BIG BAD BOY (Big Men Series Book 1)

by Penny Wylder

I keep my mouth where it is, and slide my hand out from under her ass, up between her pussy lips to press one finger inside her, my middle finger, all the way up to the knuckle. She’s so fucking wet and tight I’m tempted to abandon this third orgasm just so I can feel that delicious velvet against my aching cock. But a gentleman always keeps his promises, so I keep it there and start to thrust inside her, a slow, steady rhythm that builds as she starts to catch her breath, at least enough to rock against me in time with my thrusts.

  She releases one hand from my hair, drops it to grab a fistful of sheets instead, and keeps the other stroking through my hair, as she arches up to look down at me. “Fucking… hell, Gil…” Her eyes are glassy, but she makes herself focus on me through the sensation, as I continue to thrust my finger inside her tight little pussy. “I’ve never… come twice in a row… like that.”

  “I promised you three,” is all I say, a single eyebrow lifted.

  Her eyes go wide, and I take that moment to thrust a second finger, my index, inside her as well. Her pussy stretches to accommodate me, while at the same time she tightens around me, adjusting to the girth of both my fingers. A little gasp of surprise escapes her mouth, and she sinks back against the bed. “Fuck…” She draws out the word as her eyes roll back in her head.

  “Your wish is my command,” I reply, with a smirk, and start to slide my fingers faster. They move inside her easily—she’s so fucking wet for me, it’s unreal. I’d never tire of this pussy of hers. Then I dip down to lick her clit once more, while still keeping my fingers moving inside her. Eventually, I curl my fingers upward in a come-hither motion, and drag them down her front wall, feeling the little sensitive, bumpy circle of her G-spot as I do. At the same time, I lick her harder, faster. Keep her clit on fire from two angles at once.

  In no time at all, Jenna’s hand is pushing on my head, making sure I keep up the steady rhythm that’s driving her crazy. “Yes, yes, yes,” she intones, her voice driving higher and higher. I love how she’s leading me. Insisting on her pleasure. Using me. Suddenly Jenna lets out a scream of ecstasy, and her pussy convulses around my fingers, tightening like a fist then releasing again, as her whole body shakes. Her fingers roughly grab at my hair, my I keep my face planted against her sweet pussy, lapping up every bit of delicious juice that’s leaking from her.

  I draw back then, my beard soaked with her juices, and slide my fingers from inside her. They slip out with a faint pop, and I kiss my way back up her hips, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, until I reach her mouth. I lean in and kiss her, hard, swirling my tongue across hers so she tastes herself on my lips, in my mouth.

  When I pull back, she’s staring at me with a mixture of awe and want.

  “What was that you said?” I ask. “About not being able to have multiple—”

  I break off, because at that moment, Jenna grabs my wrist and drags my hand to her face. Eyes still locked on mine, she slides both my fingers, the ones that were just inside her, still warm from her, into her mouth. She swirls her tongue around them like an expert, licks off each one, until they’re clean, and slips them back out of her mouth, her lips tight around them in a promise of what she’s capable of doing to my cock.

  I laugh a little, but I’m also feeling every inch of that hot stare of hers in my throbbing cock, aching like fuck to be inside her already. “I can’t wait to see that mouth of yours in action,” I say.

  She reaches down between us to grip my cock through the fabric of my jeans. “Well, it’s my turn now.”

  “Mm.” I catch her wrist and raise her hand. Pin it over her head instead. “Not until I say so. And right now, I think I promised you a different order of plans for the night.”

  Her throat bobs as she swallows. “I believe you promised to fuck me all night. Is that what comes next?”

  “Besides you? Yes,” I say, with a smirk. Then I catch her other hand too, and raise it up, gripping both her wrists in one of my hands as I reach down with the other to undo the clasp of my own jeans. I wriggle out of them, and push my boxers down next, and watch her eyes go wide as she takes in the sight of me.

