Page 60 of Bronson

He chuckles. “Eager?”

I nod.

There’s no warm-up. We’ve already done that. Instead, his two huge fingers plunge into my pussy. I cry out. His fingers freeze, staying in place. My hips want to rise, to beg for more.

He says, “Do as you please.” Then begins fucking me, hard, with his two fingers.

I’m like a crazed woman. My hips are bucking. I’m humping my clit against his leg, his fingers fucking me even harder as I scream out. My core is tied up tight, like a spring. It aches and burns as he pounds into me. A carnal craving takes me over.

I have to come. I’ll do anything for release. Even if I look like an animal, bucking and fucking his hand. I take what I want, crying out. His cock is pressing harder against my stomach as I go. My core further constricts and when I feel as if I will burst, the sweet explosion comes, racking my body with shudders. I pant as the waves overcome me. With each one, the tension melts away. His hand slips from my pussy and I lie there, trembling, shaking.

He’s not finished with me yet.

My buttocks clench as I feel his fingers wander to the cleft of my ass. I bring my leg back up over his lap, meeting my other leg and close them together tightly. He ignores my physical protest. Pushing past my closed buttocks, his finger invades my quivering globes. My eyes shoot open wide as his slick finger presses against my backdoor.

His voice rumbles. “There’s more than one way a Bachman man demands submission from his woman.” I have a feeling Bachman men are the type to not be satisfied until they’ve had the pleasure of enjoying every inch of their woman. The thought makes me blush hot.

“Naughty bottoms have to be punished.” His finger presses in further, maybe up to his second knuckle. He slides it out, then pumps it back in. Further this time.

I gasp.

The pressure turns to pleasure. My greedy little pussy comes back to life. She throbs, begging for more attention. His finger… its invasion… it’s so wrong, but it feels so… right. I lie there over his thighs, helpless, powerless as he does what he wants to me. His finger leaves my bottom. I give a sigh of relief mixed with disappointment as the sensation ends.

He gives my ass a little pat. “I’ll have that ass with my cock. But we’ll save that for another day.”

My ass clenches. Anal sex has always been on my strict ‘no-no’ list. Not that it’s ever been offered to me before.

Any other man… if he was any other man, I would immediately start a lengthy conversation with him about my comfort levels and what I would and wouldn’t allow done to my body.

But he’s like no man I’ve ever met. I bite my lip.

He flips me over onto my back, leans over me, and presses his mouth on mine.

My inhibitions melt away as we kiss. Our tongues dance against one another. His hands go to my breasts, cupping and caressing. He pinches my nipples between his expert fingers. My pussy tightens. He does it again and my back arches, pressing my crotch against his. My need to have his cock deep inside of me grows. My hips grind against him. Breathlessly, I plead, “Please.”

“Finally, some manners,” he teases. His grin is wicked as he sits up, ripping his shirt from his body. Buttons be damned.

His bare chest is finally exposed to me for the first time. It looks much as I had imagined it would. Deep grooves run between his defined muscles. His skin is tan like mine, a warm brown. A fine dusting of hair runs over his chest and down his navel.

My gaze goes to the left side of his ribcage. A long, jagged scar runs from the bottom of his top rib, almost to his hipbone. I reach my hand out. My fingertip makes contact with the scar. He winces. Not from pain, but from the memory. I run my finger down the full length of the scar. I look up at his face. His features are soft.

“What happened⁠—”

His eyes cloud over. “A story for another day.”

He leans back down, returning his mouth to me. His bare skin lies against mine. Warm tingles cover my chest, my nipples press into him.

As we kiss, his hand finds my wrists. He circles them tightly with his fingers. Lifting my arms, he holds my hands above my head. With one strong hand, he’s able to bind both my arms. I give a little tug, testing his strength.

I will never be able to break that hold.

He continues to kiss me. My limbs melt into the bed. His free hand wanders. He cups my breast. He squeezes it hard. Just to show me he can. His mouth leaves mine, kissing down my neck. The tip of his tongue flicks at my nipple. His teeth bite my skin.

His grip tightens on my wrists. I moan, my head lolling back and to the side. He sucks on my nipple. He bites my tender flesh gently between his teeth.

Still holding my wrists tightly, with his free hand he undoes his pants, pushing them down and off. I can feel him kicking his legs free of the fabric. He is as naked as I am. The feel of his bare thigh against mine makes my mind feel light, floaty.

I belong to him.