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against my clit. I let out a strangled gasp at the feeling, but he gives me no quarter.
    “You want this, right?” He whispers against my ear.
    “Yes,” I groan.
    He licks my neck, every nerve electric in sheer want . “You need to show me you really want it. Do you?” He’s sliding his cock against my clit, teasing, and fuck, fuck , I need him inside me.
    “Please, Drew,” I whimper.
    “Please what?”
    “Please fuck me." Saying it gives me a new thrill.
    “Again.” He nips my earlobe, sliding his cock down to tease my entrance, so close, not close enough, it’s torture.
    “Please, Drew, please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me!” I sob out, and I love how he kissing me hungrily.
    I had asked, no begged him to fuck me, so he does, taking me hard and fast and I can't help it, his name escapes me in a choked sob released into his greedy mouth. He's big ; the outline of his cock displayed under the blanket in his hotel had been no lie. I'm full, stretched to the brink.
    Drew gives me no time to adjust to his girth, snapping his hips up again and again in an unrelenting rhythm. Pinned to the door by his thrusts, the molding digging into my skin, I am at his mercy.
    This is his show, and he plays me as he will.
    His thrusts slow and stop, his kiss becomes more languid, and then he slips out of me and lowers me to the ground. I stifle a whine of protest; I want to ask why when I’ve done all he asked.
    His hands move up from my ass to my bare tits, and they feel like they belong there. It's delicious, but after having him inside me, after climbing towards my second peak, it's not nearly enough.
    “Something wrong?” he chuckles. He's sucking and biting and words escape me again, so instead, I thrust my hand between us to grasp his cock, the condom still slick with my juices, and stroke forcefully.
    Drew shucks off his shirt. I can't help my eyes sweeping his body, his sculpted chest and erect cock taunting me. Wetting my lips with the tip of my tongue, I'm about to break the intensity of his gaze when he grabs my wrist and pulls.
    “Bend over.” His voice is thick as he pulls me back again to the small dining table and positions my hands on the top. I don't protest, anticipation running thick in my veins as he moves behind me, his large, warm hand resting on the small of my back. I comply readily, the need racing in tingles up my spine. It's easy to read what he wants, and the idea of him taking me like this, bent over from behind like rutting animals—it’s so filthy that I eagerly widen my stance to accommodate him. I want to feel him this way, want him to put actions to his words, and as I feel his body cover mine from behind, hot and muscled, I raise my ass higher. I need this too much not to.
    “Fuck, I love your ass,” he says, smacking my ass. “Those skirts you wear drive me insane, you know that? Fuck.” Another squeeze, another slap, and I'm dizzy.
    I feel him shift, his body moves closer and his cock plunges inside me suddenly and forcefully, causing me to arch my back in pleasure. He's deeper in this position. I feel overfull, and with each hard thrust he hits something that makes me sob. My body is buzzing because of him, pleasure with a dash of pain.
    One hand is on my hip to keep me steady. When the second hand slides down to my swollen clit and begins to stroke, I nearly come.
    I'm clenching in my pleasure, tightening around him it feels so good, and his thrusts become harder.
    He starts to talk, hot and close to my ear. “You love this, don't you, love getting fucked. Tell me how much you want it or I'll stop.”
    The slow slide of his cock makes me insane when I just want him hard and deep, want him to hit that spot again that makes me melt.
    The filth he speaks in my ear thrills me. “I love—ah—when you fuck me!”
    The hard thrust he rewards me with sends a bolt of pleasure to my belly. I push my ass back against him in my frustration and he retaliates with a bite to my shoulder,