Hold Me Harder

[KittyKris10]

The couch dips beneath us as he shifts his weight, laughter fading into something heavier, something electric. My legs twist against his as I try to push him off, but he’s relentless, pinning me back with ease. His strength is infuriating—and exhilarating. His hands find my shoulders, then my arms, holding me still as I writhe beneath him. My breath is already coming fast, my chest rising and falling as he leans closer, his face hovering just above mine. 

 

“You’re done,” he teases, voice a low hum of triumph. His smirk is infuriating, but I’m not about to let him win. “Is that all you’ve got?” I fire back, my voice breathy but defiant. Something flickers behind his gaze, dark and playful, and before I can react, his hand wraps around my throat, fingers curling with precision.

 

The warmth of his skin contrasts with the growing tension in the room, his thumb pressing lightly against the hollow of my throat—right over the *** spot where my pulse thrums beneath his grip. “You sure you want to say that?” His words are low, testing me. I meet his gaze head-on, eyes locked on his as I breathe against the pressure, challenging him without a word. My lips part, a breath slipping past them before I manage to answer. “You heard me.” A chuckle rumbles from his chest, and then his grip tightens.

 

My throat constricts beneath the pressure of his hand, cutting off my breath in measured increments. His thumb shifts slightly, pressing down just above my Adam’s apple, making the delicate structure beneath tremble. The next breath I try to take turns into a soft, stuttering gasp, the sound high and breathless. My body arches instinctively, muscles tense as I try to adjust to the sudden loss of air.
 

My hands fly up to his wrist, gripping him with trembling fingers, but I don’t push him away. Instead, I hold him there, nails grazing his skin as my body fights for oxygen. His thumb presses a little harder against the delicate rise in my throat, and my next attempt at a breath turns into a ragged, gurgling noise. He’s watching everything—the way my chest heaves, the way my lips part as I try to swallow against the pressure.

 

The sound of my ***d gasp echoes between us, muffled and strained, as I feel my pulse race beneath his hand. Then, he shifts. His free hand tangles in my hair, gripping firmly at the base of my scalp. He yanks my head back, forcing my neck to arch fully, the *** line of my throat on display for him. My chin tips upward, stretching as his hand tightens once more, pressing firmly against my windpipe. I gasp again, but the sound is barely there—a broken, wheezing cry.

 

“Still think you can handle this?” His voice is lower now, rougher, like he’s savoring the challenge. I try to speak, but his grip makes it impossible. My body writhes beneath him, chest rising and falling rapidly as I fight for any breath I can get. The sounds spilling from my throat are strained and desperate—whimpers and soft ***s, each one catching on the pressure he applies.
 

My eyes flutter shut for a moment, but I *** them open, meeting his gaze with something between defiance and surrender. He sees it—the way I’m trembling but refusing to give in—and his lips curl into a smirk. Just when I think I’ll fade, he releases me. Air floods my lungs in a rush, and I collapse forward slightly, coughing and gasping as my chest heaves. My hair clings to my damp skin, and I wipe my mouth, looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

 

“Is that it?” My voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but the challenge is still there. His response is immediate. His arm hooks around my waist, lifting me effortlessly off the couch. My legs kick for a moment, trying to find purchase, but he’s already carrying me toward the wall, his hand shifting to fully support my weight by my throat. My back hits the wall with a solid thud, knocking what little breath I have left out of me. The cool surface presses against me, contrasting sharply with the heat of his body pinning me in place. He lifts me higher, his grip tightening just enough to restrict my next breath completely. My toes dangle several inches off the ground, brushing uselessly against the air. The stretch of my neck is sharp, my chin tilting upward as the pressure builds.
 

His fingers dig into the sides of my throat, and his thumb presses down against the hollow just above my collarbone, where my Adam’s apple shifts under the strain. I gasp, the sound barely there, just a soft, desperate whimper escaping past my parted lips. My body squirms in response, legs twitching, fingers scrabbling at his wrist as I try to find relief from the crushing hold. But the more I struggle, the firmer his grip becomes, keeping me suspended like a rag doll pinned between his strength and the unrelenting wall.
 

He watches me intently, eyes dark as he takes in every sound, every tremble of my body. My breath stutters again, a strangled, wheezing noise as I try to inhale past the pressure. My tongue flicks briefly against my lips, wetting them as I fight to hold on. My vision blurs at the edges, and my chest heaves in short, broken bursts. But even through the haze, I refuse to look away. My gaze locks on his, determined and defiant, even as my lungs burn.
 

“Still not tapping out?” His voice is soft, almost amused, as he shifts his grip slightly, thumb brushing against my throat in a teasing motion. I make a small, breathy sound—a mix of defiance and desperation. My body trembles against him, legs twitching weakly as I cling to consciousness.

 

When he finally lets me go, I drop like a weight, landing in his arms before he gently lowers me to the floor. My back hits the cool hardwood, grounding me as I cough and gasp for air, the sudden rush of oxygen making my head spin. He doesn’t let go completely. His hand remains on my throat, fingers relaxed but firm enough to keep me pinned. I swallow hard, the motion trembling beneath his touch, and he feels every shift of my muscles. His thumb traces a slow, deliberate path along the rise of my Adam’s apple, pressing lightly as he ***s me to swallow again.
 

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” he murmurs, watching the way my throat quivers under his touch. I make a soft, broken whimper, my chest still heaving as I struggle to breathe normally. His fingers flex slightly, applying just enough pressure to make me gasp again, the sound high and ragged. My lips part, tongue flicking against the roof of my mouth as I *** softly beneath him.

 

“Still think you’ve got more in you?” His voice is teasing, but there’s a challenge beneath it. I try to answer, but my words dissolve into another breathless gasp as his thumb presses down again, making my throat convulse involuntarily. My body arches slightly, legs shifting as the sound of my stifled choking fills the space between us. My fingers tremble against his wrist, clinging to him as I ride the edge of breathlessness when his fingers finally find my panties.

 

I buck up as he rubs his fingertips against my now soaking wet underwear, teasing me through the cotton before he’s forcing them to the side and massaging my swollen clit to submission. The sound of my strangled moans is music to his ears, and it doesn’t take long until I’m cumming all over his hand with a pent up orgasm that has me thrusting and digging my heels into the carpet below me   

 

When he finally releases me, air floods my lungs once more, and I collapse fully against the floor, panting. His hand lingers for a moment, thumb brushing lightly over my throat as I regain my breath. My eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze, and I offer a weak, but triumphant smile.

 

“You good now?” His smirk returns, amused. I wipe my mouth, still catching my breath, and shake my head slightly.

“You tell me—was that your best shot?” He chuckles, leaning closer until his breath brushes against my skin. “You’re impossible.”
 

“Yeah,” I whisper, voice hoarse but playful. “But you like it.” He smiles, thumb flexing one last time against my throat before he leans back, letting me breathe fully again. “Maybe I do.”

[Deleted Member]

Such beautiful *** 🔥 😈 

[le****]

So vivid, the depiction of your passion lovemaking truly pushes how sensory and driven this story is in the mind. Moreover, I love how the playful banter between both spice up the roleplay, especially when you describe how his hand grips your throat😉.

[Deleted Member]

Kudos to her. Incredibly erotic and utterly terrifying for me. I’m not as brave or tough as the protagonesse (I think I just made up a new word!). And kudos to the writer. I was l, as mentioned, both terrified and captivated!!

[ShyTeddy]

🫣🤭🤭

[Mi****]

Sensational.

[Da****]

Very hot and sexy

[zo****]

Yum