Overruled

by Lana Ferguson

“Tell me this pussy is mine,” he rasps, snapping his hips forward so hard that a sharp cry escapes me despite my efforts. “I want to hear it.” “Ezra, fuck, I—” “Say”—his cock slides home roughly as I sizzle with delicious friction—“it.” “It’s yours,” I moan. “Fuck. Harder.” “Touch yourself.” His nails bite into the soft flesh of my thighs, and he picks up his pace until I have to reach behind me and grip the other edge of my desk to keep myself from scooting higher. “Please, Dani? I want to see you play with yourself. I want to feel you come hard.” I watch him through heavy-lidded eyes as I obey, slipping my fingers between my legs and circling the already-swollen bud of my clit as sparks of pleasure prickle inside. My mouth parts in a silent gasp, the onslaught of his cock and my hand pushing me so close to the edge that I can practically taste my orgasm. “That’s it,” he coos. “So perfect.” He bends his body, releasing my legs so I’m forced to wrap them around his waist. His hands brace on either side of me, leaning in close so that he can brush his lips against mine. “Now say that you’re mine.” My back bows as I tense up around him, shutting my eyes for only a second as that sweet pressure starts to crest. “I’m—” “That’s it,” he whispers, kissing me so gently that it feels impossible to reconcile with the still-furious pounding of his hips. “Tell me. Please.” “Ah.” My legs start to shake, my pussy trembling as my vision blurs. Ezra is still moving, prolonging the almost-...