her.
Usually he enjoyed prolonging, when it came to pleasure. Making his partners wait
in building anticipation; the barrage of hormones he made them feel obliterated anyone,
anything before him … until there was only him.
But the torture now was on him.
Her breasts … his mouth ached to suckle them again.
Her pussy lips were the prettiest he’d ever seen.
Shaking, barely able to move, he rolled on the bed, remembering how she’d begged his
name after he’d played with her with the ice. An ice for his Ice Maiden.…
Jesus, had she melted that little sucker to the ground.
He remembered crawling down her, how he’d immediately heard her breathing intensify
as he parted her thighs to lick her orgasm. He’d heard her gasp in anticipation. Her
pupils had dilated, her breasts were heaving, and he had all but stopped breathing
for he had never, ever, been so fiercely turned on.
“Daniel…,” she’d whimpered.
His balls had contracted with a need so violent, he’d almost choked. “Shh…,” he thinks
he had said, but he couldn’t remember, only knew they’d just come and needed to come
again, and he’d shoved his shoulders between her thighs and went straight to eat her
up. He’d flicked out his tongue, quickly tasting the outside of her slit—soaked, creamy—he
dipped inside her with a languid stroke, and her sweet little cunt burned around his
tongue, tight as hell and so damned slippery, his cock twitched to fill her up again.
He growled as her taste invaded him, mixing with his own, but it didn’t matter … it
just didn’t … what mattered was that her hips had been tilting desperately toward
his, and she was so worked up it took only three flicks; the third time he pushed
his tongue into her channel she’d exploded.
She came so hard her thighs closed around his face and he pushed them open again by
shoving his shoulders higher and speared her through her orgasm, doubling the pleasure,
glorying in her cries of ecstasy.
When he added fingers into her sheath, a bubbling sound erupted from her chest, and
she tossed her head, her eyes glazed with lust, her nipples poking into the air—and
she came again.
His balls strained in memory, gathered high and heavy against his cock. He felt so
full he was leaking semen from the tip, throbbing painfully for her, liquid lava rushing
through his veins.
She had still been shuddering as he surged upward and grabbed her, so full he’d almost
exploded just licking her. “I’ve still got more for you, Monica…”
She’d been extremely aroused when he took her from behind. She’d cried with passion—with
need. Blazing hot and incredibly wet for him. He’d never imagined Monica would lose
herself like this to him.
Pulsing pain radiated through his dick, his scrotum growing so much heavier he feared
he would drown her with his semen the next time he fucked her.
His mouth ached to taste her breasts with his mouth, suddenly deciding he hadn’t given
them as much attention as he’d have liked.
His back ached from places she’d scratched him and he loved it so much, he wanted
to have more of those scratches all over.
He’d desperately wanted to spend the night with her so he could only refill his load,
wake up, and fill her up with him again. But neither of them were people who slept
over. Daniel had never allowed a woman to sleep over before, and he’d never stayed
to make chitchat with them in their homes. But he’d wanted to stay with Monica. He’d
held her before when she slept, all those years ago. He bet he was still the only
man in the world who’d ever done that. The thought tangled in his chest until he knotted
with a need that seemed violent.
He considered for the tenth time helping himself to some relief, but his hand was
big and manly, not delicate and soft like hers. He could get off with her scent alone,
with hearing another of the delicate sounds that stole
Usually he enjoyed prolonging, when it came to pleasure. Making his partners wait
in building anticipation; the barrage of hormones he made them feel obliterated anyone,
anything before him … until there was only him.
But the torture now was on him.
Her breasts … his mouth ached to suckle them again.
Her pussy lips were the prettiest he’d ever seen.
Shaking, barely able to move, he rolled on the bed, remembering how she’d begged his
name after he’d played with her with the ice. An ice for his Ice Maiden.…
Jesus, had she melted that little sucker to the ground.
He remembered crawling down her, how he’d immediately heard her breathing intensify
as he parted her thighs to lick her orgasm. He’d heard her gasp in anticipation. Her
pupils had dilated, her breasts were heaving, and he had all but stopped breathing
for he had never, ever, been so fiercely turned on.
“Daniel…,” she’d whimpered.
His balls had contracted with a need so violent, he’d almost choked. “Shh…,” he thinks
he had said, but he couldn’t remember, only knew they’d just come and needed to come
again, and he’d shoved his shoulders between her thighs and went straight to eat her
up. He’d flicked out his tongue, quickly tasting the outside of her slit—soaked, creamy—he
dipped inside her with a languid stroke, and her sweet little cunt burned around his
tongue, tight as hell and so damned slippery, his cock twitched to fill her up again.
He growled as her taste invaded him, mixing with his own, but it didn’t matter … it
just didn’t … what mattered was that her hips had been tilting desperately toward
his, and she was so worked up it took only three flicks; the third time he pushed
his tongue into her channel she’d exploded.
She came so hard her thighs closed around his face and he pushed them open again by
shoving his shoulders higher and speared her through her orgasm, doubling the pleasure,
glorying in her cries of ecstasy.
When he added fingers into her sheath, a bubbling sound erupted from her chest, and
she tossed her head, her eyes glazed with lust, her nipples poking into the air—and
she came again.
His balls strained in memory, gathered high and heavy against his cock. He felt so
full he was leaking semen from the tip, throbbing painfully for her, liquid lava rushing
through his veins.
She had still been shuddering as he surged upward and grabbed her, so full he’d almost
exploded just licking her. “I’ve still got more for you, Monica…”
She’d been extremely aroused when he took her from behind. She’d cried with passion—with
need. Blazing hot and incredibly wet for him. He’d never imagined Monica would lose
herself like this to him.
Pulsing pain radiated through his dick, his scrotum growing so much heavier he feared
he would drown her with his semen the next time he fucked her.
His mouth ached to taste her breasts with his mouth, suddenly deciding he hadn’t given
them as much attention as he’d have liked.
His back ached from places she’d scratched him and he loved it so much, he wanted
to have more of those scratches all over.
He’d desperately wanted to spend the night with her so he could only refill his load,
wake up, and fill her up with him again. But neither of them were people who slept
over. Daniel had never allowed a woman to sleep over before, and he’d never stayed
to make chitchat with them in their homes. But he’d wanted to stay with Monica. He’d
held her before when she slept, all those years ago. He bet he was still the only
man in the world who’d ever done that. The thought tangled in his chest until he knotted
with a need that seemed violent.
He considered for the tenth time helping himself to some relief, but his hand was
big and manly, not delicate and soft like hers. He could get off with her scent alone,
with hearing another of the delicate sounds that stole
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