Sami
Obsession can be fierce and fiery.
It can be terrific or terrifying.
Watching a man I just met spiral into an obsession for me is all the above. Partially because he is not alone in his obsession. I am right there with him.
“Yeah,” his raw, deep voice pants against my throat, “take it. Take it babydoll. Take it like my sweet slut,” his filthy praise, with those notes of degradation, makes me so hot I ought to be ashamed of myself.
Shepard calling me his slut, or his greedy cock tease only makes me hotter for him. Makes me so wet and achy that when we play, I become greedy to get him inside me to chase that ache away. Gone is the clueless virgin—I am a woman with wanton wiles.
Collapsing beneath him as my orgasm fires through me like a shot going off, I give way to the painful pleasure. The two always mix when he takes me, and I cannot get enough. He doesn’t stop pounding into me from behind, keeping me pinned down and angled to take his cum.
“Ah, fuck…yeah, that’s it. Suck up every drop in that baby maker.”
A smack to my ass sends a flash of excitement through me. He comes with a growl and a shudder, sending me into a second quake of an orgasm. His pleasure seems to trigger my own.
Shepard bends his big body over mine, peppering gentle kisses up my spine. We’re both slick with sweat, sticky from a morning of lovemaking. Once we started that day in the woods, we’ve barely stopped. My body aches in the most delicious ways. I am sated and spent but also starving.
When I can breathe and see right again, I push away from his big body, wanting to take a long shower. He snatches my wrist before I can get two steps away. Flicking an eye open, he tilts a look at me.
“Where you going babydoll?”
“To shower. Then maybe to town? Can we go grab something to eat? Is Stella’s still open? It was my favorite place for a big juicy burger.”
Shepard sits up in the bed, looking confused for a moment. My last summer here, I am sure the little diner was open. There must be some place to grab a good cheeseburger and greasy fries.
“Go to town? I can cook for us, Sami. You know I love to dote on you,” he insists with a sparkle in his dark eyes and that crooked smile.
God, he is perfect. Yeah, he dotes on me. While I was healing this past week, he has tended to my every need. From running a bath for me to soak in, fixing meals, rubbing my back when we lie in bed, and of course taking my virginity and giving me too many big Os to count.
“Yeah, to town. Driftwood. That adorable little place that exists outside of your cabin. I need to get my bike to a shop, I need to get some film, and I want to eat some bad food. Come on, pretty face. Take your girl to town.”
Until yesterday afternoon he had an excuse not to take me to get my bike fixed. With days of rainfall, most the road had been a mess. Some of his buddies had to come clear away the downed tree. He believed he needed those excuses to keep me here.
No need for an excuse to keep me here. I told his lumberjack friend Keller I was not going anywhere anytime soon, and I meant it. My plan had been to come up to my gran’s cabin to clear my head. I had not made it to her cabin, but my head is clear—and I don’t want to be anywhere else.
Shepard is an intense man. At least with me, he is. I don’t mind it, hell, I welcome it. It makes me feel adored and precious. There is nothing wrong with a little obsession. I am obsessed with him too. More so than I think he truly understands.
We talk dirty about babies and breeding, but I know it is more than hot coitus talk. I want his babies. I told him two or ten, I don’t care, and I meant it. I want to be tied to this man forever. Carry his babies and his last name if he wants, stole away in this adorable cabin with him, and take care of our family while I shoot the photos I want to.
He never wants me to leave—and I don’t ever want to.
Except I need to get my bike fixed and pick up some film. Being up here has me excited for my next project. I want to shoot a series of working-class photos to capture life in a small town. The waitress at the diner, a grocer stocking local produce, the lumberjacks at the landing, I want to capture all of it. I think it could be a beautiful and insightful look into how small towns keep working class traditions going.
“No need to go to town. Ridge will come take care of your bike, he is the mechanic in town and owes me a favor. I can pick up some film for you,” he trails off when I stand staring at him, making it clear I am not liking his answers.
Shepard sits up at the edge of the bed, his brow furrowing. I ignore how beautiful he is naked. His powerful thighs flex as he pushes to stand, coming towards him. His defined chest and ripped abs make my mouth water. I like to spend time licking the peaks and valleys of his body, but not today. Well, maybelatertoday.
When he reaches for me, I dart back. I love those hands on me. I become a pliant, panty mess when he puts them on me. I want them on me all the time and he gives me what I want, but I need to be strong. I need to get us out of this cabin and show him that we can go to town together because I will come back here with him.
I am not going to run away the moment I step foot out of his cabin.
“Pretty face,” I coo softly, reaching out to comb my fingers through his dark beard, “please take me to town. I am not wanting to escape you, I promise. I never want to escape you,” I whisper, moving to brush my nose against his fondly.
His soft growl as he reaches for me again makes my heart twist in my chest. Someone left him. Someone left him and made him feel like no one else would ever want to stay. I want to stay. I want to be with him for the rest of forever.
I love him and I believe he loves me.