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      Domesticatedwolff
      Participant

      <p style=”text-align: left;”>What is your favorite erotic scene from a book?

      </p>
      Chapter  11, “Beauty and the Professor” by Skye Warren. (Free on Google Play)

       

      She was asking him to touch her, begging him with her body. He set the wineglass on the coffee table.
      She groaned. “Please, Blake.”
      Jesus. He loved the sound of her, everything she said, everything she didn’t say.
      “Shh,” he soothed.
      He loved to make her come, but she was burning up now. On the edge. He could bring her higher, but only with patience. He tucked a throw pillow under her head before shedding his clothes. She watched from beneath gilt-tipped lashes, a small, appreciative smile on her face.
      Leaning over the couch, he aimed his cock at her mouth. She opened for him obediently, her dark gaze flicking up to him. The wet heat, the searing lust in her eyes, was like a vise to his balls, wrapping them up so tight he almost came right then. He shut his eyes and forced it back. Not yet.
      Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock. Her mouth had always been amazing, but it was more poignant now that she had knowledge of his body. He hadn’t been the only one taking notes. She slid her tongue along the slit, and stars bloomed behind his eyelids. She scraped the underside with the flat of her tongue, and he groaned, long and low.
      “Fuck, baby. Fuck.”
      She sucked him eagerly, pulling him in, and his hips moved forward of their own accord. He found his way inside with small, nudging thrusts, tunneling his way into the incredible warmth. It wasn’t enough. She was still tugging on him, her suction a small, feminine plea.
      He raised an eyebrow. “You want more?”
      With her lips wrapped around his cock, she nodded.
      He tapped her cheek. “I’m not sure there’s room in your sweet mouth.”
      She moaned in entreaty.
      Shifting his stance over the couch, he pushed in farther, using more control now that he was going deep. Her eyes widened, but he kept going. Kept filling her until he felt the resistance at the back of her throat. He heard her deep breaths, the evidence of her focus. He moved to pull out, but she grasped the back of his thighs, her palms slippery from her perspiration and his. He rocked himself right there, holding the position far inside, his eyes rolling back at the sensation along his dick. Sparks of pleasure ran down his spine and into the base of his cock, but he wrenched himself away from her wet heat.
      Now.
      She was limp in his arms as he lifted her. He settled her over the arm of the couch so that her hands and face could rest on the seat cushion and her ass was exposed to him. She had less control this way, so when he touched two fingers to her swollen pussy, she cried out but didn’t move. Could hardly push back against him at all, her toes digging into the plush carpet beneath them. The sight of her was breathtaking—glistening folds all open for him. Plump and wet and ready for him.
      He retrieved the wineglass and set the curved lip right at the base of her ass, sending rivulets of liquid over the puckered hole and down the valley of her sex. The liquid looked black against the leather beneath her pussy. A few dark drops landed on the carpet, but he didn’t give a shit. He leaned in. The first taste of her was wine alone before the undertones of her flavor peeked through. Her moans were a sensual accompaniment to the meal he made of her. His cock throbbed, desperate to replace his tongue, but he ignored it. He licked and sucked at her until every trace of the savory drink was gone and he was drawing more liquid from inside her.
      His balls were drawn up tight, his cock aching. He stood and leaned over her, brushing the hair from her face.
      “You ready, sweetheart?”
      She whimpered.
      He plunged inside her, swift and deep. Her cry was muffled by the leather. Driven and desperate, he pulled back before pushing inside. All his control evaporated, his mercy for her missing in action. He could only fuck her as hard as he needed to and hope she could take it.
      She sobbed gently, her hands clenching at nothing beside her head. He changed his angle, pushing down where he knew she needed it. She came with a keening cry and a rush of warmth around his cock. Again. He didn’t let up, didn’t slow or change a goddamned thing—just let her climb the peak until she came with a broken sound and more liquid, more heat. He wanted to drain her, to use her up, to fuck her so long and so hard that she would never leave.
      He spread the soft cheeks of her ass apart, admiring the view. The bud of her asshole, her lips open for him. Every part of you. He felt his hands clench, and he forced them to relax. He shut his eyes and let himself go, lost himself in the tight squeeze of her pussy, drowning in the helpless sounds she made. Her orgasm clamped down around his cock, and he froze, crying out hoarsely as he emptied himself inside her, as he gave it all to her. Every part of me.
      He panted over her back, shuddering at the clenching aftershocks. With regret, he withdrew from her body and helped her up. He pulled her down onto the couch, cradling her body with his own while she caught her breath.

      “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Didn’t go too far?”
      She sounded drugged. “Let’s do it like that every time.”
      His lips curved into a smile in the moments before sleep dragged him under.

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