Open Your Legs For Me Novels & Stories

When I finally pulled away panting, I took my trousers off to my knee level and spread her legs wide. “Brace yourself. You’re about to receive a taste of Iron Claw.”

I gasped again in a shuddered and he nodded his head gently and sarcastically before saying. “That’s it, kitten… that’s how you open your legs for me… subconsciously gentle, yet wide and perfect. Like my slut.”

My hair fans out like spilled ink. He moves to stand between my knees. “Lift your shift.” My hands shake as I gather the linen, draw it up my thighs. Higher. Higher. Until the fabric bunches at my waist. Cool air kisses the bare skin between my legs. I’m exposed. Completely. His eyes darken. A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Open,” he says. “Show the altar what belongs to it.” My thighs part—slow, trembling. The position feels obscene, sacred, impossible.

"And then you're going to fix your skirt and walk back out there and every time Tyler looks at you tonight you're going to think about my hand between your legs." His hand finds the hem of my skirt and slides under it, his palm warm and certain against my thigh, and my breath shallows immediately. He takes his time, moves up the inside of my thigh slowly, and every centimetre makes my pulse jump somewhere new. My thighs press together and he makes a low sound against my neck. "Open," he says. I don't. His teeth graze my throat. "Open your legs, Layla." My thighs part and I hate myself for how quickly they do it.

In my heart, in my belly, and most importantly, in between my legs. It took a great deal of self-control not to clench my thighs together for some form of relief. "Take off your pants." Unlike the shirt, it was gone faster than I thought I could get them off, baring my thong-clothed behind to him. "Spread your legs apart." His words had a sense of urgency to them, letting me know I wasn't the only one eager. My legs parted. "Adonis..." I heaved. "I don't think I have the patience for this. Just... take me. F*ck me already."

I feel my legs naturally opening on their own wanting more. I can feel Josh’s hardness against my core, but he moves it away as he continues down my body and his mouth hovers above my pussy. I close my eyes, but he quickly stops me. “Open those beautiful eyes, Mandy. I want to see you watching me love you,” he says as I open them and look down at my man between my legs.

My pussy dripped, bit I dragged my legs backward until I got to the bed. Slowly, I lowered myself on it, climbing backwardly while keeping my gaze on his. His jaws tightened, twitching like he was trying so hard not to spread my legs apart and suck the life out of me. When I got on the bed completely, I sat still watching him until he gave his next command. “Spread your legs…. Wide.” My stomach churned and oh! How I love my men, dark and mysterious. My legs parted and I spread them wide, just as widely as he had commanded.

"Open." I bit the bottom of my lip hard, a low, shaky gasp escaping me as I did exactly as he’d said and spread my legs wide open for him. I pressed my knees out as far as they could go, completely exposing my dripping, swollen center to his view, feeling the tight flesh of my pussy stretching out in anticipation. Easton’s eyes darkened into a nearly pitch-black shade as his gaze moved directly to the wet, dripping spot in between my legs. His eyes were literally feasting on me, taking in the raw, messy sight of how bad I was starving for him.

As soon as his lips touched mine, I felt every muscle in my body stiffen. He deepened the kiss, running his tongue through my mouth with a ravenous rhythm. Without breaking the kiss, he lift me up and lead my legs around his waist. We hear the dress rip along the sides of both my legs but we couldn’t care less. Before I could think of it, I felt my back touching the bed as he positioned himself between my tights without breaking the kiss.

“ Now keep those pretty hands on your thighs.” He lets go of me. I obey, palms slapping down on my bare skin. The dress rides higher as I spread my legs wider, opening everything up for him. Fingering myself would scratch the itch, but his fingers buried deep? Even better. That’ll fucking ruin me in the best way. “ That's my girl.”