Page 10 of Wear Me Out (The AfterGlow #3)
adam
I stalked toward her, not wanting to waste another second.
She’d almost been punished enough for her insolence.
Almost . As much as I loved watching her get passed around from person to person, I was done sharing for tonight.
I’d been incredibly generous letting four other friends have their way with her. It was my turn.
All but naked, she was sitting in the middle of the bed, ravished from the last hours in the club. Her eyes were wide and pleading, desperate for a release. I needed to take the punishment into my own hands. Literally. I wanted to touch her now. I wanted to come.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked, reaching out and stroking my cheek.
I climbed onto the bed and crawled over her body. She fell back against the sheets, waiting for my next move.
“Take it like the good girl I know you are,” I answered, sinking between her legs and thrusting against her pussy.
Taking my clothes off wasn’t an option. My brain was on another planet at this point, and I needed physical contact as quickly as I could get it.
I rubbed my pelvis on her, the pressure enough to cause a delicious amount of friction through my slacks.
There was no stopping. I couldn’t help myself.
The urge to fuck her was unleashed as soon as Piper and Brooke left the room, and I needed to get my body on hers without interruption.
“Fuck, Lilah,” I hissed into her ear.
“Right there,” she moaned.
The stiff fabric of my fly rubbed directly against her pussy.
We were both consumed by the feel of friction at that moment.
My cock strained from inside my pants and I rutted into her, lost in my overwhelming need.
Her tits bounced in time with my thrusts.
Circle after circle, the soft flesh undulated with my repeated motions against her body, hypnotizing me.
“I feel like a fucking teenager,” I grunted, driving myself harder into her—faster.
She giggled and it ignited my insides. I hadn’t heard her laugh all night. When it was just me and her, she was free to let go and be her truest self. I adored the musical lilt of her giggle. Every time she made that sound, it brought me back to when we first met five years ago.
I clasped her hands and stretched them over her head, entwining my fingers with hers.
The satin sheets were smooth and cool to the touch.
The way her dark hair fanned out on the crisp, white pillowcase was striking.
My dark, bratty angel. Writhing under me.
Naked under me. Meeting me thrust for thrust?—
“Fuck. I’m going to come,” I groaned.
“In your pants?” she asked, giggling again, sighing at the ease between us now.
“Like a fucking teenager,” I repeated, hips faltering in their pace as my release flooded my underwear. “That’s going to be a ridiculous mess. ”
She bit her lip before saying, “I don’t mind.”
I licked her cheek before rolling off her to the side. “Has it been a good night?”
“Of course, boss,” she hummed, stretching out across the bed before laying a palm on my chest.
“Even though you’ve been denied every single time you’ve been fucked?” I took hold of her hand and rubbed my thumb over the back of it.
She exhaled, ending with a melodic hum that came straight from the center of her chest. “You know that makes it better for me by the time we get there. And I don’t actually want to come with anyone other than you, anyway.”
“I promise my original plan wasn’t to bust in my pants, pet.”
She propped herself up on one elbow and ran a finger down my chest, circling each button of my dress shirt before moving onto the next. “So, tell me what you were supposed to do.”
“I wanted to rip that crotchless thong off you and pour a jar of black cherry syrup all over your body. Then, I was going to taste every single inch of you from your lips to your ankles—lapping up all the sweetness. Once I’d finished with that, the idea was to fuck your tits and give you a pretty pearl necklace for being such a good slut for me. ”
She hummed her approval. “And do I ever get to finish in this ideal situation of yours?”
“When I finally fuck you—yes. Then you get to come.”
Turning to lay on her back, she lifted her hips and dragged her underwear down her legs. She tossed it off the bed in the direction of their dresser. “Go get the cherries, boss.”
Even though she was worn out, I loved that she was still willing to play.
Over the years, I’d taken pride in my ability to read my significant others.
A good dom listens and pays attention to their partners.
In fact, in my opinion, doms should always do more listening than talking.
It wasn’t about barking orders. It was about trust. And if Lilah had had enough, then we would be done.
But here she was, naked on our bed, still willing to let me use her for whatever I wanted—despite being denied all fucking night.
She was my final partner. The one that made me never want to look outside for any other person. She was it for me.
The past five years had been extraordinary, both in and out of the bedroom.
The gap in our age never bothered me or her, and every single one of our friends couldn’t care less.
If anything, it turned Lilah on. Tonight was proof.
The moment she uttered the word daddy , I was a goner.
But where would be the fun in just allowing her to call me that?
I loved making her earn what she wanted.
In fact, I wanted to make her earn every fucking thing I could for the rest of my life.
If tonight went the way I hoped, maybe that would become my reality.
I rolled off the side of the bed and went to the mini-fridge.
A jar of black cherry syrup, half-used already, was chilled and waiting.
The dark burgundy colour of the liquid made one hell of a mess, especially on my white satin sheets, but it was one hundred percent worth ruining them now and then to enjoy the sweet tartness mixed with the heady taste of my woman.
“How do you want me?” she asked, laying perfectly spread out on her side. Her dark hair spilled over the arm resting under her head and onto the bedding.
I smirked. “On your back. Legs spread, pet.”
She did as she was told, no back talk, no questioning. She was done being toyed with, and I was ready to give her what she needed.