Two Can Play (Celeste and Dominic) novel Chapter 360

Chapter 360

When he finally pulled out, I collapsed forward, gasping, coughing, my whole body shaking. He did not give me time to recover. He reached down, hooked his fingers into the lace of my lingerie, and tore it off me in one savage pull, ripping the straps, shredding the fabric, leaving me naked on my knees on the floor with nothing but the marks of his hands on my skin.

He grabbed my arm and hauled me up, spun me around, and bent me over the edge of the table. Before I could even brace myself, his palm cracked against my ass, hard enough to make me yelp, and then again, and again, spanking me in a rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart.

My skin burned with every blow, and I bit down on the pain, swallowed it whole, because every stinging impact was another step closer to the money I needed, another brick in the empire I was building. I took it, my fingers scrabbling at the table’s edge, my breath coming in ragged sobs, and I thought of the zeros stacking up in my account and told myself this was worth it. This was always worth it.

He grabbed the back of my neck, his fingers digging into the muscle there, and slammed me forward onto the table. The wood bit into my breasts, my cheek pressed against the cold surface, and I felt the head of his cock nudge against my pussy. He thrust into me in one brutal motion, burying himself to the hilt, and I screamed, my body arching against the table, my hands clawing at the wood as he filled me completely.

He did not slow down. He fucked me hard, pounding into me with a force that shoved my body forward with every thrust, my breasts sliding against the polished surface, my hips pinned beneath his grip. I struggled to take it, my pussy clenching around him, too much, and he only laughed and drove deeper, hitting that spot that made my vision go white.

He gripped my neck tighter, his fingers pressing against my throat just enough to make my head swim, and he fucked me until I was crying, tears streaming down my face onto the table, my voice gone raw with the sounds he was pulling out of me.

Then he pulled out.

I gasped at the sudden emptiness, but before I could catch my breath, he had hauled me up by my hair, spun me around, and shoved his cock back into my mouth, still wet with me, still slick and hot. He fucked my throat again, just as brutally as before, gripping my hair with both hands now, using my face like it was his personal toy, and I gagged and choked and swallowed around him, spit running down my chin, my mascara ruined, my whole world reduced to the cock in my throat and the hands that held me there. 1

When he had had enough, he pulled out and turned me around, bending me over the table once more, and then he was inside me again from behind, slamming into my pussy with a force that made me cry out, his hips pounding against my ass, his fingers digging into my hips so hard I knew there would be bruises, and he spanked me with every thrust, his palm cracking against my burning skin while I sobbed and took it.

“Whose whore are you?” he growled, his voice rough, his rhythm never slowing.

“Yours,” I gasped, the word torn out of me. “I am your whore.”

He spanked me harder, and I winced, my whole body jerking, but I did not correct myself. I said it again, louder, because it was true and because the truth was paying me.

“I am your whore,” I cried out, and he groaned and fucked me harder, pounding into me until I could not think, could not breathe, could not do anything but hang onto the table and take everything he gave me.

When he was ready, he pulled out, spanked my ass one last time, and commanded me to get on my knees. I turned immediately, dropping to the floor in front of him, my chest heaving, my body shaking, my face a wreck of tears

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and spit. He stood over me, stroking himself, his eyes locked on mine, and then he came, hot and thick, spilling his cum all over my face, painting my cheeks, my lips, my chin, until I was glistening with him.

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