Page 98 of Twisted Little Game

His fucking size.

The rain patters down against the car.

Roman drops my hips after I come, and I’m still catching my breath, feeling like I’m floating on air, as he reaches into his rumpled pants for two of the lube packets and a condom that says XXXL on the foil. He rips them open and coats his cock as I watch as the slickness gleams in the reflected lamplight from outside.

I expect him to flip me over, but he never does.

He loops one arm under my lower back again, angling my body so that he has access to my ass, and he takes two slick fingers, pushing inside of me without warning.

“Holy fuck,” I utter.

It’s tight.

With other guys, it was always so methodical. They’d kiss me once or twice, jerk me off for a minute, then start trying to work me open.

Nobody’s ever made me come before they stuck their fingers in me, and now the idea of that sounds pathetic.

I’m angry at myself for never knowing how insanely good it feels.

“My cock is going to hurt you,” Roman says simply, nodding at me from above. “Are you ready for that?”

“Give it to me and find out.”

He clicks his tongue. “I don’t want to actually break you. I need to keep you in one piece so I can fuck you again. And again. Any time you need it.”

I exhale as he adds a third finger.

“Fuck, that’s a lot,” I whisper.

“Only three fingers.”

“When the hand is your hand, three fingers is a whole lot more than with anyone else.”

He reaches up with his free hand and casually gives one of the black ropes a little tug, and I feel the pleasant pressure on my wrist. I don’t know what type of rope it is, but it’s soft enough not to burn, but rough enough that I never forget it’s there.

He begins a steady rhythm with his fingers, working me open until I swear I feel a twitch in my cock even though I just spent my load a few minutes ago.

The stroke of his fingers in my ass is already so good, soothing, almost, in the hypnotizing way he’s doing it.

And then he revokes all of it in one quick moment.

I moan at the loss, and I feel so empty that I’m no longer afraid of his size.

“Give me your cock,” I murmur.

“We need to work on your patience.”

“Fuck that. I don’t want patience.”

“We have all the time in the world, beauty.”

My heart aches because I love hearing him call me that so goddamn much, and now I’m starting to chub up again, watching him stroke his slicked cock.

But I also know it’s not true.

We may not have that much time.

“Fuck,” I shout way too loud as he lines up his tip with my hole and pushes the first bit of it in.