Torture Me (With All I’ve Wanted)

“Fuck me… hard and deep,” I murmur.

He answers me in his mother tongue and I shudder at the implication of the words, at the music he makes with his mouth, even when he’s talking dirty.

I spread my legs wide and he slides his cock deep inside of me once, all the way, until our hips nearly meet. All the way out, and all the way back in, again, again.

“Is that what you needed, baby?”
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If We’re Talking Body, You’ve Got a Perfect One, So Put it on Me

The long fingers of one hand wrap around my throat, his other arm snakes around my waist and he hoists me up and pins my back against the long line of his body. He growls in my ear; wordless, a raw, animal sound. My fingers automatically close around his wrists and stroke at his skin. His body is vibrating behind mine; he is heat lightning and raw thunder and energy. I feel small and vulnerable in his hands. His teeth close around my earlobe and he drags the flesh into his mouth. His thumb at my windpipe slows my breathing down until all I can take are deep, slow breaths, fighting for the little air he does allow me. His hand at my waist forces its way in between my skin and my clothing, sneaking past my skirt and rubbing against the outside of my panties, stroking me between my thighs.  I can’t help but rock my hips, but let my fingers snake around his wrists. There is heat inside of him, an urgency born of jealousy and a fire that’s been simmering all day. Continue reading