  “Fuck, Gil. You’re huge.” She stares at my cock, all wide-eyed. To be fair, it is on the XL side of the condom sizing spectrum, and far thicker than average to boot. At the moment, as I lie beside her, it stretches all the way up from her thigh to her belly. She leans her hips up, until the soft skin of her belly grazes along the underside of my cock, and it jumps between us, eager for action. I lift my hips, dragging my cock a bit on her soft skin, dying to finally feel the real thing.

  That draws a grin out of her. “Hungry?” she asks, one eyebrow raised.

  “For you? Fucking starving,” I say. I position myself between her thighs, enjoying the sight of her laid out before me, her hands still pinned over her head, her tight little body squirming beneath me.

  I love that. The size difference, my huge body and her tiny one. It makes me want to claim her even more, to feel her tight little pussy stretch around me, hear her scream again, the way she did with my tongue on her clit.

  I release her hands to reach for my side table, where I keep the condoms, but she catches my wrist, eyes on mine.

  “It’s okay,” she says. “I’m, uh… I’m on the pill, so… if you’re clean.”

  “As a whistle.” I let my hand fall. Good. I never like the feel of condoms anyway. Too much in the way. I like to feel every inch of a woman, fuck her raw, the way humans were meant to.

  Her hands free now, she reaches down to catch my cock between her palms. I suck in a startled breath through my clenched teeth. Her skin is warm, and oh so smooth. She starts to stroke her hands along my length, slowly, from base to tip, her fingers exploring every inch of me. It takes both her hands to get around my cock, but she doesn’t let that slow her down. She flicks a thumb across my tip, the ultra-sensitive spot sending a shock of electricity through me. She uses the drop of precum that’s gathered there to slide around the crown, slowly. Torturing me.

  I grit my teeth and I let her stroke me. Watching her eyes widen as my cock gets harder, as the veins bulge and the head darkens. She strokes me like this until I can’t stand it anymore, until I can’t wait any longer to finish what we’ve started. Then I catch her wrists, pin them above her head once more, and position myself between her thighs, kneeling over her.

  “Do you like it rough, Jenna?” I ask her, gaze steady as I watch her reaction.

  She smiles, expression all challenge. “Fuck me as hard as you can, bad boy.”

  I smirk and reach for her hips with both hands now. “I hope you didn’t plan on walking straight tomorrow,” I say, and with that, I position my tip at her entrance. There’s a bead of precum on the tip, and she’s already soaked again, wet all over once more with desire. I press the tip of my cock against her entrance, and slowly, slowly, I ease into her.

  She lets out a long, low moan, as I slide my cock inside her wet pussy, inch by inch. Her walls swell to accommodate my shaft, her muscles clamping tight around me as they adjust to my girth. I’m careful to take it slow, not thrust in all at once, not yet. I rock my hips forward in a gentle glide, deeper and deeper into her, as Jenna twists across my bed sheets. I can barely breathe; she feels so exquisite, so tight.

  Finally, I push the rest of the way in, fully inside her, and lean down along her for a moment, just buried there, as I kiss her neck, her jawline, her full, luscious mouth. Those lips of hers part for me, and it feels so impossibly fucking good to hold myself like that a moment, her pussy clamped around my dick and her mouth working against mine.

  Then I draw back from the kiss, and start to rock my hips backward. “Rough, you say,” I murmur.

  “Hard as you can,” she corrects, one eyebrow raised.

  I pull all the way back out, and thrust inside her again, faster this time. She gasps and arches, but wraps her arms around my shoulders too, hard nails digging into my back, hard. She’s gonna leave marks. I don’t care. I fucking love when a girl i
sn’t afraid to make her presence known.

  I find a rhythm, start to fuck her faster now, our hips smacking together with each thrust, my balls slapping against her pussy lips. She moves with me, thrusts her hips up into mine, arches them back to let me slide deeper into her pussy, until I almost feel the tip of my cock brush against her end with each drive.

  Then, without warning, I grab her ass and lift her in my arms, off the bed. She cries out and wraps her legs around my waist, hands tightening on my shoulders.

  “What the…” she starts, but doesn’t finish.

