She yelps like a sexy fucking goddess when I pull her toward me so that she’s half hanging off the couch, her thighs propped on my shoulders, and her torso angled upward. I pull her even closer, bringing my face to her naked pink pussy, and take a deep breath.
I inhale her scent, letting it move through me, her tangy womb-laden smell moving through my body and telling my seed that she’s ripe and fertile and ready to be fucked into motherhood.
But there’s no damn way I’m rushing that part, not now, not when I can almost taste her sweet juices on my tongue.
“Keep rubbing your tits,” I snarl.
“Okay, okay,” she gasps.
I look up, over a belly that tells me she knows how to take care of herself and will do the same for our children, to make sure she’s doing as she’s told.
She grabs her breasts and pushes them together, causing her flesh to ripple and dance for me.
“Fuck,” I growl, and then I bring my mouth to her core in a predator’s kiss.
She gasps and writhes against me, and I grab her and hold her in place.
I’d die before I let this gorgeously pussy get away from me now.
I drag my tongue up and down her lips, making her shiver, and then I move to her clit. It’s red and engorged, she’s so needy for the pleasure. It feels hotter than the rest of her pussy, burning against my tongue. I move the tip of my tongue in circles around it, and then something snaps in me.
Control becomes impossible.
I eat her, consume her like a beast.
I open my mouth wide and press my upper lip against her clit and my lower lip against her hole, darting my tongue everywhere in between.
Her moans rise musically into the air.
She twitches against me, grinding her pussy against my mouth.
“That’s it,” I growl, moving my lips less than a hair’s breadth from her pussy. My lips grind against her as I speak. “Chase that fucking orgasm. Make that hole nice and creamy for me. Come, Juliana. Come like a good fucking girl.”
Her moans become strangled when I fuse my lips to her pussy again, eating her with even more ferocity, thinking of nothing but the taste of her, the texture of her full, swollen lips in my mouth.
I return to her clit, sucking on it, hard.
I suck it right into my mouth and then attack it with my tongue.
She wriggles even faster, starting to buck now.
There’s an explosion waiting deep inside of her.
I usher it out, licking her with even more speed, hungry to taste the flood of cream I know is going to gush out at any moment.
“I’m—fuck—Jett—”
I move my hands from her thighs to her ass, grabbing her flesh in big handfuls as I feast myself on her pussy.
Her body pulses and her hole flutters against my lips as the orgasm shatters through her. I look up over the mound of her pussy, captivated by the way she grabs her breasts as she releases, turning parts of her flesh red with her tight grip, so lost in her orgasm.
I’m rewarded with the juices my body desperately needs, squirting come moving over my tongue and around my lips.
She’s so tangy, so wonderfully fucking ripe.
I could spend hours just smelling all the different scents of her pussy, all the different scents of her.
Finally, her bucking stops and she collapses back, her hands falling to the side.
She draws in big breaths, her chest rising and falling frantically.
I stand up and loom over her, my cock fit for bursting now, ready to explode at any second.
“Now, is that cunt good and ready?” I growl.
Something flares across her face, almost like she’s in pain.
“I don’t—oh, Jett.”
“What?” I demand. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s … I want to.”
“What’s wrong?” I say, firmly.
She stares at me for a moment, but then seems to grow weak, and turns her face away.
“I’m a virgin,” she murmurs.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Juliana
I go on in a rush, “I want to do it. I really do. But I don’t know if I’m ready—for that. Tonight has been so crazy and, oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Jett. I’ll do it. If you want me to. Forget what I said. I don’t need to be ready. I’ll—”
“Quiet,” he growls, every part of him pulsating as if there’s a bomb inside of him ready to detonate at any moment. “Get on your knees now. I’m not talking about this until I’ve covered those tits of yours in my come. Hurry up, Juliana. Do what you’re told.”
I gasp at the fierceness of his words, at the way his gaze burns into me.
I have no idea how he feels about my virginity.
Right now, everything inside of him seems aimed at my breasts, as if nothing else exists.
The after-tremors of the orgasm are still tickling through me, making my insides warm and hungry.
Deep inside, a part of me I’ve never felt before is throbbing over and over, screaming at me to stop being stupid, to take this silver-haired giant’s dick right now, to let him spill a river of his seed inside of me so that we can make wonderful babies together.
But reason tells me that I wouldn’t be able to go through with it tonight.
I’ve had a mental block about it for so many years and, as the years wore on, it just got worse and worse.
“Juliana,” Jett snarls.
“Oh, sorry,” I gasp, sliding to the plush rug on the floor, softening the weight on my knees.
I stare up at him, biting my lip as a combination of tingling lust and nerves dance through me.
“Push those tits together. When I come on them, start massaging my come over them right away, understand? I want to still be creaming when you’re rubbing it in for me, like the horny fucking thing you are.”
“Okay, okay,” I moan. “I’ll do it, Jett.”
He smirks, his intense eyes glinting for a second.
“I fucking know you will.”
He pulls down his trousers and the biggest cock in the universe explodes out of his underwear.
Obviously, I don’t have much experience. But it’s absolutely huge, at least eleven inches, a forearm-sized thick venous weapon of a cock.
