Healing Carson's Little - Izaia Winter Page 0,76

opening was loud in. He poured a generous amount onto his hand and tossed the container aside, signally to my brain that things were about to get very heated very quickly.

I watched his hand drop, my body feverish as his hand disappeared from my view. The muscles in my body instinctively tightened when his finger circled my aching hole, so ready to be filled by him. I press down slightly, wanting even the tiniest bit of penetration.

His other hand landed on my thigh, holding me open while at the same time soothing my nerves with his gentle touch.

“Have just a little bit,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire as he pressed into me.

I moaned at the sensation, a hint of frustration threading through my body at his patience. I couldn’t tell if it was just his way of teasing me or if he was starting to treat me with kid gloves. One I could understand, the other I wouldn’t tolerate. I wanted to feel the stretch and burn. I wanted to feel alive. No, I needed to feel alive.

“Please,” I begged as I tried to press down on his hand once again. “I need more.”

“It’s been a long time for you,” he said, pressing his finger deeper into me. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

And there is was: kid gloves.

“I want it to hurt.” I lifted my head and met his startled gaze. “I want to feel you. I want to walk out of this apartment and feel you for days.”

A fire blazed in his eyes. Yes, that was what I wanted. Since the beginning, he had always treated me like a little who had simply lost his way and never like the sad, little broken boy I had felt like. He damn sure wasn’t going to start the first time we made love.

And so what if I was a little fucked up inside. Weren’t we all? And if I wanted to feel my sweet with a bite of pain, whose business was it except for mine and my Daddy’s? I could no longer deny the things that I wanted. If I was going to give myself into his keeping, he was going to get it all.

Leaning over me, he placed one hand beside my head and stopped when his face was inches from me. “You want to feel me, little darling?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“So be it.” With a firm push, he pressed his finger inside of me in one smooth motion.

I sucked in a breath and clutched at his shoulders as my body stretched to accommodate his sudden entry. I huffed when he came to a stop as the rest of his hand prevented him from going any further, my body shuddering at all the sensations. A short laugh forced its way out of my throat, a response to the pleasure and the burn.

“Thank you,” I sighed against his neck.

Broken thoughts whirled through my mind: too much, perfect, more.

He worked his finger in and out of my body, stretching me just enough to accept another digit. I knew I was leaving marks on his shoulders when he added a third. His fingers were like magic as he opened me up for his cock, occasionally brushing against my prostate.

I felt so empty when he pulled out, but he didn’t leave me for long. I had no idea when he had lubed up his cock, but I felt his head at my entrance seconds later. Holding my breath, I pushed down on him as he entered my body. I moaned at the fullness and heat of him as he fought his way inside.

He held himself still once his cock was as deep as he could go, his balls resting against my ass and his hips stretching my joints as he held me wide open. “Are you good?” he asked against my sweaty temple, giving me a second to adjust.

Nodding, I rested my head onto his shoulder in an awkward position. “Yes, Daddy.”

Taking me at my word, he looped his hands under my knees and pushed them against my chest. He pulled out of me slowly, letting me feel every thick inch of him sliding against my muscles. I squeezed down on him, loving the feel of him dragging against my flesh.

Faster than I expected, he was back inside of me, his hips surging forward as his arms held me in place.

“You feel so good strangling my cock, little darling. You’re so tight for Daddy.”

I realized his first slow stroke had been a

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