  I spin to push her up against the wall, and fuck her like that, standing, driving my cock up inside her as her shoulders dig into the wall, and her spine arches toward me, to give me the right angle. I keep one hand gripping her ass, the other planted against the wall beside her ribcage for purchase, as I thrust into her again and again.

  Her pussy feels so fucking tight around me, like a glove, the perfect fucking fit. I lose track of time, of the world around us.

  There’s only Jenna. Only tonight, only this fuck. And goddamn, it’s the best I’ve had in a long fucking time.

  Maybe ever.

  I don’t think about that now. I just focus on her, on the little cries of pleasure she’s emitting, and the tightening at the base of my cock that tells me I’m getting close.

  “Come for me, Jenna,” I tell her. “I want you to come one last time.”

  Her face strains, as she arches her body backward, her hips forward.

  I arc too, making sure my cock drags down her inner front wall, over that bumpy little G-spot I found earlier with my fingers. I fuck her harder, then, right across that, driving fully into her each time, until we’re both breathing hard, and every other breath I let out a growl of desire.

  She screams again, mouth open, eyes half-closed, lost in the orgasm that’s hitting her. The moment her pussy starts to clench around me, convulsing with the force of her pleasure, I lose it too.

  I thrust into her one last time, completely inside, and I come with another growl. I keep my hips moving, keep pumping into her, stream after stream of hot cum coating her, until my dick starts to soften just a little. Only then do I step back from the wall, and Jenna lets her legs uncurl from my waist.

  I set her on the floor, both of us sticky and coated with sweat. Her juices, mingled with my cum, run down the inside of her thighs, and her hair is a wild mess above her head, her face still red and flushed, eyes glazed over, as she recovers her breathing.

  She’s never been hotter than she is right now. Freshly fucked and hot for me.

  I sit on the edge of the bed and tug her onto my lap. She straddles me, so I can feel the wetness at her pussy too, dripping down onto my cock as it softens. But then she catches my face between her hands, pulls my lips to hers to start kissing me again, and I know my cock isn’t going to stay soft for long…

  5

  Jenna

  I lose track of how many times I come somewhere around six or seven. When I wake up the next morning, in an unfamiliar, messy as hell bed, with an arm flung around my waist, it takes me a split second to remember where I am.

  Only a second.

  Then it all comes flooding back. Gil’s smile by the fire, his scent driving me wild. Us dancing, my ass against his hips. Then him carrying me back here, and the wild fucking night that ensued. We fucked three times, each longer than the last it felt. That last time… My cheeks go hot, recalling how he bent me over in the shower. My ass against his hips again, but way more intimate than the dance floor. The noises echoing in the small shower. The unmistakable groans and grunts that let me knew he was enjoying every second of it too.

  I steal a peek over my shoulder to find him still asleep. With his eyes shut, and his whole face relaxed, he looks vulnerable. Something he definitely didn’t seem last night, tossing me around his room with ease as we fucked. Don’t get me wrong, I fucking love it rough, and he gave me all that and more. But I didn’t expect to see him like this in the morning. In my mind he was all muscle and brawn and badassery. Now, I’m catching a glimpse of another side. A softer side.

  I don’t hate that either.

  I watch him sleep for as long as I can plausibly get away with before I start to worry it might be creepy. Then, with difficulty, I raise the arm he had draped over me, and slip out from beneath it. It gives me a pang of regret to leave the warm bed, a bed that still smells like him, like sex, like everything we put the poor box springs through last night.

  Then I pad out to the kitchen to search for a clock. My thighs are sore like last night was a leg day, and there’s a subtle ache between my legs from Gil’s fucking last night. Neither of those things are painful, though. Instead they’re nice reminders of an incredible night.

  Shit.

  11:15am. I knew we were sleeping in—by the time we finally collapsed last night, I heard birds chirping outside, and caught glimpses of dawn light against the curtains. But I thought I’d hear my alarm before now, since I had it set for 9am. My phone must have run out of power.

  Sure enough, after some digging, I find it in my jeans pocket, totally dead.

