Page 36 of Pawn

I don’t answer. Instead, I unhook her bra, letting it fall away, baring her to me completely. Her breasts are perfect—full, heavy in my hands, her nipples dark and begging for my mouth. I oblige, taking one into my mouth, teasing the tip with my tongue before biting down just enough to make her gasp.

She’s a mess beneath me, her body flushed, her skin slick with sweat. I can see the way her pulse jumps in her throat, the way her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath. She’s mine, in this moment. Completely, utterly mine.

I drop to my knees again, but this time, I don’t stop at her thighs. My mouth finds her pussy again, my tongue delving deep, lapping at her entrance before circling her clit. She cries out, her fingers gripping the edge of the table, her body trembling.

I don’t let up. I lick and suck and fuck her with my tongue until her thighs are shaking, until her moans are loud and desperate, until she’s right there, teetering on the edge. And then—I pull back.

She lets out a frustrated noise, her body writhing. “You bastard.”

I grin up at her, my chin wet with her arousal. “You want to come?”

“Yes!”

I dive back in, my tongue working her clit in tight, relentless circles while my fingers pump in and out of her. She’s so wet, so fucking wet, her juices dripping down my chin, her body clenching around my fingers like she’s trying to keep me inside her forever.

And then she’s coming, her back arching off the table, a scream tearing from her throat as her body convulses around me. I don’t stop. I keep licking, keep fingering her, drawing out her orgasm until she’s a trembling, boneless mess, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

I stand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, my cock aching with the need to be inside her. She watches me, her eyes heavy-lidded, her lips swollen from biting them.

“You’re not done with me yet, are you?” she murmurs, her voice husky.

I shake my head, my hands going to my belt. “Not even close.”

My pants hit the floor, my cock springing free, hard and thick and desperate for her. She licks her lips, her eyes locked on me, and for a second, I think she might reach out, might take me in her hand. But she doesn’t. She just watches, her breath hitching as I stroke myself, my thumb swiping over the slick head.

I step closer, my body pressing against hers, my cock nudging against her thigh. She’s still dripping, her arousal coating her skin, glistening in the dim light. I can’t resist. I reach down, gathering some of her wetness on my fingers, then bring it to my mouth, tasting her again. Her flavor explodes on my tongue—sweet, salty, addictive.

“Fuck,” she breathes, her eyes darkening as she watches me.

I don’t answer. Instead, I lift her off the table, turn her around, and press her down onto the surface. Her ass is perfect—round, firm, begging for my touch. I run my hands over her curves, squeezing and kneading before landing a sharp smack on one cheek. She yelps, but then she’s pushing back against me, her body arching, asking for more.

I oblige, my palm coming down on the other cheek, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the apartment. She moans, her fingers gripping the edge of the table, her ass pressing back against me, seeking my cock.

I tease her, the head of my dick pressing against her entrance, but not pushing in. Not yet. She whines, her body trembling.

“Do you want this?” I growl, my voice rough with need.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

I don’t make her wait. With one powerful thrust, I’m inside her, filling her completely. She cries out, her body stretching to accommodate me, her walls clenching around my cock like she’s trying to pull me in deeper.

“Fuck—fuck, you feel amazing,” I groan, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her back against me as I start to move. Each thrust is deep, hard, my balls slapping against her clit with every movement. She’s moaning, her body trembling, her fingers digging into the wood of the table.

I lean over her, my chest pressing against her back, my lips finding the shell of her ear. “You’re mine,” I murmur.

She doesn’t hesitate. “Yours.”

The word sends a jolt through me, my cock twitching inside her. I pull back, my hands gripping her ass cheeks, spreading her open as I slam back into her. She screams, her body arching, her walls fluttering around me.

I can feel it—the way her body tenses, the way her pussy squeezes my cock, then releases, the way her breath catches. She’s close again. So close.

“Not yet,” I whisper, pulling out of her completely. She whines at the loss.

I spin her around, lifting her onto the table, her back against the surface, her legs wrapping around my waist. I don’t waste time. I’m inside her again in one smooth motion, her walls clenching around me, her nails digging into my shoulders.

“Fuck—fuck—” She’s babbling now, her body writhing beneath me, her hips rising to meet each thrust. I can feel her clit grinding against my pelvis, the friction driving her wild.

My hand slides between us, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. That’s all it takes. She comes with a scream, her body convulsing around me, her walls milking my cock as her orgasm tears through her. I don’t stop. I keep thrusting, keep rubbing, drawing out her pleasure until she’s a trembling, sobbing mess beneath me, her body oversensitive, her skin slick with sweat.