Page 51 of Bang (Club Deep #3)

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“I…” I scowl and clamp my mouth shut.

“You’re going to need to tell me if you want me to stop.” He circles my clit with the vibrator, and just that motion, so close to my swollen, aching clit, makes me shake with desire. I can’t control my body, can’t keep my hand from clutching his or my lips from parting as I start to pant. “From my view, it looks like this naughty little virgin wants me to make her come harder than she ever has before. What do you think?”

“N…” But I can’t make myself do it. I can’t say no, not when I’m this fucking turned on. Not when I want the release more than anything. “I… Fuck.” I open my eyes and find him laughing, eyes glittering with triumph.

But he doesn’t wait for any more response than that. He presses the vibrator directly onto my clit, and I cry out at the intensity. He applies more pressure than I would, pins me down against the bed, and my clit was already so sensitive, the pleasure now is so sharp it almost crosses over into pain. It only takes a few seconds for me to start writhing beneath his hand, the ecstasy building rapidly. Within a minute, I’m screaming out loud as I fall over the edge into an orgasm, colors sparking behind my closed eyes as my whole body shakes with the force of it.

But when I sink back against the bed, he keeps the vibrator in place, circling it against my clit.

“Wait,” I gasp, trying to move, to wriggle out from beneath him.


But his eyes have that cold, hard look in them again, and he pins me to the bed with his other hand, keeping the vibrator pushed against my clit. It hurts this time, it’s so intense, but there’s pleasure in the pain, a building pressure all over again.

“Fuck,” I hiss, teeth clenched. I’m already rising toward another orgasm, and he is relentless, twisting the vibrator against my clit until the pressure becomes too much. I cry out again, a long wordless shout, as I come for a second time.

He makes me come twice more before he finally relents and lifts the vibrator off of me. I’m covered in sweat, my body limp from the orgasms, my pussy numb from the intensity of them.

I turn my head to find him watching me still. Now that I’ve recovered enough to pay attention, I glance toward him, and through his jeans, and in the dim light of this room, I can see the bulge in his pants, his cock straining against the zipper.

Does he want me as much as I want him? I wonder.

When I glance up again, he’s followed my gaze, and a smirk appears on his mouth. “Enjoying the view?”

“Not much of a view,” I reply with a sniff.

His smile widens. “We can make it one.” He reaches for his zipper. “It’s okay, Pamona. You can admit that you want to see my cock.”

I swallow hard. Lick my lips. Part them, in order to deny it, to tell him to leave. But the words die on my lips.

Because frankly, he’s seen me exposed. Explored my body. It seems only fair I should get to see his, too.

I don’t give him the satisfaction of actually answering, but he can see the curiosity on my face anyway. He undoes his zipper, pulls his jeans open. When he draws his cock out, I can’t help it—my eyes widen, and I lean a little closer, curiosity overwhelming my urge to seem unimpressed.

Because that’s a lie.

I didn’t think seeing his cock would turn me on so much, but it does. My belly clenches as I study his length, the long, thick shaft, the veins that run along the sides, the thick head that’s swollen with desire right now. I swallow sharply, imagining the way he would feel inside me, the way I would stretch and ache to fit him.

Would he even fit?

I shake my head. Stop thinking about it, Pamona. It’s never going to happen. Not with him.

But still. I can’t help enjoying the view.

“I told you, Pamona,” he says, drawing my attention back to his face. He’s studying mine, as if trying to read me. I wonder what he sees in my eyes. If mine are as cold as his icy blue ones seem now. “I’m not going to make you do anything. I won’t take you until you beg me to.”

It might be easier if you just took me, I think, before I bite my lip and force that thought away. At least if I was forced, I wouldn’t have any say in it. I could just dismiss these confusing feelings, the conflicting desires I’m feeling. But since it’s my choice…

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