Ginger Fox Part 4

" Jonathan... — I gasp between breaths when his fingers leave my lips, pulling the top of my nightgown down hard, until I hear the sound of the seams coming undone. My freed breasts bounce along with the beat, and feel good about this wickedness of his.
“Everything!” — Is all he says to me before pushing my upper body onto the table.
He makes me land with my forehead in what is left of the crushed cake. My face presses against the table, I lift my rear even more, letting him use me in every way he can desire, as I long for him to do. His hands hold my wrists, pulling them back, accelerating the pace of his thrusts, to the point that the table moves with each impact. I writhe inside, sucking him with my pussy with every inch that his cock fucks me. No barriers, skin to skin, nerves to nerves, limb to limb, which increases my arousal. I want to be fucked by this man with nothing in our way, and he, merciless, gives me what I desire. For every succubus there is an incubus[28], and Jonathan is my most evil and desired sexual demon. The only difference is that he doesn't come in my dreams, he is real, fucking my pussy with the same agility as a jackhammer. My teeth bite my lips, I hold back every scream that wants to emerge from my body, but I prefer to keep the sounds inside me. In one agile movement, I drag my body forward, closing my legs, which he had separated, which makes him release my wrists to try to adjust me. I arch my body forward, straighten it, and take advantage of that second to move, taking him out of me. I am already facing him, staring at him, when his face looks up at me. It is beautiful, terribly exotic and beautiful to see him in his total freedom with the light of the lamp. His breaths are ragged, his muscular chest rising and falling rapidly, his lips slightly parted, with the warm air coming out of them.
“Turn around!” He steps forward, putting his hand on my waist to move me, but my hands rise, palming his sweaty chest.
“No!” I let my voice come out clear enough for him to know that I won’t deprive myself of seeing his face even if he orders me to. “Not like this.”
Jonathan lowers his eyes to my fingers, staring at them, which move along with each breath he takes. He lifts his face back to me, giving me the cruelest look he must have kept inside him, as if he had never heard a “no” in his life.
“No?” It’s dangerous, almost lethal to want to play with him, but the game wasn’t made for just one. “No…” I whisper calmly to him, giving him a small smile.
I slip my other hand over one of my breasts, removing some of the chocolate syrup stuck to my skin. I lift my sticky finger to his face, sliding it slowly, tracing his lips and biting the corner of my mouth as I tease him. He opens his mouth, sucking my finger inside it, biting it hard enough to send a spike of pleasure through my body. The large hand holding my waist rises to my breast, rubbing it, caressing the chocolate-stained nipple. I am taken by surprise by his other strong hand, which firmly grips my hair, keeping my head in place. I don't want to look away or move away from his gaze. I fit my finger into Jonathan's lower jaw, like a hook that has just caught a big fish, slowly pulling it towards me. These lips are mine, his mouth belongs to me, and in an animalistic way I want to have it for myself as many times as I want. Jonathan doesn't open his mouth to expel my finger, nor does he try to pull away by pushing his head back. He comes, following my movements, as if he's curious to know where I'm going to take him. His hard cock throbs near my belly, scraping against the thin fabric of my nightgown. My arm only stops lowering when it's an inch away from my face. His blue irises shine bright and intense, making me aware of the danger I'm in, but that only makes me more excited. I open my mouth, releasing my tongue, scraping it across his chocolate-stained chin, just to taste his sweat mixed with the cake syrup. It's a sweet poison that enters my system, consuming me from the inside. Jonathan tightens his grip on my hair, pushing my head away. My fingers on his chest feel the force of his heart beating, as wildly as mine inside me.

Here's the translated text:
“What do you want, Gim?” The warm air of his breath passes over my face, making me inhale deeper just to smell him.
“Kiss me.” I am drowning in the stormy sea of his eyes, caught between euphoria, desire, fear, and the wait for his decision.
Jonathan pulls my curls hard until his fingers are pressed against my scalp. His mouth tightens, breathing heavily. I feel myself being pulled in every second that passes. Then my heart starts beating again after stopping for a moment when his mouth crushes mine with anger. My hands rise, holding his face between them, moaning with pleasure between his firm lips. His mouth is as delicious as I remembered; it's my downfall. Not even Freud could explain the pure chemistry that exists when my mouth collides with Jonathan’s. I am already being lifted by his hand, letting my legs circle his waist, holding me as tightly as I would be held by a lifebuoy. He growls loudly between our kisses, crushing his fingers into my ass, pulling another moan of pain and pleasure from me. It’s just a matter of him moving the cake tray aside, and my ass lands on the edge of the table, pushing me backward. I release his neck, taking one of my hands between us, guiding his cock inside my body, kissing him with lust, the same way my pussy swallows him.
Jonathan’s hands grip the end of the table as his arms stretch, forcing his hips to the last inch. With my legs wrapped around his waist, I lock my feet together to keep him exactly where he is. His lips devour mine, touching every corner of my mouth, dueling his tongue with mine. My chest swells as he starts moving, thrusting in and out. And that is my ruin. His hips crash hard against mine, taking me in every part between his thrusts and kisses. My hands roam freely over his back, touching every part I can reach, mapping out with touch every spot that, at this moment, is only mine. Jonathan bites my lips, sliding his tongue down my throat, returning to kiss my mouth brutally, throwing me into a blender, which he sets to the maximum speed, making me his favorite smoothie. He releases my mouth, seeking new paths on my skin, licking every chocolate-covered part, stopping only when he sucks on my breast, swallowing it in his mouth, feeding on the remnants of cake stuck to my skin. My nails release his back, moving my arm above my head. I grip the edge of the table tightly. Jonathan’s chest moves up, squeezing my breasts, one in each hand, and he continues to slam his hips fast and hard against mine. He fucks me without remorse, further condemning me to the delicious punishment of our bodies colliding. I open my eyes, focusing on his chocolate-stained face, completely devoid of his controlling demeanor, and nothing, absolutely nothing, can be more beautiful than Jonathan exactly as he is.
Fierce.
Fucking me with such madness that his blue eyes are filled with sparks. My mouth opens, pushing my breast up along with the upper part of my body, letting the energy destroy me from the inside out as the orgasm hits me. I soar high, as high as the other times he fucked me, but now I pull him along with me, contracting my muscles, sucking him with pressure, euphoric, moaning and calling his name. He withdraws hastily, squeezing his strong cock between his hand, stroking it quickly. Amid the haze of pleasure and despair, I can see the exact moment his eyes close, releasing his cum over me. The hot jets that splash on my skin leave a thick drop sliding down my nipple. His mouth, swollen from my kisses, is slightly open. He brings so much tension to his face until he gradually relaxes every line.
Is he an angel or a demon? I still don’t know. The only certainty I have is that the man fucks me damn well.
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