He’s so hard, his veins engorged against the skin of his dick. He walks closer to me, his trousers falling down to his knees, his boxers wedged under his balls.
“Moan like a slut,” he says. “But know,” he adds a beat later, “that you’re my slut, and mine alone. Nobody else, nobody, will ever see you like this, on your knees and ready to take a shower of my come. Do you understand? Do you fucking understand?”
“Y-yes,” I whimper, stunned at the animal ferocity in his voice.
Why does he care if anybody else sees?
Why is he getting so possessive all of a sudden?
Not that I’m complaining.
“Good,” he growls. “Now rub those tits and arch that back.”
I move my hands over my breasts, my nipples still sore and needy. It feels so perfect to grind my palms over my nipples, to feel how hard they are against my palm.
I moan as I rub, like he told me to, his words ricocheting around in my mind.
Nobody else.
Just him.
Jett grabs his cock and starts to pump his hand, staring down at me. An explosion could tear through the upstairs and I don’t think he’d care.
A big dollop of precome clings to his enraged helm, and as he strokes it makes his whole length glistening, wet fleshy noises filling the air the more he pumps, combining with my shivering moans.
We go on like this for a beautifully long time, my nipples getting even more sensitive, tingles shivering across them.
Then Jett’s growls of pleasure become deeper, throttled in the back of his throat.
He groans and a fire-hot jet of come splats across my breasts. I remember what he said, and start massaging it into my skin, moving faster as more and more com
e smooths hotly across my skin.
Jett lets out a feral growl as he stares down at me, his face tight, his whole body quaking as an impossible amount of come steams over my breasts.
Finally, he takes a stumbling step back, his cock slowly wilting, his breath coming raggedly.
“Clean your tits,” he breathes. “Now.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to try something. Now be a good virgin and clean those big round tits.”
He says big and round like it’s a good thing like I don’t need to be teased or humiliated about it.
Big, big, big, I sing the word in my mind, still finding it difficult to believe that this man is going this crazy over me.
But he is.
The evidence is smeared all over my breasts.
I grab the ragged ruins of my trousers and quickly mop away his come, tossing the desire-wet fabric back to the floor when I’m done.
“Good,” he growls, as he pulls his pants back up.
He pounces on me and lifts me up, hooking one arm under my knees and bracing my back with the other.
I giggle in disbelief as, suddenly, I’m flying. Just like when he carried me to the couch before, it feels impossible, how light and carefree I feel in his arms.
He brings his mouth down to my breasts and sucks on my nipples, first one and then the other, sucking harder with each alternation.
Oh, fuck.
This is weird, gorgeously, wonderfully weird.
The pleasure hums around my nipples and then moves deeper to my belly, swirling around me, my nipples getting sore, and then—
“Fuck,” I gasp. “Oh my God. Please. Don’t. Stop.”
I don’t know how it happens – I didn’t even know this was possible – but suddenly the fireworks in my breasts are down in my core, too. The euphoria combines and Jett growls through the sucking as if to say, Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.
I squeeze tighter onto his shoulders, gasping as each pulsation of ecstasy moves through me, as if in time with my heartbeat.
I shiver and writhe in his grip.
Jett sucks my nipples harder and then opens his mouth and bites softly down on my breast, moving his tongue in magic circles around my nipple.
“Oh—oh—oh,” I gasp, as the orgasm punches me with hands of lava again and again.
“I knew it,” Jett snarls once it’s passed, standing to his full height with me still cradled against his chest, making me feel impossibly small and delicate. “I just knew you were getting close to another orgasm. For a virgin, Juliana, you’re one sex-hungry girl, aren’t you?”
“Is that a bad thing?” I whisper.
“No,” he growls. “As long as you never – ever – under any fucking circumstances, behave that way with another man.”
Never?
“I don’t think I understand,” I whisper. “Do you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend?”
He chuckles grimly and lays me on the couch with surprising softness.
“Boyfriend and girlfriend?” he says, stroking a hand across my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, tickling. “That doesn’t do it justice, Juliana. But first, let me find you some clothes. You’re too damn distracting when you’re naked.”
CHAPTER NINE
Jett
The clothes are only a small improvement over her nakedness. She’s wearing one of my black T-shirts as a dress, so baggy it hangs right down to her thighs, and she’s also got some of my oversized boxers on as makeshift shorts.
She laughed when she emerged from the bedroom, Rebel in her arms, but there’s nothing funny about it to me.
In those baggy clothes – the fabric settling against her pert nipples like an outlining mist – it’s all too easy to imagine her naked still.
She sits on the couch, stroking Rebel in her lap. I sit in the armchair, my coffee clutched in my hand.
Her hot cocoa sends steam into the air from the coffee table.
“I can’t believe I can wear this as a dress,” she murmurs, as Rebel burrows herself into the fabric.
“Why?” I say, narrowing my eyes at her.
She tilts her head at me as if to say, You know why.
But I’ve got no idea what the hell she’s talking about. My main focus right now is quieting the beast inside of me so that I don’t maul her in front of her dog.
“So are we going to talk about this?” she asks.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I growl savagely, leaning forward to stare into her eyes.
