“A wrinkle?” I exclaim, turning toward the mirror over the sink to check. “No, I don’t, you dick.”
“Now you have two.” I can see his derisive brow lifting in the reflection. His hand wraps around my neck, thumb brushing my chin.
“Talk.” He sounds adamant.
My pulse kicks up a notch. Why one fucking word in that supercilious, presumptuous, maddening tone, and I feel the urge to tell him everything? Not a chance.
“Fuck you!” It turns my face to look straight into his eyes. This is us, isn’t it? We insult each other. Can’t stand one another. We fight, we hate-fuck.
“I will be doing that as soon as you talk to me, Art,” he growls my name finally.
I heard him on the phone the other morning, talking to Fly. His voice softened slightly. I want my name to come out of his mouth with that much care. His thumb is stroking my lower lip now. Green eyes darting between mine. Waiting for me to explain all these confusing feelings I have wrapped tightly together. When what I really want to say is,like me.It sounds like a plea inside my head. I’m two seconds away from saying it, but I tighten my lips because once that gets out, there’s no taking it back. The entirety of my childhood, I thought I was unlovable, so growing up, I promised myself never to get close to anyone, never to get hurt. If he rejects me, I feel like the damage would be so much worse than the physical wounds he could inflict on me. I can’t let that happen. I can’t.
So I state, “Nothing.”
“You have a knack for driving people crazy,” he huffs.
“Only you, pookie.” I force my lips to curl, wearing my careless mask.
That seems to anger him. His eyebrows bunch and his eyes darken. “You don’t need to pretend with me! Stop faking it, I fucking hate it.”
I gasp. Why is he doing this to me? He’s making me hope again.
“So fucking stubborn!” I hear him mutter before he hoists me on his shoulder.
The world goes upside down, reminding me of the day we met. But this time, I don’t fight it—on the contrary, I enjoy feeling his hand sliding up my thigh and over my ass cheek, his scent entering my nostrils and spreading in my lungs, the feel of his wide back against my front. His grunt of desire before he drops me on the bed.
The nightgown parts, showing him the see-through bodysuit. He swears under his breath and then comes down on me, sucking on my nipples through the flimsy fabric, pulling on my piercing, grabbing my ass, groaning as he feels the wetness near my hole. His incredible dick is stroking against mine, slow, hard thrusts that make me see stars. My shaft hardens so quickly that I go lightheaded. My hands are inside the back of his shirt, in his hair, on his jacket-clad biceps, anywhere I can touch him. He’s covering my body in marks with his tongue, lips, and teeth. I moan and moan, encouraging him to leave more. I need him to fill me up and then fuck my used hole until I’ll be able to feel him for days when I’m gone.
Joy and sorrow don’t stand at opposite ends. They can be felt together at once, and too deeply to ever recover. I want tobecome one with him today, even if the memory will hurt for years to come.
I spread my legs wider, then lace our hands, palm to back and push one of my fingers with one of his inside me. The pleasure of feeling us in me together brings tears to my eyes.
“You’re still sopping wet from my cum,” he growls with satisfaction. It makes me shiver all over as he takes control of our fingers and thrusts inside me, rough and firm. He pours some lube on my entrance and thumbs it in, getting me fuller, setting my insides on fire. I’m already so close, I’ve been on edge since I prepped myself. I grab the sheets in my fist, fucking myself on our fingers, almost feeling it. It’s right there…
He suddenly grabs my hip and slides our fingers free from my body. I cry out, feeling robbed of my bliss. I lift my head, eyes glaring, as he’s taking off his jacket. He drops it on the floor, his blue necktie goes next, then his shirt. That hairy chest makes me spring up and reach for his pants as I nuzzle his pecs and bite on his nipple. He hisses and pulls my head back, grabbing my hair.
“How sore do you want to be tomorrow?” he asks as I unbutton his pants. I pull his dick out, spitting on it and pumping the thick shaft with both hands.
“Want to feel it with every step I take.” I will carry the sting with me. I slide the nightgown off and lie down, my legs spread.
“I’ll feed you my dick until you are stuffed.” His hot promise makes me shiver all over.
“Please.” My voice cracks because I know this is it. I have to savor every second.
I spread my ass cheeks. “Do me raw.” I want to leave with his cum filling my insides.
“Fucking cum slut,” he tsks, grabbing the end of my body suit and tearing it with one tug, displaying my dick and ass.
He’s so strong and animalistic. I love it so much. He grabs something from his jacket and then, naked, he gets on the bed again, but instead of moving between my legs, he sits with his back to the headboard. “Ride my dick if you want me to nut inside you.”
Before I know it, I’m straddling one of his thick thighs. Lust has possessed my body, moving me like a puppet.
I study his angry-looking dick as I start humping his leg. The hair tickles my skin.
“Enjoying yourself?” he rasps, looking at my hips going. I lean back, hands on his knees as I keep rubbing my asshole and balls over his thigh.
“I’m calculating,” I whisper.