Page 230 of Just for the Plot

“Are you sure?”

“Beautiful.” He takes my hand, placing it on his dick. “I’m hard as a fucking stone right now because my hot-as-shit girl is welcoming me home in the best way possible. I don’t give a fuck about my back.”

I chuckle as his mouth goes back to my neck and he plays with my breasts on the outside of my shirt.

While he makes me feel insane with his mouth, I push down his joggers, along with his boxer briefs, and he steps out of them before coming back to me.

“Fuck, baby,” he says as he squeezes my breast and kisses my cleavage.

I reach between us and start pumping him, causing him to groan, the rumble of his pleasure turning me on even more.

“I want these tits.” He squeezes them together, and then to my surprise, grabs each side of the V in the neckline and rips it open, tearing the shirt in the front so my breasts spring free and the shirt falls to the side. “Better,” he says and then pulls my right nipple into his mouth.

Sucking.

Licking.

Nibbling.

“Fuck,” I moan as my hand drops from his cock and glides up his back to his head, where I attempt to hold him in place, wanting so much more.

He moves to my other breast, continuing the same beautiful torture, making me so wet, so ready, that by the time he pulls away, I’m panting, needing any kind of pressure or friction.

I look him in the eyes, holding his head still, and say, “Fuck me, Bennett.”

His eyes go wild as he lifts and then turns me over in a blink of an eye. My ass is thrust into the air, but he keeps my head firmly planted in the mattress.

The feel of his palm dragging over my back, where his name and number are, down my spine and all the way to my ass, where he spanks me with a flick of his hand.

“Oh fuck,” I groan as he does it again and then presses the head of his cock over my clit, rubbing it up and down. “Yes, more.”

He spanks me again and starts flicking the head of his cock over my clit, up and down, up and down, while spanking me at the same time, creating a sensory overload. My brain’s unable to comprehend pain and pleasure, but I’m still enjoying it all.

He slips the head of his cock inside me for a second and then pulls it out before planting his hand on my ass.

“Oh my God,” I cry. I can feel my pussy contract, looking for any sort of pressure from him. “Fuck me, Bennett. Fuck me.”

“Jesus, beautiful,” he says as he lines his cock up with my entrance again. “Feel this. Take my cock.” He slams himself all the way into me, to the fucking hilt, stealing my breath from my lungs. “You make me so goddamn hard. Fuck.” He groans and then digs his fingers into my ass as he starts thrusting—hard and fast, relentless.

Not giving me a moment to adjust.

Not taking his time.

No, I asked to be fucked and he’s delivering.

I have to grip the comforter for balance as he slams into me, one thrust after the other, jostling my body and shaking my bones.

“Yes, yes, oh God, yes, Bennett. Fuck me. Fuck me harder.”

He growls under his breath and holds one hand to my ass and the other on my shoulder, pinning me as he continues the onslaught of his thrusts, over and over and over again until I’m close.

“Right there, oh my God, right there. Don’t stop.”

But…he does.

He stops and then pulls all the way out.

“Bennett,” I complain just as he flips me back over and I’m met with a very hungry, aroused man, chest rippling, eyes on me, ready to fuck me into the wall.