Ricochet Read Online Free PDF Page B

definitely say, “Yes.” But instead
I say, “I’m on Depo…” My drink was strong. I’m incredibly turned on and was
deprived a well-deserved orgasm. I don’t want this to stop. I want to keep
going. He slides his head up and down across my clit. He circles the entrance
to my pussy, almost, but not quite entering me. I thrust upwards, begging him
with my lips and my body. He teases me with his cock as he runs his free hand
through my hair.
    I
can’t take it. I need him inside me. I ache with longing, as if I am only just
now aware of the empty space inside me that needs to be filled with his dick. I
grab his hips and pull him towards me. I bite my lip as I look into his eyes
with pure, unashamed need. He finally gives in, and penetrates. I’m overwhelmed
with sensation as I stretch to accommodate him. Breathing gets harder as we ebb
and flow. My hips rise as his fall. The light inside me ignites again, and this
time, he doesn’t douse it. I dig my nails into the flesh of his shoulders as he
hastens his pace. Our bodies grow slick with sweat, every muscle on my body
becomes tense, awaiting the impending release. My little ball of light was
burning bright, blazing through me in waves. Blinding me, pushing me over the
edge.   I gripped him tight as I lost
control. I fell off the cliff of arousal into the sea of orgasm fast and hard. A
guttural, primal sound escaped my lips. He rode it out, catching all my shock
waves, pumping in time to the pulse of my body.
    I
came back to reality, slowly and then all at once. I met Cash’s gaze as I
caught my breath.
    “Are
you ok?” he asked.
    “Yeah,
yeah. I’m… awesome,” I giggled, “Did you not finish?”
    “No,
I wanted to make sure you got yours first,” he replied. He started moving
inside me again.
    “I
expected it to be a little kinkier, given the conversation we just had,” I
teased. He stopped.
    “Yeah?”
he challenged.
    “Yeah,”
I replied. He laughed. He gathered my hair in his hand and pulled, hard. I let
out an involuntary moan. He grabbed my hip and flipped me onto my stomach. He
pulled my ass up to meet him, and used his hold on my hair to push my face into
the mattress. With one hand entwined in my hair, pinning my head in place, and
the other holding my hands behind my back, he entered me from behind. The
mattress muffled my screams as he rammed into me, grazing my cervix with every
other stroke. He let go of my hair to free a hand to smack me hard on my ass. He
grabbed my hair again, using it to yank me upright. He wrapped his hand around
my throat, squeezing hard enough to labor my breathing and elicit a gasp as I
choked for air.
    “How’s
this?” he whispered wetly in my ear.
    “Hit
me again,” I begged, “Harder.” He threw me back to the mattress, pressing on
the back of my head to stifle the sounds I made. He reared back and struck me
again, jolting my entire frame.
    “Like
that? Is that hard enough for you?” he leaned down to breathe into my ear.
    “Harder,”
I choked. I don’t think I meant this. I think it was quite hard enough. I was
certain I would have handprints on my ass in the morning. Tears welled in my
eyes, not from sadness, disappointment, or pain, but purely from being
overwhelmed by sensation. He rubbed my ass where he had smacked me, increasing
the speed of his thrusts. I could feel his dick behind my belly button, and was
certain I wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Surely he had perforated some
vital tissues and rendered me invalid. His thrust sped up as he laid another
strike across my backside. Suddenly he slowed, and I felt him exit me. Warmth
spurted across my back.
    “Don’t
move, I’ll be right back,” he said sternly.
    He
cleaned me up gently and said, “Ok, you’re good.” I collapsed into the
mattress. He stroked my hair and asked if I was ok.
    “Yeah.
I’m good,” I echoed. I think I was good. Like really, really good. I can’t
remember the last time I was so fully and completely