Home > The Master (The Game Maker #2)(72)

The Master (The Game Maker #2)(72)
Author: Kresley Cole

Despite how good his finger felt, my empty pussy yearned to be filled, so much that I almost told him to stop. To let me sit on his length and ease the ache. When he thrust his finger in my ass, I couldn’t help grinding my clit against his shaft.

“You can’t do that, Katya. If you use my cock to get off, it’ll be over. It was bad enough our first night.”

“I’ll be good. Somehow.” With our bodies pressed together, I could perceive all the latent power in his muscles, could feel the toll his restraint was taking. “Don’t stop. Give me more.”

He used his free hand to drizzle oil around his finger. Then I felt more pressure. He was wedging a second finger inside. “There you go. That’s it. . . .”

When both penetrated, I moaned low, arching my back.

“Ah, you like that.” With this cue from me, he delved deeper. “I’ll make tonight pleasurable for you.” He withdrew his fingers almost all the way, pouring more oil. Then he sank both inside. For what felt like hours, he pumped them. Twisted them. Spread them.

“More.” I felt the invasion all over my trembling body. How much longer could I take this? My pussy was dripping against his cock. “I’m dying, Máxim!”

He eased his fingers from me. “Then you’re ready.” He coated his shaft with oil, stroking it with a shaking hand. “I could spill right now. I promise you, this will hurt me, not you.”

He needed to come that badly?

“Rise up.” Holding his glistening rod upright, he maneuvered me until I was poised over it. He tucked the head between my cheeks, against my entrance. Then, with a groan, he lowered me, the tip nudging.

I whimpered as the broad crown demanded entry.

When the head popped past my ring, he lowered his chin to his chest, shuddering. “Fuck.”

“Ah! This is . . . don’t stop.” I felt him stretching me, but no pain.

He shook his head hard, his determined look surfacing. “Relax now.” He cupped my cheeks with both hands, holding me in place. “I’ve got you.”

I shifted my weight to his hands. He lifted me, sensuously lowering me farther. “You’re taking me so good, dushen’ka.” His praise was like its own caress.

I was bombarded by pressure, fullness, even by that sense of closeness he made me feel. Steam shrouded us, misting our skin and slicking our bodies.

“Am I hurting you?”

I didn’t know if I was light-headed from drinking or from these new sensations, but . . . “No, need more.”

Máximo shockeado. I leaned in to lick his parted lips.

He raised me up on his dick, then lowered me more. Up . . . down . . .

“Finger yourself for me.” His accent was so thick.

One of my hands dipped down to my pussy. As he lowered me again, I slid a finger inside. “Ay, Dios mío . . .” My head fell back.

He leaned down to my breasts, his mouth seeking. He took a taut nipple between his lips and suckled. Against the peak, he grated, “Two fingers, baby.” He turned to my other breast, tugging my nipple between his teeth.

When I wedged in a second finger, I could feel the pressure of his cock, pushing against my sheath. I was nearing the brink, but fought off my orgasm, wanting this to continue forever.

“You like being filled this way?” He went even deeper, making me accept more of the stretch.

And the stretch was increíble. “Más!”

“You’re torturing me! I will outlast you if it fucking kills me.”

“I’m getting so close!”

He raised his head. “Keep your fingers moving and look at me.” We met gazes. “I’ve claimed every inch of your body. You’re mine, Katya. You’re with me now.”

My lids slid shut as pleasure pooled deep in my belly.

“Eyes open. Look at me.” His words were a harsh rasp. “You’re with me now. Say it.”

“I-I’m with you.” The double fullness below my waist made it impossible to focus.

“There’s no one else but me for you. Do you understand me?” Lifted up . . .

“I-I think so.”

Lowered down . . . “You know what you are now. Say it.” Lifted up . . .

Lowered—as far as I could take him. “I’m yours! Yours!” For how long?

His jaw muscles bulged, the tendons in his neck straining more than I’d ever seen them. “That’s right. You belong to me. Keep working your pussy, Katya.”

“Oh, yes!”

As I finger-fucked myself, he glanced down and made that growling sound. “Just when I think you can’t possibly be sexier . . . You’re going to make me lose my mind before it’s all through, aren’t you?”

Up . . .

Down . . .

“About to explode, woman.” He gave shallow bucks of his hips in time with my busy hand.

“Máxim, I’m close!” With each thrust of my fingers, my pussy contracted more. “Make me come . . . make me . . . make me.”

“Fuck, FUCK!” Fingertips biting into my curves, he wrenched me up to the tip of his cock.

Heartbeats passed as I hovered, as he hovered . . .

I descended, seated; his seed erupted. Grinding up into me, his head fell back and a bellow burst from his chest.

When I felt his first shot of heat, I whimpered, almost fearing the strength of my own orgasm as the pleasure quickened and quickened and blazed—

Rapture.

Scalding me.

My core clenched my fingers. I threw back my head and screamed, “Oh, my God!” I shuddered and quaked, ecstasy ruling me.

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