Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“And if you do come without my permission,” he went on, grinding painfully into me with increasing pressure. “You’ll be punished.”
His tone implied that I didn’t want to ask what it would be.
I caught our reflection in the mirror on the open closet door. Fascinated, I watched as Matt gave my ass a sharp smack and pulled my cheek aside to admire the view of his cock spearing into me. His eyes met mine in the mirror.
“Ready, princess? You stay still. Only those fingers move.”
I knew why he had to specify not to move. As he slid out with torturous slowness, all I wanted was to push back on him. The urge became worse when he entered me again. The stimulation of my own fingers added to the frustration; my body felt too much and not enough with every breath.
“That’s one,” he said, sounding a little hoarse. Maybe he was fighting his instincts, too, holding back when all he wanted was to let go and drive into me.
Since I knew that rough, hard fucking was going to happen, it was all I could think of. As a result, it was the only thing that could possibly get me off. I picked up the pace with my fingers, but my nerve endings refused to respond. My libido demanded speed and violence.
“Two,” he warned.
That’s two, I reassured myself. You still have time. You’ve come fast before. But why couldn’t I come fast now?
That was his trick. He’d primed me to want more. He’d used my curiosity and impatience against me. He knew this would be the outcome.
He knew I would be punished.
“Three.”
I resolved to beat him at his own game. I sped my fingers up and closed my eyes, trying to think of anything other than the time limit and my dwindling chances. I wouldn’t let him win.
By the time he reached four, I was confident that I would make it. My toes curled against the carpet in anticipation. I used my tried-and-true masturbation technique, my middle finger flicking furiously. It would be close. Down to the wire. But as he started his forward slide on the fifth stroke, I knew I would make it. I was going to come. It was so close.
So was he, nearly seated deep by the time I neared the point of no return. I began to panic; I was too close to lose now. I wouldn’t be able to stop my orgasm, even if it hadn’t happened.
“Five.”
“No!” I shouted as he wrenched my hand away from my clit. He pinned both my arms in one strong hand and used the other to grip my throat, jerking me almost straight up to prevent me from bashing my face into the sofa, while I remained trapped between it and his body.
“Don’t you dare come,” he growled. Then, without any further warning, he pounded into me without mercy.
He held me so firmly, I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to upset his balance. He’d promised me hard, and fast, and rough, and that’s what he gave me. Bright white bursts of pain exploded behind my eyelids, and each hammering thrust sawed against my G-spot. I’d already been so close.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to come,” I pleaded with him.
“If you come, you’ll be punished,” he replied, and he didn’t stop. He picked up the pace, and our bodies scooted the couch forward. “Don’t do it,” he warned me. “Don’t do it, princess.”
“I can’t help it,” I sobbed, and the hand around my throat tightened at my jaw.
“You can resist. You can hold back,” he promised me. “You don’t want to find out what will happen to you if you don’t.”
But I’d been too close, too ready. And while nothing was touching my clit externally, the branches that hugged my vagina picked up every sensation. I clenched, I squirmed. and finally, I screamed, requiring Matt to cover my mouth while I trembled in the grip of my inevitable climax. He caught my uncontrollable, loud shriek in his palm and kept slamming into me while the long buildup broke and the relentless hammering on my G-spot forced a torrent of wetness from my body, spraying down my legs and the back of the sofa to splatter on the carpet.
My body was satisfied. My brain was terrified. Would he spank me? Paddle me? I didn’t know if he’d brought toys with us that could adequately punish me. Would it be more orgasm denial? Some kind of humiliation?
I wanted him to do those things to me. I wanted him to make me ashamed of what a bad girl I’d been to disobey him. To disappoint him.
He jerked himself free from me, leaving me dazed and slumped over the now-ruined couch.
Oh god. He took me home to meet his family, and I hosed down the furniture with pussy juice.