He didn’t say anything.
His fists were clenched.
His jaw was locked.
And that cock? It twitched so hard I felt it jump.
I started to move. Hips rolling in small, slow circles. My cunt dragging across him.
My hands running up to cup my tits and squeeze them right in his face. I rubbed my nipples, milk spilling onto his thighs, then leaned back and let my head drop, my belly curved, my body arched.
“Oh fuck… Daddy… look at me,” I moaned. “Look how filthy your little Omega’s gotten. I’m giving you a lap dance with your cum still dripping out of me. I’m swollen. I’m bred. And I’m still fucking horny.”
I bit my lip again. Rolled my hips faster. Ground my pussy down until my clit rubbed the base of his cock just right.
“I practiced this, you know,” I gasped, riding slow. “Late at night. When I couldn’t sleep. I used to ride my pillow just like this and imagine you were watching me. Pretending I was your little toy.”
His hands shot up.
Gripped my hips.
And his eyes-fuck-they were glowing.
“Keep going,” Damon growled, his voice thick like molten heat, the kind that made my insides squeeze and my thighs shake harder than they already were.
His hands gripped my hips like he owned me-like he was seconds from losing control-and the moment I felt that pressure tighten, my whole body fucking responded.
“Yes, Daddy,” I moaned, licking my lips, already grinding on him without shame, without fear, without a single fuck left in the world.
I rolled my hips in slow, wide circles, my slick dragging along the full length of his cock, coating him with every drop that poured from my cunt. I could feel the tip catch against my clit. I could feel my folds swollen and puffy and begging to be split open again.
“Grind your ass on Daddy’s dick,” he said, voice dark and low. “Grind it until I can’t see anything but how wet you are. Rub that little pussy all over it, kitten. I want to see how dirty you can be.”
I moaned louder, my hands sliding up my belly, over my tits, squeezing hard enough to make milk spill between my fingers.
I arched my back and leaned into him, breasts pressed against his chest as my hips started to move faster. I wasn’t even sitting, I was hovering, grinding his cock with my whole cunt like I was fucking starving for it.
“You only want to sit on it, huh?” he hissed, watching me with those golden, glowing eyes, pupils blown wide. “You want to ride it, but I didn’t say you could only sit on it. I said grind. Fucking grind kitten!”
And so I did.
I stayed just above him, body trembling from how much I needed to be filled, and I started to grind harder-messier- rubbing my pussy up and down his cock like I was trying to fuck myself open without letting him in.
The head bumped my clit again and again. My thighs started shaking. My moans got louder. I was soaking him. Fuck, I was soaking everything.
“Shake that ass,” he growled, voice rising with need. “Twerk for me. I want to see it bounce. Clap that shit on my lap, kitten. You’re my fucking show now.”
I bit my lip and leaned forward, hands braced on his knees, and I started to bounce. Real bouncing.
My ass slapped down with every drop, every little twerk making his cock slide through my folds and smear with my slick. The sound of my ass clapping against his thighs echoed through the room, wet and sharp and obscene.
I looked back over my shoulder, messy hair in my face, tits still leaking, body trembling, and moaned, “You like that, Daddy? You like how I twerk for you even after you fucked me raw? Look at my ass, it’s still bouncing. I’m still leaking. And I still fucking want more.”
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