Page 92 of Arran's Obsession

My throat bobbed, and sweat broke out on my brow. My strange sense of pride was growing along with an increasing need for more. Whatever he wanted to give me.

Arran teased out the remote, no doubt coated in my juices, and I exhaled hard.

“The next is big. I need you wetter.”

Something flat and completely smooth landed on my mound. I squinted into my mask, trying to guess what it was. He tapped it, then it vibrated. Damn. His phone? My heart raced.

He drove it over my clit in several passes back and forth. I squirmed, unable to stop the rush of need from growing. Then he eased the wide edges down towards my opening.

I started. “You can’t put your phone inside me.”

“Don’t ever tell me what to do. From the moment you walked in here, you belonged to me. Don’t forget that.”

Arousal seeped down my thighs. My body responding to his possessive words. Damn him.

With the vibrations steadily pulsing into me, Arran angled the phone back and forth until he got the corners of it in. I breathed, pinned down by his actions. Scared and excited.

There was no way it could go deeper. It was too wide, too rigid.

Too fucking electrical to be safe, though hopefully waterproof.

But those vibrations had me rocking my hips subtly, chasing the good feeling they were generating. And I’d taken his knife. God, I was messed up.

Arran rumbled a sound of approval. “If you’re going to come, I need to feel it. Every time needs to be around my dick.”

I gave a tiny nod, and the phone left my core and moved back to my clit, the delicious thickness of Arran’s dick replacing it and plunging into me. I moaned, not hiding how wound up I was, how ready for him. Yet he didn’t budge, just holding still while the vibrations did their work with his phone flat to my clit. I focused on that and the stretch of him. I loved it so much.

A fast climax neared. I sucked in air.

“Fuck me, please,” I begged.

Nothing, then a slow thrust in and out that nearly broke my brain.

I needed more. I reached for him, but he stopped.

“Hands to yourself.”

“I want you to come as well,” I said in a rush. “You wanted me wet. Use both of us to do it.”

He didn’t answer, just holding the phone hard to my body, the effect delivered right into me. I squirmed. It was relentless, unstopping.

The orgasm hit, and I bucked up then dropped down on his soft sheets, the strength of it just as hard as the last and so good. Yet I wasn’t satisfied. It still felt like part of a buildup to something much bigger.

Without coming, Arran withdrew, uttering a growl.

I hadn’t even finished throbbing when a new item was thrust into me. So thick. Icy cold. Almost too big for me to take, yet I did, loosened by the aftershocks of my climax.

“What the fuck?” I moaned.

“Cucumber from the fridge. You’re so wet you could take anything now.”

I wanted to joke about how you can’t eat in everyone’s house, but my amusement had gone. Need had replaced it completely. I drove my heels into the bed, the iciness a strange sensation as it pulled in and out of me. Then Arran’s tongue landed on my clit. The heat of his mouth battled the cold inside, and a wave of emotion drowned me.

“Enough. I just want you,” I cried.

“One more.”

The vegetable went away, and my poor pussy throbbed, empty, and chilled, but not for long. A round, blunt-ended item ground into my core. Far too broad. Bigger than the cucumber. I blinked my eyes open under the mask.