Fear flickers across the verdant landscape of her irises, flashing, glinting, and I wonder if its fear of me or of the situation in general, or some other, unknown fear.
Surely she knows she doesn’t need to fear me.
Surely she knows I’d die and kill and everything in between before I let anything happen to her.
“It’s like this, Juliana,” I go on, keeping my voice firm.
Because then maybe I don’t have to confront how insane this is.
All my life, I’ve never taken much interest in women.
I’ve never felt it, anything.
I’ve drifted through life as a killer in the shadows, always focused on my work and nothing else, and now she’s waking me up in ways I couldn’t have comprehended before.
“The second I laid eyes on you, the second I caught you, I knew that you were destined to be my woman. You can put any fucking label on it you want. Girlfriend, partner. I don’t give a damn. All I know is that you belong to me now. Your ass, your tits, your cunt, your smile, your eyes, your sass, your charm, and your shyness and your bravery, all the little pieces that make you, you, they’re mine. I knew that the moment I saw you.”
She’s staring at me, frozen, her mouth hanging open as though she’s trying to figure out if I’m playing some kind of a trick on her.
She’s twenty-one and naïve and maybe she thinks I’d stoop to playing her like that.
She doesn’t yet understand the brutal things I’d do to anybody who tried to play her.
“This is what’s going to happen. When you’re ready to take my dick in that virgin cunt, I’m going to take you like you deserve to be taken. I’m going to take you, hard, as my personal slut. My personal slut. To every other man alive, you’re going to be nothing. You’re going to be chaste and well-behaved. But with me, you’ll do whatever I want you to.
“You’re going to be the mother of my children.”
She gasps, which is a bad idea. It sounds so much like the noises she makes when I pleasure her, the lust-infused sounds when I drag my tongue across the soaked surface of her pussy.
“R-really?” she whimpers.
“What’s the matter?” I smirk. “Lost your sass all of a sudden?”
“Do you mean it?” she says, looking at me steadily. “This isn’t some twisted joke?”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like this,” I say firmly. “No, Juliana. This is true. This is fate. This is everything to me. I’m going to be your first and only man. Do you have any idea how happy I was when you said you were a virgin?”
“I thought you’d be mad,” she whispers. “I thought you wanted—somebody experienced, somebody like you.”
“I want you,” I snap. “Nobody else, not now and not ever. It’s me and you until the day we die. That’s it. I’m claiming you the same way a predator claims his mate in the wild. No, the same way a predator claims his prey.
“I could bend you over the kitchen counter and fuck your pussy raw right now if I wanted to. I could fuck you until your lips tore and you were begging for more, even though it hurt you, even though you weren’t ready. You’d beg because a river of your thick white tasty come would be streaming down my dick. It’s a courtesy that I’m letting you wait until you’re ready, nothing more. Make no mistake, Juliana. You’re mine now.”
She makes another mind-fucking whimpering noise, squeezing her legs together. I have to bite down to stop myself from letting out a carnal roar.
“So,” I say, smirking away the fire inside me. Or trying to, at least. “Any thoughts?”
I take a sip of my coffee, black and bitter, and sit back to stop myself from lunging toward her.
“Any … thoughts,” she murmurs, and then a cute smile breaks across her face. “Well, yeah, loads of thoughts.”
I can’t help but chuckle, she’s so starry-eyed and fertile-looking.
Every inch of her screams, Impregnate me. Put a baby inside of me. Make sure a piece of us lives until the end of time.
“I feel the same,” she whispers, her eyes flitting to the steam of her hot cocoa, tracing it in the air as though it’s easier than meeting my gaze. “I’ve been having the same kinds of thoughts, about having babies together, about … belonging together. But I thought I was just being a silly naïve girl. I didn’t think my dreams could actually come true. We don’t even know each other.”
“You know more about me than anybody ever has,” I tell her. “You’ve seen parts of me I’ve never shown anyone else.”
“What does that mean?” she asks, tilting her head at me inquisitively.
I toss my coffee back and avert my gaze, almost feeling something like self-consciousness. It’s different for men and women. And yet it’s not like I’ve never had the chance. I’ve just never wanted to.
I hate the way women throw themselves at me, ready to do any depraved thing they think I want, calling themselves empowered when in reality they’re just acting like disposable sex accessories.
Or maybe that’s unfair.
Maybe it’s just that none of them were her, my Juliana, my woman.
“Jett?” she presses.
I shrug.
“I’m a virgin, too,” I tell her.
“What?” she gasps and then lets out a strange, strangled laugh. “Okay, now I know you’re joking.”
“Nope,” I say.
“Do you realize how little sense that makes?” she says, gaping at me. “I mean, have you ever looked in the mirror? A man like you – tall, strong, handsome, fierce – you could have any woman you want.”
“But don’t you see?” I say. “I’ve never wanted any other woman. I won’t lie to you. I’ve had my fair share of chances over the years. But it never felt right. I never wanted to just fuck for the sake of it. When I grind up inside of you, Juliana, it will be to put a baby inside of you.”
Saved By The Hitman: An Instalove Possessive Age Gap Romance Page 5
