Page 27 of Want Me
The air cracked, and a sting spread its warmth over my asscheek. I barked out a startled laugh as I twisted to stare at him over my shoulder. “Did you just fucking spank me?”
“Yeah.” He grinned, shameless enjoyment in the wide curve. “And I’m about to do it again.”
“What the fuck?” I tried to summon up some indignation. Ask me on any given day, and I’d tell you I wasn’t into spanking. But shit, right now? I was.
“Can’t help it. Got this desire to see my handprints all over the ass I’m fucking.” His smile went sharp as he brought his hand down hard on my ass again, and laughter died in my throat as heat radiated outward. I shifted my weight as it the warmth spread, first along my sides and then down the backs of my legs before it condensed in my balls and tightened them.
He smacked me once more, and I grunted at the same moment he did.
“Jesus fuck,” I ground out through clenched teeth.
“Ready for me?”
“Fuck yeah.”
He worked me loose, but this time there was no playing around, and soon enough his fat cock head pushed inside me. I shuddered as he paused and traced what I guessed was his thumb around the place where we joined.
“Shit, that’s so fucking hot. You might actually be the hottest piece of ass I’ve fucked.”
I clenched around him, turning his raspy chuckle into a moan. “Stop talking and fuck me.”
“So goddamn mouthy.” He wedged a finger inside me alongside his cock, stretching me into tense-jawed silence. And then he began. Slowly at first, gliding back and forth in shallow thrusts, his hands settling on either side of my ass to keep me spread open. I wondered if I would ever get to do the same to him, or if I’d even really want to. Because the truth was, I liked every second of him taking charge. There was a strange and very subtle sense of balance between us, regardless of who was kneeling for whom. It ebbed and flowed and from one minute to the next, I was never sure where we’d be going. But I knew it would feel amazing.
I closed my hands over the edge of the desk and held on for dear life as Eric started pounding into me with force, pausing only to slide a hand down the back of my thigh and hike my knee up on the desk. What I meant to be some wry comment about him trying to punch a hole through me came out as garbled syllables when he withdrew and plunged in again. An electric shiver rattled up my spine.
“Oh shit,” I whispered, each of his thrusts like a high-tide rising, eating away at the shoreline of my restraint.
“Like it?”
“Fuck yeah. Don’t stop.”
He did something with his hips, some sort of wicked-ass limber scooping action that knocked his fat head right against my prostate. With his other hand, he reached around me, and I exhaled in relief. But nope. Instead of fisting my shaft, he grabbed my root between thumb and forefinger and cupped up my balls, staving off my orgasm.
“Goddammit!” I didn’t even have time to argue before he withdrew and grabbed me by the hips, shoving me down to my knees. He yanked my head back and braced me against one thigh as he snapped the condom off and gripped his cock. “Open.” At the command, my jaw snapped wide like it was on a hinge he controlled.
He slapped his knob against my mouth, giving me another hit of his salty taste and the faint residue of latex. I flicked my tongue over his tip as he gave himself one more stroke, then came on a groan, his release pouring over me, coating my lips, tongue, and chin. My scalp stung from his grip, but he kept holding on as he drifted his fingers over my cheek and along my jaw, pushing his spunk into my mouth. I sucked them clean, groaning at the sheer filthiness of the moment and the torturous pressure in my balls.
Urging me upright, Eric steadied me with his hands on my hips, his cock softening and dangling against his pants. Without warning, he gripped my cock and dropped to his knees, taking me into the slippery heat of his mouth. I sagged back against the desk, bracing my hands against the edge and crying out at relief on the horizon.
Eric hoovered me like nothing else. Scratch that; he flat out Dysoned me as I drove into him and rocked against the finger he thrust inside me.
“Oh fuck,” I whispered, over and over like a broken record as I punched my hips into him and he just took it like a fucking champ. No, fuck that, he wasn’t just taking it. I didn’t think Eric had “just taken” anything in his life. He was enjoying the hell out of this, the wet smack and slurp of his lips on me, the saliva glazing his chin and lips, dribbling onto the floor, and that feverish gaze pinned to mine so he could witness every second of my fall.
I shattered on a hard final thrust, feeling my hole clamp down on his finger, the vibration of his grunt as I unloaded into the back of his throat and he milked me dry.
I slumped backward against the desk, panting through my comedown, my knees weak.
Eric collapsed almost comically backward as he swiped his forearm over his mouth, then arched his hips, tucking himself away. “Fuck, I’m dead.”
“Likewise.”
He grinned as I reached out to help him up. For a single, intense second, our eyes locked together before he backed away, tucking in his shirt, and then tossing me mine after I’d finished hitching my pants up from around my ankles.
My whole body still reeled from that orgasm, little twitches pinging through me like a car engine trying to cool down. I liked the lingering flavor of him in my mouth, too.
It took me two tries to get my dick back in my pants and buttoned up.
“Worth the wait?” he asked, smoothing a hand down his shirt.