just got dicked-down.

Thoroughly fucked.

I’m still catching my breath when I feel the mattress shift beside me. Ant gently brushes the sweat-dampened hair back from my forehead with his hand.

Then he rolls me onto my back and cleans me—chest, abs, cock—before tossing the cloth into the hamper.

“Jesus,” he murmurs as he lays back down next to me, voice thick with satisfaction. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

I grin at him. “No. You can’t die. I still need that dick.”

Dinner smells like heaven.

I’m sitting at the dining table, elbows propped lazily, watching Ant.