It jumps to semi-erectness at my first stroke. I had it in me last night, but the size still gets me all hot and tingly whenever I study it.
“What are you doing, Princess?” Kyle stares at me with fiery lust.
“Just keep driving,” I murmur as I lower my head and take him down my throat as far as I can. He’s too big for me to have him all in, so I make up for that by stroking his balls.
Kyle groans, eyes momentarily closing before he focuses back on the road. His hand tightens on the wheel as the other gets lost in my hair. “Fuck, Princess. Your mouth feels like sin.”
His words get me working harder, teasing his balls and bobbing my head up and down at the speed he prefers. I may have been a newbie that first time I gave him a blowjob, but I have learned to adapt to his rhythm. Kyle likes rough and fast, even when it comes to blowjobs. He gets off on the endless flow of movement and has converted me to the dark side with him. Or maybe it’s been there all along, and he just yanked it out.
With every second, he grows bigger in my mouth, and I’m sure he’s close to the finish line. I increase my speed, even though my jaw hurts from his size.
Kyle pulls me back by the hair, making me release him, a streak of precum sticking to my lips.
“But…why…” I pant.
“First of all, I can’t drive like this.” It isn’t until then that I realize the car has stopped on some unknown, deserted road. “Second of all, I love your mouth, but I’m not coming inside it today.”
He jumps me—literally. One moment, he’s sitting; the next, he’s on top of me, fumbling with my seat so it falls backward. I squeal, hands pressing against his chest, but the sound is stolen when he captures my lips in an animalistic kiss.
There’s nothing gentle about his touch right now. Not when he kisses me, sucking and nibbling on my lips like he’s drunk on the taste, and certainly not when he yanks my dress up and then my panties down. His fingernails dig into my skin with a tangible urgency while he fuses his body with mine.
He’s like a beast with nothing in his sights but me.
I could cry with gratitude.
If he treated me differently, as if I were a broken doll, it would hurt so much. I would think he no longer wanted me, that what I experienced today made him hate me.
But that seems far from the case now when he kisses me with so much wildness I can’t keep up. It’s like he’s sucking at my life essence and giving me his in return.
He lowers his hand down my body until he grabs the globes of my ass. “I’m going to own this soon, baby. You better be ready for that.”
I don’t know if it’s his words or the strange rush of arousal, but a tinge of impatience grabs hold of me. I want him inside me. Anywhere would do, even if it hurts—especially if it hurts.
His cock nudges against my entrance and I spread my leg wide, locking my ankles around his waist as he slams inside me with one brutal thrust. I cry out, flattening myself against the hard ridges of his muscled chest.
“Fuck, Princess.” He strains at how my inner wall tighten around his length.
I gasp for air, and he only leaves me a second to breathe before he claims my lips again. That’s the only second he allows me to adjust to his size, too—not that I need it. Yes, it hurts, but I want to hurt right now because that means I’m alive, it means I survived and Kyle is right here with me.
His tongue dances against mine as he thrusts into me hard and fast, his hips jerking with the motion. The seat creaks with the force of his hips. If someone passed by, they’d think a war was going on in here, and that might as well be the truth.
We’re both fighters in this war, and at this moment, we only have each other.
I kiss him with renewed energy, pushing my hips up when he rams down. My arms wind around his neck and his hand grips me by the throat.
Surprisingly—or not really—that’s all it takes to push me over the edge. I come with a gasp, my legs trembling around his waist.
Kyle joins soon after, cursing in what I now recognize as a Northern Irish accent. I find it strangely erotic that he switches to his original accent when he’s this turned on. It’s like he can’t think straight enough to switch accents, and I like being the cause of that.
Both his hands rest on either side of my head to not crush me, even though his head lies on my shoulder.