I part my lips obediently and he shoves it in, gagging me. He backs off, leaving the rubber filling my mouth, drool spilling onto the bench.
“Suck like it’s mine.”
I obey, cheek still pressed down, eyes closed, extending my chin back and forth just a little, sensually sucking as if he were truly in my mouth.
Andfinally, his cock meets my entrance.
He drives in slow, so slow it burns, every inch of him dragging along my hot, dripping opening.
The plug in my bottom amplifies every motion, the dildo pacifies my cries, and his cock claims my pussy like he’s branding my soul.
And I love it. I love every humiliating, filthy second.
I rock back into him, taking more, slobbering against the rubber, drunk on Grayson. Drunk on beinghis.
He slips his hand under my hips, pressing a vibrator against my clit.
I’m already trembling and wrecked, and the shock of it makes me convulse.
“That’s it, baby,” he rasps. “Cum for me. Strangle my cock.”
I shudder violently, literally sobbing as I break apart, my body clenching around him.
He doesn’t stop.
He grinds the vibrator firmer, fucks me harder, drives me higher until my whole body spasms again, over and over, every nerve overstimulated.
“No! Grayson!” I gasp, spitting the dildo from my mouth, writhing beneath him.
But he loves it.
He fucks me even faster, spanking me, his breath ragged, his body slick with sweat, using me like he owns me.
And God, I want him to.
I claw at his thighs, try to ruin him the way he’s ruining me, moaning uncontrollably, calling his name.
Through heavy breaths, I cry, “I want to be the only girl you fuck.”
He growls low.
“Oh, yeah, baby?” His voice is mocking but shaky.
“Mmmm-hm,” I moan, grinding against him, desperate for more.
His thrusts turn savage, even more violent, and then, suddenly slow.
He collapses over my back, his sweaty cheek pressing against mine, his cock still buried deep. It pulses at my opening.
“Charlotte,” he whispers, voice cracked and ragged. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” I pant.
“Again.”
“I’m yours, Grayson,” I breathe, matching the rhythm of his final, slow thrusts.
I add, “My heart, my body. My freaking soul. All yours.”
