Page 22 of Dirty Player
“More,” I mewled again and let out a satisfied sigh when he pressed another finger inside of me. His hand at my breasts squeezed tight, finger and thumb playing with my nipple.
I rocked against him as he began fucking me, holding me in place with his touch on my breast. Every move forward rocked me into his hand, his thumb brushing my clit. Every pull back shot fire from my nipple.
His fingers slid out of me, causing me to cry out. He dropped his shorts before settling himself against me.
“Not fucking you here,” he said, when he saw my eyes go wide. “But fuck if I can’t wait to feel you against my skin.”
I nodded once. I didn’t want to be fucked here. His fingers returned to my cunt, sliding and pushing, and then I was overwhelmed with sensation. His cock sliding through my crease, gathering wetness, his fingers rolling and pressing, his fingers squeezing my nipple.
My whimpers became moans. All of it was overwhelming. He was everywhere, leaning over me, his chest brushing against my back, the press of his hips against my ass telling me he was just as close as I was.
“Oliver,” I gasped, my body beginning to shake.
“Come for me, Shannon. And fucking look at me.”
My eyes flew to his in the mirror and then rolled back before I could focus on him, the gritted words he spoke, and the harsh lines around his jaw.
I shattered when I saw him—when I noticed the pain it was taking him to stay in control.
The way his body, his muscles, his fingers and hands, and his thick cock pressed against me.
Chanted pleasure fell from my lips as my spasms began rolling through me. I quaked and shook and fell apart before his hand left my breast and went to his cock.
I lost the ability to stay on my hands and dropped to my elbows so I could watch him, looking over my shoulder.
He tugged and pulled on his erection, bigger and thicker than I had imagined, and I suddenly did want what he was going to do.
“Wait.” I gasped, his fingers already beginning to slow inside of me.
I pushed him back with my hips, spun, and dropped to my knees.
I couldn’t help it. I wanted him in me, wanted the feel of him losing control inside of me ingrained in my mind, keeping me warm when he was just a memory.
My fingers wrapped around his cock and he swore. “Fucking shit, Shannon.”
I didn’t tease him. His balls were pulled tight, his thickness hardened steel covered in silk.
I wrapped my lips around him and sucked him deep. Quickly, without pausing, I began taking care of him.
His hands dug into my hair again, holding me in place but letting me do the work.
He was heaven. Delicious and large in my mouth, I used my hand to help. His balls swung, hitting me in the chin with every thrust forward. I popped off his dick and stuck my tongue out, sucking them into my mouth.
“Holy fucking shit, get your mouth back on me.”
I complied after tugging on his balls one more time, feeling them rise and tighten, the flesh warm and rigid.
My mouth went back to his tip and I swirled my tongue around him, playing with him and sucking him deep. His thrusts increased in speed until his fingers dove into my hair, tugging painfully.
“Coming in your mouth,” he warned, his teeth pressed sharply together.
I nodded as best as I could, not that he’d seemed to ask my permission.
And then he pushed forward, gagging me at the back of my throat before he cursed and pulled back.
“Fuck. Sorry. So good. Holy shit,” he chanted as the first spurts hit my tongue, holding me steady, his hips shaking from the stress of not plummeting into me again.
I sucked him off, swallowing until he was done and his hands went slack on my head. I gave him a final lick, bathing his cock with my tongue and the taste of us mixed together.
