Page 32 of Remnants
“And what did I promise you about my pussy?” He palms my ass, rubbing it with clear intent. My thighs quiver and clench in response.
“You’d punish me if I touched it.”
“Did you?”
Smirking, I answer, “No.”
The first slap is loud and raw, weaving with my audible cry and echoing through the room before becoming lost in the steam. He buffs the pain away with his hand, spreading the remaining pleasure and warmth beneath my skin. “I also told you I didn’t think I had it in me to share.”
“That’s a you-problem,” I retort. “The others are fine with it.”
Another smack. Rub.
His lips graze the shell of my ear. “And are the others fine when you end up choosing one in the end?” he croons.
“I’m not. I won’t.”
“How can I know that’s true? How can you know you won’t get tired of one or more of us? When having four of us to satisfy becomes too much?”
“I want all of you, Aiden. It won’t be too much. I swear, if you give in to it, it’ll be the best thing.”
“What about now?” he challenges.
“What about it?”
His fingers push into me, and I groan, leaning heavily into the wall to support myself. “Is your cunt raw and sore from just having sex with Dane?”
I sink more onto his fingers, encouraging them deeper. “No. Fuck me, Aiden. That’s what you want at the end of all this, isn’t it? Then take me. I’m yours. Just remember that I’m theirs, too.”
His fingers are gone, replaced by his cock as it notches at my entrance before he drives inside in a single stroke. My legs tremble and quake, but I force them to keep myself upright. Aiden grips my hips hard enough to bruise like he’s trying to imprint his fingerprints on my skin to claim me as his. I throw my head back, eyes closed, and a long moan slides past my lips as that’s exactly what he does. Claim me.
Aiden fucks me with abandon, finally losing his self-control and allowing himself to take what he’d been holding himself back on. I’m barely holding on, my hands slipping and straining to keep myself forward while I’m driven up on my tiptoes for him to reach me better.
His pace slows suddenly, and the sharp click followed by buzzing tells me what’s coming. “Do you want this or my fingers?”
He holds the vibrator close, his fingers spreading me wide on either side so I can nearly feel it touching my clit, but not quite. It’smaddening.
“That,” I pant heavily.
“Say it,” he croons, and my heart flutters.
“I want the vibrator.”
His fingers twitch, and I get the tiniest taste of it before it disappears, and I inhale sharply.
“You want it…what?”
Fuck. What word is he looking for? My mind scrambles withthe English vocabulary, tripping over anything and everything until something seems right. “Please. I want the vibrator,please,” I beg, my hips jerking forward, but all that does is pull me further off his dick as he easily moves the vibrator out of reach.
“Good girl,” he breathes, his length thrusting into me once more while simultaneously the vibrator is pressed at my bundle of nerves.
“Oh, fuck!” I curse and moan, grinding against it and him.
“You’re going to come for me until I’m satisfied, aren’t you? As many times as I tell you to.”
This man really wants to kill me. By orgasm.
But I did tell him that would be my favorite way to die, and I’m no quitter.
