Free That Filthy Book by Natalie Dae, Lily Harlem Page B

sure?”
    “Yes, I’m sure, please.” I lowered and deepened my voice, surprising myself at how husky and dirty I sounded when I spoke. “Jacob, fuck me—fuck me up the arse, now.”
    The sound that erupted from his throat was more growl than speech, and in an instant the rigid crown of his cock was there; pressing, pushing.
    The lube was cool, his cock hot, and when he pushed in that first inch, the sensation of the two temperatures mixing was a welcome distraction from the whip of pain snapping around my anal opening. It stung like a firecracker, burning and biting.
    “Ah fuck, yes I’m in, love, you did it.”
    “Oh, God,” I groaned. How would I be able to take any more of him? He was so wide and so unimaginably long to fit inside my small cavity. I continued to masturbate, harnessing and swapping the sensations spinning through my pelvis.
    “I’m going in deeper,” he said, wrapping his fingers around my hipbones and pinning me tight to the bed. “Tell me to stop if you need to.”
    I shook my head frantically. I wanted him to ride into me as much as I wanted him to get the hell out.
    “Oh, sweet motherfucker,” he moaned, as he slid further in.
    “Oh God, Jacob,” I said, the words thick and heavy in my throat.
    He was so deep now, his balls nudged my engorged labia. The sensation was nothing like the butt plug. He was so wide; the whole length of him. Unlike the tapered shape of the plug, his cock was a dense rod of flesh, spearing me.
    My muscles contracted, and I had an unbearable urge to expel him, to bear down. I opened my mouth in anguish, fearful of what was about to happen.
    He withdrew. Not all the way, just so the head of his cock was inside me, the flare of his glans nestled against the inside wall of my arse. The feeling, thankfully, retreated.
    “Karen, love, I’m not going to last long. This is fucking amazing.”
    I groaned in response. Worked at my clit and claimed the first spark that would lead me to orgasm.
    “Are you okay?” he asked.
    “Yes, yes,” I panted. “But can I have the vibrator too? To send me over the edge with you.” I stretched for it and he moved slightly with me so he didn’t pop out. I tossed it downwards for him, and within a second its familiar humming filled the room. It was one of those vibrators with ears, tiny buzzing ears, and as he smoothed it into my channel, I guided the ears to either side of my clit.
    Instantly, the sensations went up a level. I never stood a chance of lasting with the vibrator, and with him in my arse—well, I was already pulsing on the edge of orgasm.
    “I’m going to fuck your arse harder now,” Jacob said in a rasping voice that held more than a hint of the bad boy in him.
    “Yes, yes, Jacob, fuck my arse, fuck me hard.”
    He drove in, his fingers tight on my hips and his cock claiming my body in a way it never had before. It was so utterly primitive and deliciously bad that I cried out—in discomfort, in ecstasy, at the wonderful fullness and connection deep within me.
    He stilled. “Shit, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
    “No, fuck no, Jacob, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” I thrust backwards, trying to impale myself harder on him. The vibrator was so high, nudging my cervix, stimulating my G-spot. My clit was getting ready for take-off, and his cock, damn, his cock was burning and glorious, thick and wicked. An orgasm of the most intense variety loomed before me. But I wanted to prolong this moment before I grabbed it.
    “Jesus, I can feel the vibrator,” Jacob groaned, pulling back then steaming in again. “No fucking wonder it gets you off every time, it feels fucking fabulous.”
    I couldn’t reply. My world had spiralled into a wonderful kaleidoscope of ecstasy. Carnal, primitive ecstasy. I was coming, it was there. Holding it off was impossible.
    “Jacob, I’m, I’m…please, speak dirty to me while I…please…”
    There was a pulse beat of hesitation then, “Ah, yes, I’m fucking your arse