But that’s not what she needs from me—and it sure as hell won’t get her off, which is the point of all this. I want her with me when I come, want her as far gone as I am. Want her to want this, to want me, as much as I do her.
“The sooner you get to come.” And then I’m shoving two fingers back into her cunt hard and fast enough to have her crying out. I find her G-spot right away and stroke over it with relentless precision. She takes it because she doesn’t have a choice, her body quivering and shaking and tightening around me. She’s even wetter now, her pussy all but dripping, and I take advantage of it by stiffening my fingers and rubbing them against each other—bouncing them off each other—in a kind of snap that has them slamming against her G-spot with a power that has her back bowing and her lower body slamming up against me.
It’s a good look on her—a great look—and for long seconds, I’m spellbound as I stare at her shaking shoulders, her long, sexy back, her undulating hips. Then I do the snapping thing again. I do it over and over as I relish the sounds she makes. The way she tightens around my fingers and sticks her ass in the air as she digs her toes into the table and tries to pull her knees under her for more leverage.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous like this. Sexy as hell and so beautiful she takes my breath away.
Strong enough to surrender. Flexible enough to bend instead of break.
She deserves a reward for how well she’s taking this, how well she’s handing over control. “Do you want to come?” I demand, even as I use my fingers to drive her closer and closer to the brink.
She whimpers, her head thrashing back and forth against the table.
“That’s not an answer.” I turn my hand a little so that I can slide my thumb through her slick folds and gather moisture. I stay there for a few seconds, enjoying the silky soft feel of her labia against my thumb. Then I snap my fingers hard against her G-spot at the same time I twist my hand around and plunge my thumb straight into her anus.
She cries out, her body clenching at my hand in what feels like an aborted attempt at orgasm. She’s close then, so close I can feel it in the wetness dripping over my hand.
In the fine tremors shaking her body nearly continuously.
In the flexing motions of her legs, her toes, as she digs into the table and tries to take me deeper.
Deeper into her pussy, deeper into her ass. Deeper inside of her.
It’s what I want, what I’ve wanted ever since I first saw her in person—and probably long before that, if I’m being honest. I want to be more than just another disappointing fuck to her, more than just some guy she can screw as a means to get what she wants from him.
“Good girl,” I whisper to her, letting go of her wrists once and for all so I can slide my palm over her ass and up her spine to the miles of hair still wound into the elaborate and ladylike style she’s been wearing since the last part of the photo shoot.
Like the good girl I’ve just told her she is, Veronica keeps her hands at the small of her back even as I thrust my fingers deep into her hair and pull. Hard.
At the same time, I twist my fingers—and my thumb—inside of her and she goes off, her whole body convulsing and trembling and bucking against my own.
It’s what I’ve been waiting for, this final proof that I’ve got her. That she’s out of her head, out of whatever the fuck dark place she went to earlier and is right here with me.
I pull her head up to mine with a snarl, fasten my mouth on her neck and suck, hard. At the same time, I’m twisting and rubbing my fingers inside of her. Stoking her orgasm. Taking her higher and higher and higher until her body shatters around me a second time.
Then I’m pulling off of her despite her whimpers, ignoring the hands that have finally moved from the position I held them in so long just to clutch at my hips, my thighs.
My fingers are still inside her, though, and I twist them relentlessly while, at the same time, I bring my other hand down on her ass. She screams and comes a third time, her entire body shaking and shivering like a leaf in a windstorm.
I take her through it, stoking the flames, wringing each and every drop of pleasure from her that I can. I love how well she responds, love how each shudder, each cry, each clench of her pussy on my hand tells me more about how to handle her.
When I finally pull out, she protests weakly, but I bend down and bite at the nape of her neck. “I’ve got you,” I tell her as I fumble a condom out of my wallet and rip it open. “I’ve got you.”
Once I’ve rolled it on, I stretch her arms out above her head and wrap her hands around the edge of the table. “Don’t let go,” I warn her, delivering a sharp, two fingered slap to her hip to emphasize the seriousness of the order.
And then I’m sliding my hands under her hips, pulling her back up to her knees even as I leave her upper body pressed flush against the table.
“Tell me you want this,” I demand as I spread her legs and settle myself between them.