He rocks with me, and I work my mouth over him, enjoying the tangy taste of his skin. I moan around his cock, loving what I’m doing, and he thickens even more. I remove one hand from his ass and cup his balls, gently massage them in my palm. His breathing is harsh now, labored, and it’s clear he’s fighting to do one of two things—pull from my mouth when it obviously feels so good, or come down my throat.
“That’s fucking good,” he murmurs, and I suck on his crown, and work my hand over his long length. A second later, I’m on my feet…and when my gaze meets dark, intense eyes, a man so close to losing it, I lower myself onto the bed, and open my legs for him.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says, and grips his cock. He works his hand over it for a moment, his eyes never leaving my sex. “You ready for me to fuck you, Quinn?”
He looks so carnal and possessive, I know I’m in over my
head, and for a brief second I think about running away. What is this man going to do to me?
I’m not sure, but I guess I’m about to find out.
“Yes,” I murmur, and move back on the bed, giving him room to climb on with me. My body is quivering, and my pussy is clenching just from watching him stroke his long, thick length.
“You want my cock in you, making you feel so fucking good?”
“I do.”
“Show me where you want it?” His gaze leaves mine, travels to the needy juncture between my legs. I touch my breasts, rub my nipples for a second, then move my hands to my sex. I open my damp lips, completely exposing my most private parts to him and shocking myself at how bold I am with this man.
“Right here,” I say as he opens his nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom. “I want your cock inside my pussy.”
His nostrils flare, every muscle in his body taut as he climbs on the bed, grabs my legs and widens them even more. He lightly strokes me, pushes a finger inside, and fucks me like that a few times.
I ride his finger, but it’s not enough. I want his cock.
“This sweet cunt,” he begins, “I want it so much, I just might ruin you.”
Breath leaves my lungs in a whoosh, his dirty words stroking me deeply. “Yes,” I whisper for lack of anything else.
“You need to be taken by me, Quinn?”
Without waiting for a response, he tears into the condom and quickly sheathes himself, then he falls over me, his mouth finding mine. I taste myself on his lips as his mouth eats at mine. His crown probes my opening, and I move my hips, trying to force him inside. His pushes my hands over my head, and holds them there with one of his as the other goes to my breast.
He brushes my nipple with his thumb as he powers into me, one quick thrust that pulls a cry of pleasure from my lungs.
He seats himself high, gives me a moment to adjust then moves his hips, driving in and out of me, a fast, maddening pace that shuts down my ability to think with any sort of clarity.
“Yes,” is all I can manage to say, and when he lets my hands go and grips my shoulders for better leverage, I put my hands on his damp back, take pleasure in his hard muscles as he fucks me…like a god.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he growls into my ear before he buries his face into the hollow of my throat, his tongue gliding over my skin.
Each thrust takes me higher and higher, and my hips come off the bed to grind against him, a shameless exhibit of need. Little electrical currents move through my body, center on my sex, and when his pubic bone connects with my clit, my muscles clench around his cock, an explosion of passion.
“Motherfucker,” he swears, as my hot release drips down my thighs and coats his balls. He pumps once, twice, then throws his head back and stills inside me. I hold him to me, and concentrate on each vibrating pulse.
When his body finally stops spasming, he collapses on top of me, and I wrap my legs around him, holding him to me, never wanting this night to end.
He lifts his head, cups my face and pushes my hair from my forehead. His eyes meet mine. “You good?” he asks, his voice so full of tender concern, I have to take a quick second to remind myself this is just sex. Two people scratching an itch.
“I’m good,” I say. “You?”
“Yeah.” He rolls off me and drags me with him, until I’m snuggled against his chest. After a long moment, he breaks the quiet. “Quinn?”
My heart races. Is this where he brushes me off, tells me to go back to my own room? The Body Checker’s moves are well known, and the truth is, I knew what I was getting into when I seduced him. Or rather, he seduced me. I’m not quite sure how that all went down. But the reality is, I know he has a revolving door, and women don’t sleep over. When I arrived this morning—was it only this morning?—whoever he was with the night before was long gone.
“Yeah?” I say, and make a move to go.