He thrusts into me powerfully from below, finding a rhythm inside me that sends me halfway into orbit. My boobs bounce with every thrust. He digs his hands hard into my hips, and his eyes narrow. He grunts once, and then twice, plunging inside me without withdrawing. Through gritted teeth, he growls and moans.
The squelching between my legs gets louder and more intense. I smell the savory scent of our sex and feel a new wave of wetness spill out of me as he fucks me even harder.
The man is an animal. My animal.
All I can think of is cum, splashed against my insides. Against my walls, against my cervix.
My clit pulses, then flutters, with every gyration of my hips. I feel myself getting closer and closer. I plant my hands on either side of him, kiss him hard and deep.
My orgasm overtakes me from the inside out, a radiating shock of pleasure that makes me hold my breath until I think I might pass out.
God, I love this. This feeling. This rush. Being his.
I kiss him as I cum, so lost in him that the room is spinning. Until the only thing I know is his skin against mine.
He separates from the kiss first.
“Breathe, baby. Breathe.” His throaty voice is a balm against my ear.
Breathe. Baby. Breathe.
I collapse onto him, shivering and shuddering from pleasure and exertion. Now again, I feel myself coming back into control. My orgasm relents, like a wave pulling back from the shore.
He’s still hard inside me, rock-solid and erect. I straighten up a bit in his arms, placing one hand behind me and resting it on his thigh. I arch my back, feeling bold, tickling his balls with my hair behind my ass.
He runs his fingers down my collarbone, my chest, my belly.
And then all at once, with the expert movements of a real man, all power and strength, he rolls me over in bed. I land on my pillows with a cushy hush. And he never slips out from inside of me.
Instinctively, I let my legs fall back, knees bent, feet relaxed. He straightens my right leg by his hip, and then bends my left to get in deeper.
Deeper.
Deeper.
Until my eyes pound with the force of his cock inside me.
His expression is hungry. His eyes are possessive.
“You fucking belong to me, Lexie.”
Every muscle in my body agrees. But still, I want to show him some fire.
“Do I?” I whisper back.
And he nods. A done deal. Cocky and sure.
That cockiness, it’s too much to let it slide. I may be younger. I may be new at this. But I know I have power. And I’m damned well going to use it. So I lean in close to his ear, his stubble grazing my cheek.
“So then come for me again, Uncle Marshall. Come for me right now.”
My words make his body tense up. He grabs my hips, pinning me to the bed as he drives into me once, twice, once again. Balls deep now, so far in that it makes my eyes roll back.
“You first,” he grunts, rooting himself to my limits.
Over and over. Filling me. Stretching me. Consuming me until I’m in a blinding twist of intense bliss, his hand clamping over my mouth as my control snaps before his.
My twisting, bucking orgasm rages through me as I squeeze and beg Marshall to fill me. The sensation of his sticky seed spending inside of me is all I can think of, wrapped up in my blissful euphoria.
I squeeze my inner muscles as I ride out the crushing tide of pleasure. I open my eyes, looking down, seeing his pecs flex, and then he releases into me in a wave of pure passion. Pure desire. Pure lusty greed.
We rock against each other as our orgasms wind together. Taking us to the top of the rollercoaster, then plummeting us down in a sheer drop until our bodies are sticky with sweat and bodily fluids. Our hearts thump against each other until Marshall finally eases from inside me, works his way to the wall, flicks off the lights.
“Feel that?” He reaches down and slips two fingers between my legs. “All that’s proof of what I knew the first second I saw you. I’m claiming what’s mine. This sticky mix of my seed and your juice tells me all I need to know.”
We cuddle and doze for hours, until long after my parents have gone to bed. For the first time in my life, I’m deeply grateful for this huge house and its long hallways.
Once I’m sure the coast is clear, I slip out from under the covers and light the two scented candles on my dresser.
“As long as we whisper, they can’t hear us,” I tell Marshall, hoping he’s ready for more.
He pins his huge arms behind his head to prop himself up in my bed. It’s so delightful, seeing him here, this big beast of a brawny man, all wrapped up in my rose-pink sheets, resting on my lace-trimmed pillows.