Page 127 of Stone: The Precursor

He tucks his hand in the waistband of my stockings and yanks me forward, and I crash into his chest. He cups one of myass cheeks in his big hand, those ring-covered fingers crushed into my muscle.

“Feel what, Countess? My fingers deep inside your pussy?”

“Yes, please, Stone.”

“Did you fuck yourself in the bed I bought you? Did you touch yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere. I pretended it was you touching me, pushing your fingers inside me.”

“Greedy girl.”

He cradles one of my breasts and pushes it up, thumbing the nipple repeatedly, keeping his eyes on me the entire time. I heave in a breath, waiting for him to do something, anything to my body. The heat from his mouth on my nipple makes me arch my back. I hold his head, gripping his hair as he sucks, tugging on my nipple. I feel the pull deep inside me. He switches to the other breast, giving my nipple the same ravenous attention.

The sound of rending fabric startles me, causing me to jerk. I look down and see that he’s ripped the seat of both my tights and underwear away, leaving a shredded opening. Cool air hits my pussy, and for a moment, I realize I’m in my gallery. The door is unlocked. Anyone would come in and see me, all but naked, but I don’t give two shits. Seconds later, the tip of his middle finger slides slowly through my wetness. “Please, Stone.”

He boosts me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist, holding onto his shoulders. My mouth opens greedily when he starts to lick my lips. I slide my tongue along his, tasting that cherry smoke that I can’t get out of my mind. It’s stamped on my taste buds.

The bite of my lower lip coincides with the firm push of his finger deep inside me. I grip his face, holding his face steady as I taste my blood in our mouths. The thick finger curls, and mybody lights up. I rock my hips against his hand, and when he adds another finger, I moan deep in his mouth, tilting my head to the side, wanting to swallow him whole. His thumb grazes the small knot of flesh, and I see stars, so wet that I can hear the squishing sounds. I arch my back, holding his wrist as he manipulates his fingers inside me.

He removes his fingers, and I cry out, wanting them back. “No, please.”

“I like how needy you are, Countess.”

I groan when he rubs wet fingers along my lips, letting my bottom lip bounce. “Open. Tell me how your pussy tastes.” My lips part, and I suck his finger into my mouth, relishing the taste of my own fluids. Never in my life have I been nasty like this, gluttonous to be as filthy with him as possible. Holding his wrist, I lick myself clean from his fingers, staring at him the whole while. Finished, I push his hand back over my breasts, and reach between us, tearing at his belt buckle, blinded by lust.

He helps me, unzipping his pants. There are no underwear to deal with, and soon my hands meet his lush, springy pubic hair. Snaking my hands down, he grunts when I finally locate hot flesh, barely able to close my fingers around his thickness. I push down further until I encounter those telltale barbells. I shiver remembering how they feel inside me. He pushes into my hand, a silent command to keep touching him. I stare at him when I stroke his velvety skin.

I pull his dick out and watch as the bead of cum pearls in his slit. I smooth my thumb over it and bring it to my mouth, tasting the sharp tang of him. Then I smirk, going back for more, and bringing it to his mouth, teasing him.

“You think I’m scared to taste myself, Countess?” He grabs my wrist and sucks my thumb, slowly drawing my thumb in and out of his mouth. “Although my cum tastes better when I taste iton my pussy or your nipples. Take my dick out, I want my cum inside you.”

That imperious command cranks up my desire, and I tug him all the way out, and he hitches me up higher, holding my legs open, he continues. “Go ahead. You said you wanted it.” He doesn’t think I’ll do it. I grip his cock and rub it over my clit, watching the crown get coated. The sight of his tattooed dick in my hands, the dark, patterned tip glistening.

“Inside, Countess. Now.”

I position him at my entrance, and without any preparation, he pushes inside me. I tense at the unrelenting pressure, still not fully ready.

“Make your cunt wetter. Play with yourself.”

I release his dick and rub my clit, watching the tightness in his jaw, the utter focus on his face. I rub myself slowly, breathing him in, moaning when he pulls out and pushes back inside, slow and measured.

“Tightest pussy I’ve ever had, Countess.”

His thrusts get deeper, each piston of his hips adding to the coiling pleasure. I rub myself harder, and he watches. “That’s it, fuck yourself. Get all that anger out.”

I do as he says and rub harder, as he strokes faster, deeper, angling his dick in just the right way for me to feel like my body is coming apart.

The slap and grind of our bodies echoes in the small room.

“Is this what you want to feel, Countess?”

My fingers press harder, my arm and wrists ache, but I can’t stop. With each pass, I feel his wet shaft hammering inside me. “Yes, Fuck that feels good. More.”

He steps closer and wraps my legs around his waist, trapping my arm between us. I wrap my free hand around his neck and hold on as he fucks me into the wall. The sound of the wall rattling is nothing compared to the vibrations inside me. Hisbody presses me into the wall, forcing my fingers harder against my clit. The ecstasy he’s creating is like a drug, intoxicating. I bite his neck when it becomes too much, and I feel my climax start to roll through me.