Psyche Cupid Novels & Stories

I suddenly don’t have the urge to go to the spa anymore after Xavier telling me about all the dirty things he’s going do to me while he kept me in his office. I want to be there now, keeping him entertained while he works. Why didn’t he take me? A surge of jealousy shoots through my body. “Do I have an access key?” Cupid reaches into his back pocket, pulling one out. He hands over the white sparkly card that has my name etched at the top. Under my name, it reads Mine in bold letters.

Her heartbeat rose, but she forced herself to stay calm, to stay measured. He finally turned to her. His gaze held hers—not sharp, not accusing—but heavy, like it was weighing the truth of her every thought before it reached her lips. “I don’t know if that’s wise,” he said quietly. “Neither do I,” she admitted, and the words felt like permission as much as confession. The pause that followed was filled with the sound of rain dripping along the roof outside. A soft, steady rhythm, marking time in a way that made the silence between them unbearable.

Isabella’s pussy clenched around his fingers, the pressure building to an almost unbearable level as he thrust deeper. “I… I… I want to pee!” Isabella cried out, her voice shaking as she struggled to regain her bearings. The pleasure that had consumed her moments ago had left her trembling, her knees weak as she tried to dismount the chair, a sense of urgency flooding her body. His smirk. “I want you to squirt in my face, baby girl. I want to taste your squirt,” he purred, his words dripping with lust as he pumped his fingers even faster, the wet slapping of skin filling the room.