She bit me again. Harder.
I kissed her back like I’d been dying for it.
Deep. Thorough, my tongue sliding against hers in slow, deliberate strokes that made her whimper into my mouth.
She shifted, swinging one leg over to straddle my lap, thighs clamping tight around my hips as she settled down onto me. My tongue slid against hers, each warm, wet drag pulling a broken whimper from her throat straight into my mouth. I gripped her hip hard enough to bruise, fingers digging in, pulling her down and grinding her clothing-covered cunt along the full, throbbing length of my cock—every rigid inch—so she knew exactly how badly I wanted to ruin her. She rocked once—desperate, needy—and I growled against her lips, teeth catching the swollen flesh as the heat between us turned feral.
I broke the kiss, breathing hard, my forehead resting against hers.
“Tell me to stop.”
She shook her head, her eyes glassy with arousal, dark; her lips swollen.
“Don’t.”
I searched her face one last time for doubt, for hesitation, any sign that this was grief talking and not her.
All I found was her, looking back at me. Waiting. Wanting.
I flipped us.
Her back hit the couch; she let out a soft gasp, her hair spreading across the cushion. I came down over her, bracing on one forearm beside her head, my other hand sliding beneath her shirt and spreading flat across the warm, bare skin of her stomach.
Her breath caught as I held her gaze; my hand moved higher, slow and deliberate, giving her time to stop me.
My thumb grazed the underside of her breast, then higher—over the stiff peak of her nipple through thin fabric. I pressed hard, circled with deliberate pressure, pinching and rolling the swollen bud until it throbbed under my touch. Her breath hitched sharply, hips jerking involuntarily against my cock.
She arched into my hand with a broken, needy moan that shot straight through me, my cock twitching hard against her cunt.
I pressed my open mouth to the side of her throat—hot, wet, sucking hard enough to leave marks as my teeth scraped over her racing pulse. I shoved her shirt up. Pale skin. Black lace. I pulled the cups of her bra down; her large breasts spilled free. The contrast of skin and lace alone nearly undid me. I dragged my lips and tongue down her neck and slid down her chest, mouth open, greedy.
Tasting salt and heat as I focused on her stiff nipple, closed my mouth over her, and sucked hard—wet, greedy, pulling the stiff peak deep between my lips while my tongue lashed it relentlessly. I continued until she cried out, sharp and broken, the swollen bud throbbing against my tongue.
I moved my attention to the other, giving it the samebrutal treatment—sucking deep and rough, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before I bit down just enough to make her gasp, then soothed it with slow circles of my tongue. Her nipples were tight, glistening, hypersensitive, and begging—every hard pull of my mouth sending jolts straight to her cunt while she writhed and bucked beneath me, hips lifting off the couch in frantic little thrusts she couldn’t control.
My hand slid down her stomach, fingers hooking under the waistband of her leggings before pushing lower—cupping her soaked cunt through thin fabric. Drenched, slick heat pulsing against my palm like her pussy was begging to be filled.
My cock throbbed against my zipper, leaking, and I clenched my jaw, eyes closing for a second—fighting the urge to rip everything off and bury myself balls-deep inside her.
I pressed the heel of my hand hard against her swollen clit, grinding down in slow, filthy circles, rubbing her through the soaked material until she coated my fingers. While I worked her cunt, I kissed my way back up—tongue sliding over slick, abused nipples—until I claimed her mouth again.
She kissed me back as if she’d die without it, desperate. Tongues fucking each other as she rocked her pussy harder against my grinding palm, whimpering into my mouth with every rough stroke over her throbbing clit.
I slipped my hand into the band of her panties. My fingers slid through slick, swollen folds—hot and drenched and so fucking ready that my vision blurred for a second.
I found her entrance and pushed one finger inside, slow, feeling her clench around me immediately, tight and pulsing, her body pulling me in.
“Callan—” Her voice broke.
I added a second finger, sliding them deep into her soaked cunt, curled them forward hard—finding that swollen, soft spot and pressing mercilessly.
Her hips bucked violently off the couch as a raw, guttural moan tore from her throat, loud and shameless, echoing through the room while her pussy clenched greedily around my fingers.
I fucked her with my hand in steady, deep strokes, pulling almost out before slamming back in, curling and rubbing that sensitive spot on every thrust until she coated my palm and dripped down my wrist. My thumb stayed relentless on her swollen clit, working it in tight, fast circles, feeling the throb and swell under the pressure as her inner walls fluttered and squeezed.
“Look at me,” I growled against her ear, voice rough with lust.
Her eyes fluttered open—wide, glassy, pupils glazed with arousal, tears still clinging to her lashes as she stared at me, lips parted on broken moans while her dripping cunt fucked itself desperately on my fingers.