Page 131 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
“You’re such a good fucking girl for me … trembling like that. Now show me how good it feels to obey,” he said.
“So fucking amazing,” I groaned. “I’m so close.” My vision had taken on a slightly hazy glow.
“Go higher. Don’t come yet,” he snapped and brought my focus back to him.
I changed the speed level without removing the tip from my sensitive clit. “Fuuuuck,” I whined, my body shaking harder.
“One more,” he coaxed, softer this time.
Sweat beaded my brow. I turned it up to the last and highest setting. Five.
I didn’t think I could hold off much longer.
My hips bucked up. My pussy clenched.
“Do you want to come?” he asked.
I mumbled out, “yes,” through clenched teeth, my body tightening, ready for release.
“Such a good girl. Now let me hear you moan,” he quietly demanded.
I was shaking, and he was standing at the foot of the bed watching me like I was the best thing he had ever seen, and that—that—was what tipped me over the edge. I came apart loudly and unguarded, forgetting where I was, which was notsomething I typically did, and discovered that it didn’t bother me in the slightest.
“Marc,” I pleaded, my voice wrecked. “I need?—”
“I know what you need.” He moved to the edge of the bed and sat beside me. One hand brushed hair from my face. “I want to see you dripping first.”
I whined.
“You’re so wet and perfect. You can do this. Slide it inside you. Keep the vibration on.”
I stared at him.
“You’re not done yet,” he said, as heat flashed in his eyes.
My body, which had just finished what had completely scrambled my brain, was apparently on board with this assessment. I did as he asked, my breath catching at the stretch, at the still-rippling sensitivity, at the way he watched my face the entire time like he was tracking every response and filing it away.
“Turn on the thrusting. Level three.”
My fingers fumbled as I found the button. The toy shifted inside me with its first upward motion, and I jolted so hard I nearly dropped it.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous like this,” he leaned close, his mouth at my ear. “I’ve been thinking about you sprawled out on my bed all day. I want my hands and my mouth on every part of you. To slide my cock inside of you and feel every inch of your cunt and how wet you’ll be.”
My eyes rolled back.I was going to die. This was how it would happen.
“With your other hand,” he said, pulling back just far enough to watch my face, “tap your clit.”
“I’m already too sensitive?—”
His dark honeyed voice washed over me. “Do it anyway.”
I was shaking before my fingers made contact. The combination—the toy pumping slow and deep, hitting exactly the right angle, and my own fingers working my clit with hard taps—was dangerous in its precision. Like he’d designed this. Like he’d thought long and hard about exactly what would wreck me and had simply implemented the plan.
“Good girl, Hart. That was just what I wanted.”
“Fuck it. It’s official. I’m a slut for praise,” I groaned as my body tensed. “Marc,” I whispered frantically.
I couldn’t hold off much longer.
