Page 205 of Mile High Ex's Dad

Page List
Font Size:

He lifts his head just enough to speak. “Please what?”

I glare at him, or try to. It probably looks pathetic.

He smiles. “Use your words.”

“I need you.”

“Where?”

I hate him.

I love him so much I can barely stand it.

“Inside me,” I say. “Please.”

That does it.

He stands only long enough to shove his trousers down and free himself. I barely get a look before he’s back over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other guiding himself to me.

He doesn’t push in right away. He drags the head of his cock through the wet mess he made of me, slow and cruel, watching my face every second.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he says.

My heart twists.

Because even now, even like this, even when he’s hard and impatient and practically shaking with restraint, he’s careful with the part of me that still needs care.

“It won’t,” I whisper.

His jaw tightens. “Tell me anyway.”

“I will.”

Only then does he push inside.

My back arches. He fills me slowly at first, inch by inch, giving my body time to take him. It’s intense, almost too much, that first deep stretch after already coming twice, but then he’s fully inside me and everything settles into a pleasure so thick it makes my eyes close.

He stays still, breathing hard above me. “Look at me.”

I do.

His face is tight with control. “You feel too good,” he says.

I wrap my legs around his hips. “Then move.”

His eyes flash.

He pulls out almost all the way and drives back in, and I moan, loud enough that he covers my mouth with his.

The pace turns rough quickly. Deep, hard thrusts that push me up the rug, his body heavy over mine, his mouth at my throat, one hand gripping my thigh to hold me open. It’s not gentle anymore, and I don’t want it to be.

I want the weight of him. I want the force.

I want to feel him everywhere and think of nothing else.

The fire cracks beside us. The rug burns softly against my bare back. The cabin creaks in the wind. Outside, the mountains are still and cold, and inside Viktor is fucking me like I’m the only warm thing left in the world.

“You’re mine,” he says against my mouth.