He thrust once, twice, three times with so much force I slammed hard into the door, and then he dropped me to the ground, stepping back.
Before I could even look up at him—figure out why he’d stopped—he was pushing me to the ground. The tile was cold and unforgiving on my knees, but the pain hardly registered. He fisted a handful of my hair, then thrust his dick into my mouth.
A growl of pleasure came from above me as he held my head firm, forcing his enormous dick down my throat. I gagged, pushing against his hips, but he held me firm for a second longer before backing up and thrusting into me again.
His dick was slick from our fucking, and I could taste myself on him as he slid over my lips, in and out, deeper and deeper. He held my head firmly with both hands, leaving me no relief.
I looked up at him from where I kneeled, his cock sliding down my throat, and realized he was watching me.
His eyes were dark with lust, his lips parted slightly as he grunted. As he watched his dick slide in and out of my mouth.
“You look good on your knees,” he said, yanking my mouth further down on him as a long, low growl tore from his throat.
I was short of breath and left at his mercy, nearly gagging each time his dick slid down my throat, but then he pulled back.
I gasped for breath, nearly dizzy from what I’d just done.
And wanting to do it more. Wanting to meet his eyes as he stared down at me, as he dominated me in a way I’d never been.
And then he was grabbing me again, picking me up and turning me to face the stairs. Thinking he meant to take me to his room, I started up the first step.
But then he was pushing me down, so that I’d be my knees on the second step, so that my elbows pressed into the fourth one.
He pushed me down further, until my face rested on the small landing where the stairs turned and continued upward. So that I was kneeling before him, my ass up in the air, my tits dangling toward the edge of a step
And then he plunged into me again, rough and hard, with no warning. I moaned and gripped the stairs, my cheek pressed into the carpet as he held my face down. With his other hand, he grabbed my arm, twisting it around my back. Pinning me like this as he thrust into me.
He groaned louder, his throaty moans matching my own. We were both panting now, our breath ragged and desperate.
Heat and raw friction built. I reached down, my fingers finding my clit as he rammed into me. Harder and harder.
“I’m going to fuck you until you’re sore,” he said, slamming into me. “Until you think of me every time you sit down.”
My pussy was slick and wet, and my fingers easily slid around my clit. I moaned, hardly recognizing the pleasure in my own voice.
“Harder,” I said, tempting the beast. Telling him I could take it, could handle the thick ridge of his cock and everything he could give me.
He tightened his grip on my wrist, his fingernails digging into me. With his other hand, he yanked on my hair, forcing me to arch my back and give him even deeper access.
I couldn’t move like this, could only swirl my finger against my clit as more blood rushed to my pussy, as the heat built and spread like wildfire.
“I’m going to come inside you,” he growled, fucking me so hard that the pleasure twisted together with a rough spike of pain. Landon’s promise was good… I was going to be sore tomorrow.
I was going to be sore before this was over.
His breathing grew louder, turned into guttural moans. I moved my finger in frantic circles, the wave of pleasure building as he said, Fuck, fuck, fuck in a rough, raspy voice.
And then just as my heat exploded, his dick throbbed inside me. “Fuuuuck,” he said, thrusting hard, burying himself to the hilt as his dick pumped, and he groaned, loud and long.
I struggled to catch my breath, waiting until his cock stopped pulsing and he pulled out of me. And then he fell onto the stairs beside me, pulling my up against him. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his harsh breathing hot on my skin.
He kissed me, his lips skimming against my neck and leaving a trail of butterfly kisses. So tender, so at odds with what we’d just done, which could only be describe as brutal, forceful.
Landon was a man of dark and light, always battling for space.
“You okay?” he asked, as if he’d just come out of a fog.
“Mhmm,” I said.
“Let’s get you into the shower.”
He pulled me to gently my feet, leading me up the stairs and to the master bath. Inside, he turned on the dual showerhead and then flipped a lever to trigger the overhead rain shower, steam quickly overtaking the bathroom.
He pulled off his shirt, dropping it to the floor and then opening the glass shower door.