I, Porn Star(85)

Then he keeps me there, trapped between his legs, trapped on the precipice of bliss as my body catches fire.

My vision loses focus and I burn inside and out. My legs give out, but he’s there, propping me up with effortless strength, never for a second letting up on what he’s doing to me.

“It’s too much, Q! Please…Oh God, I’m coming!” Did he give me blanket permission to come? I can’t remember. But I know I won’t be able to stop myself this time. “I’m coming!” I warn and plead again.

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t berate me. His guttural groan wraps hot around my nipple, and he pulls hard and relentlessly at my flesh.

I surrender to the explosive force ripping up from my toes. White-hot convulsions rip through me, clenching deep in my pussy and around the plug in my ass. I’m vaguely aware I’m falling. I’m going to crash hard, but I don’t care. This feeling is too incredible to worry about where I land.

I bump against something hard. His body. He grunts but doesn’t let go. The hand on my hip releases me and I hear a hurried fumbling. My vision is still shot to shit and I’m still caught under waves of pleasure. I gasp when the vibrator is tugged out of my pussy. He releases my wrists and tugs me forward to place my hands on the armchair on either side of his head. Rough hands lift me over his lap and his thick head breaches my core. Dark eyes stare up at me, absorb my every breath as he forces my hips down to receive him.

Another scream rips through the room.

The plug in my ass leaves very little room for him. I’m full. Crammed tighter than I’ve ever been, sending the pleasure pain dichotomy to optimum levels. My eyes water and I can’t breathe.

My senses reel in silent, stunned wonder. Suddenly, I’m conflicted by how much I like being fucked by him. I’m a whore. I’m not supposed to enjoy this.

But I love it. Oh God, how much to do I love what’s happening to me right now?

Q, attuned to me with frighteningly sharp acuity, probes me deeper with his eyes.

“Good?”

“Yes!” My response ends in another scream as he withdraws and crams me full again.

“More?” he demands with his electric voice.

“Uh huh.”

The grip on my hips tightens. I’m sure I’ll have a few bruises to show in the morning.#p#分页标题#e#

He gives me more. And somewhere in between being fucked to death and pure ecstasy, I become aware that something is missing. Something vital, that pertains to my whole reason for being here.

The whine of the cameras.

We’re in near total darkness. He’s not filming this.

So this is for him alone?

The thought pleases me way more than it should. It makes me grip the chair tighter, clench my pussy and slam harder into him.

“Motherfucker,” he growls. His voice is so thick it’s barely coherent.

A smile curves my lips, almost of its own accord. I feel him shudder beneath me, and I grind into him, harder than before. The move resonates deep inside me, the thickness of him hitting me in a spot that makes color explode across my vision.

“Pleased with yourself, are you, my little firecracker?” he drawls after another deep groan.

The sound draws my gaze to his throat, then up to his lips. I want to kiss him. The need pounds me so bad my lips tingle. I lick my tongue across my mouth. “Hmm.” I lower my head, desperate for a taste.

He draws back from me. The move is subtle, but definitive. It causes actual pain to resonate inside me.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I push the sensation away, close my eyes and concentrate on other pleasures.

“You don’t want to see me anymore, Lucky?” he taunts. “You don’t like what you see?”

On the contrary, I like it too much. I shake my head. “It’s not that.”

“Open your eyes,” he commands. “You may not want to see me, but I want to see you.”

There’s an odd timbre to his words. A thin layer of cruelty underpinned by…vulnerability. My eyes pop open. His stare is bold and carnal, his dark eyes at odds with his tone.

“I want to see you,” I murmur. My gaze drops to his hard torso. “Touch you.”

“Fuck me?”

My head jerks up and down. “Yes.”

His hands release my hips, fall to his sides. “Fuck me,” he commands. His eyes have taken on a different gleam. “Earn your money. Make me glad I picked you.”

My breath catches at the savage cruelty behind his words. The pain that lances me is deeper, sharper. I don’t know why his words have this power over me, but tears sting my eyes. I blink them away, struggle to regain common sense.