PLEASE DONT STOP

He did not give me time to recover.

The moment the last tremor of my orgasm faded he pulled almost all the way out, the thick head of his cock catching on my swollen entrance, then slammed back into me. My cry cracked in the middle. My hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging crescents into hard muscle as he set a punishing rhythm that stole the air from the room.

Every stroke dragged over the sensitive spot inside me that made stars burst behind my eyes.

The wet, filthy sound of his cock plunging into my soaked pussy added rhythm to the slapping of our skin and moans.

His heavy balls swung forward with the thrusts, smacking against my clit with every deep thrust. I could feel the impact all the way up my spine.

“Fuck—yes—” The words tore out of me on a broken moan. “Just like that, Daddy… don’t stop—please.”

He growled low in his throat and obeyed.

One of his hands shoved the silk of my lingerie higher until my tits were completely out.

He squeezed both softly while his hips kept moving inside me. His mouth closed over a nipple and sucked hard, teeth grazing the tight peak until I arched off the bed with a sharp cry.

The dual sensation—his tongue lashing my nipple while his cock stretched me open—made me dizzy.

“Fuck!” I muttered as I felt myself squirting around him, the slick evidence of how desperately I wanted this coating his dick and dripping down onto the sheets.

He switched to the other nipple, biting just hard enough to sting, then soothed the mark with slow, wet pulls of his mouth.

I cried out again, my head falling back and my fingers tangling in his hair, holding him there while my hips rose to meet every thrust.

He was relentless.

When he finally released my nipple it was dark pink and wet and aching. He braced both hands on the mattress beside my head and drove into me harder, the angle changing so the head of his cock dragged directly over that perfect spot inside me on every stroke.

My thighs trembled in the air. How wrong I had been to doubt a man this good in bed.

My pussy fluttered around him in warning.

“I’m… fuck! I’m going to cum again—” I could not finish the sentence.

The third orgasm ripped through me without mercy. My back bowed, a broken sob tearing from my throat as my inner walls clamped down in hard, rhythmic pulses.

I felt myself squirt around his cock, the sudden flood of wetness making every thrust louder, filthier. He groaned as he fucked me straight through it, never slowing, drawing the climax out until I was shaking and gasping and half-sobbing his name.

“Adrian… oh God! Adrian…”

He still did not speak.

Instead he pulled out completely. The sudden emptiness made me whimper.

Before I could reach for him he flipped me onto my stomach as if I weighed nothing, dragged my hips up until I was on my knees, and buried himself to my core again in one brutal stroke.

“Ouuu…” My face pressed into the pillow. The new angle forced a raw, animal sound from my throat. He was so deep I felt him in my stomach. His hands gripped my waist hard enough to bruise as he began to fuck me from behind, the wet slap of his hips against my ass echoing through the dark room.

He spanked both cheeks hard and mercilessly, and I could feel them jiggle under each strike.

Every thrust made my soft mounds sway and bounce beneath me. My nipples scraped the sheets with every movement, sending fresh sparks of pleasure straight to my core.

I could feel everything now. The thick ridge of his cock spreading me open, the heavy swing of his balls against my clit, the hot rush of his breath against the back of my neck. He leaned over me, chest to my back, and reached around to find my clit with two rough fingers.

Damn!

The dual stimulation was too much. “Oh, Daddy… it feels good. Please don’t stop!” I moaned.

He groaned against my ear, his breath warm on my earlobes.

I came again with a muffled scream into the pillow, pussy milking his cock in desperate pulses while he kept pounding into me.

“Don’t stop, Daddy.” The words slipped out with raw need. “Please… don’t stop.”

He made a low, approving sound and fucked me harder.

Time blurred. I lost count of how many times I came. Each climax left me more sensitive than the last until every thrust felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

The sheets beneath me were soaked.

He finally dragged me up so my back was flush against his chest, still buried deep inside me. One arm banded around my waist; the other hand cupped a soft mound and pinched my nipple while he thrust up into me from below. My head fell back against his shoulder. I turned my face toward his and found his mouth in the dark, kissing him messily, desperately, while he continued to fuck me with short, deep strokes that made me see stars.

His rhythm stuttered and a low, guttural groan vibrated against my lips as he slammed up hard one final time and held there, cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside me.

I gasped as I felt his load of cum flood my pussy.

He kept thrusting through it, his pace slower now as he groaned. I could feel him losing himself in this one connection with me.

His cock pushed every drop of semen as deep as it would go. So much that I felt it begin to leak out around his dick and trickle down my thighs.

My final orgasm crashed over me at the feel of him filling me. I shook in his arms, pussy clenching around the thick length still buried inside me, milking every last spurt of cum from his balls until he was spent and breathing hard against my neck.

We lay together, his cock still twitching inside me, my body trembling as we both tried to catch our breath.

His weight settled over me for a moment before he finally pulled out. I felt the thick slide of his cock leaving me, followed by the immediate warm rush of his cum leaking from my used pussy. The loss made me whimper.

He did not speak. He only pressed one last open-mouthed kiss to the side of my throat, then rolled onto his back beside me.

I lay there, chest heaving, my silk lingerie still rucked up around my waist. Every muscle in my body vibrated. I had never felt so thoroughly claimed in my life.

A soft, almost disbelieving laugh escaped me.

“Adrian…” I whispered into the dark, reaching out to touch his chest. “That was—”

My fingers met bare skin and the steady rise and fall of his breathing. He had already fallen silent again. Exhausted, maybe. Or simply finished with me.

I should have felt triumphant. Instead a faint, inexplicable unease slid under my skin.

The cologne still clinging to him did not smell like anything I had ever noticed on Adrian before.

I pushed the thought away, too sated and sore to examine it. I carefully tugged my lingerie back into place, wincing at the pleasant ache between my legs, and slipped from the bed. We weren’t married yet and the house was full. I would share beds when we were married—certainly not now.

The marble floor was cold under my bare feet as I crossed to the door.

I paused with my hand on the handle and looked back once.

In the dim moonlight I could still see the powerful outline of him on the bed, one arm flung above his head, the sheet tangled low around his hips, the faint gleam of sweat on his skin. He did not move. Was he already asleep?

I slipped out into the corridor and closed the door behind me as quietly as I had opened it.

Only when I was safely back in my own room, back pressed to the door and heart still racing, did the first real seed of doubt take root.

Why had he never said my name?

Why had he never said anything at all?

I pushed the questions down, climbed into my own bed, and closed my eyes, body still pulsing with the memory of how hard he had fucked me.

I smiled, biting my lip with accomplishment.

Dawn was only a few hours away.

I had no idea that when the sun rose, everything I thought I knew about the man in that bed would shatter.