Page 38 of Masterson Made
“Fine. I’m saying the words. I want it,” she says with monotone inflection.
I use an open hand and slap her wet pussy hard with one swift motion.
“Hey!”
“You can chill with the theatrics, Duchess. You’re not fooling anybody. You’re wet as hell right now and you want me just as much as I want you. Now ask for it the right fucking way or I’ll tie you to this desk for the rest of the night and go make myself a sandwich.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Still waiting,” I say, as I gingerly pull and roll her clit with two of my fingers. She raises her hips in response.
“Okay, you win.”
“What do I win?”
“Please… I… want, I need you to fuck me, Masterson.”
Now we’re finally getting somewhere.
“When?”
I unbuckle my belt.
“Now.”
“Where?” I growl eagerly.
“On this desk.”
My dick is furious with all of this foreplay, making the crotch of my jeans feel compressed and damn near painful. I unzip myself and my cock forcefully juts out, ready to get to work.
“How?” I grit the last question through my teeth.
“Hard.”
Thank fuck.
I return my mouth back in between Elizabeth’s legs and ravage her pussy until her body tightens hard like a drum. It doesn’t take long for her to unleash.
“I’m coming!” she exclaims almost painfully.
Her orgasm rocks her hard as her entire body contorts to its release. Her back arches into a perfect bow and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She’s never looked more beautiful, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more desperate for this woman in my life.
I stand up with her hips and ass in my hand and quickly enter inside of her soaking wet, clenched walls.
My refuge.
My home.
My favorite place on earth.
It’s been so long that we’ve been with each other like this, without caution, and with a pure abandonment that I can almost hear her pussy asking me where I’ve been and what took me so long to return.
Elizabeth finally relinquishes her anger to the moment and clasps her full breasts as I bang the hell out of her pussy.
“Did you miss me?” I ask through punishing strokes.
“Roman—”
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