  It’s not the end of the world—I got a lot of good shots yesterday from the festival. But there were morning events today my boss specifically asked for photos of. Some sort of tradition with a maypole dance—not the sexy type of pole dancing, the kind with old-fashioned dancers who weave streamers around a big pole. Though the streamers and the big pole are still symbols of a fertility ritual, so, make of that what you will.

  Then there was a big breakfast buffet with champagne and strawberries, and something about an apple-bobbing competition for children, which I thought would’ve been cute to get pictures of.

  So much for all that.

  I rub sleep from my eyes and dress back in the same clothes I wore last night. Last night they looked cute and casual. Today they look rumpled and walk-of-shame worthy.

  Dressed again, I take one more look at sleeping Gil, and I set about making breakfast. Least I could do, after all his hospitality.

  Most of that hospitality involved making me come, but still. Counts.

  The fridge looks even more bachelor-esque than most of Gil’s pad. All I find inside are some eggs, bacon, plain white bread, and what looks like a day old cup of coffee. I throw out the latter, and start frying the bacon, planning to cook some eggs afterward in the grease.

  While that’s cooking, I dig out the coffee pot and start that as well. It’s bubbling away happily by the time I finally catch sounds stirring from the other room. A few minutes later, Gil shuffles to the door, yawning and stretching his arms out wide. He’s dressed only in boxers, and my eyes linger on his chest and his abs, tracing every line of his body, memorizing him, until he lowers his arms to take me in.

  Then I look away fast, pretending I wasn’t just mesmerized. It’s good not to show too much interest right off the bat, after all. “Morning, sleepyhead,” I say.

  “Bacon and eggs?” he asks, sniffing the air.

  “It looked like just about the only food in the house,” I reply, with a smirk. “Aside from all the steaks in the freezer, that is. How do you take your coffee, by the way?”

  “Black,” he says, with a glance at the coffee pot, his eyebrows rising farther. “Hope you don’t mind that either; you won’t find any sugar or milk in here.”

  “Fine by me.” I smile over my shoulder at him. “Have a seat,” I add. “I’ve got this.”

  He still hesitates in the doorway, looking at me like he can’t quite understand where I’ve appeared from. “I’m used to making my own breakfast,” he finally says, though he does listen and cross over to the table to sit.

  “I can tell. When was the last time you had actual food in here?” I tease.

  “It’s spring,” he says, as though that explains everything. I stare at him like a crazy person. “The garden hasn’t picked up yet,” he explains. “Normally I’ve got fresh tomatoes, cucumber, eggplant, zucchini, a
bout a million different herbs and spices…” He goes on listing vegetables, and I laugh and shake my head.

  “All right, so sometimes you do eat,” I admit. “But you should shop for regular groceries in the winter, you know.”

  He shrugs one shoulder. “The venison suits me fine.”

  “That’s venison steak?” I practically squeal.

  He laughs in response. “City girl. What, you’ve never caught your own dinner?”

  “Ugh,” I groan. “You’re a regular mountain man, congratulations.” I finish frying the first round of bacon, quickly fry an egg, then spoon the whole lot onto his plate. “Here, eat up, before you go out to kill your next meal.”

  “Hey, better that than buying a ton of food I don’t need, with no idea where it came from, and letting things go to waste. Living off the land is more sustainable.”

  “So did you actually hunt the deer in your fridge yourself.”

  “Well, it was a team effort. Me and a few of my local buddies go hunting a couple times a year. Stock up our deep freezers. That’s dinner for most of the winter months.”

  “Isn’t it creepy though? Killing an animal?” I tilt my head as I set more bacon into the pan.

  “Are you a vegetarian?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

  “Well, no, but…”

  “Then you kill animals too,” he points out. “You just don’t actually see them die.”

  I glance back at the bacon frying in the pan, suddenly a little less excited about eating it. But I get what he means.

  Again, this man is surprising me.

  When my own breakfast is ready, I slide it onto my plate and step over to the table. Only then do I realize Gil has been waiting for me this whole time, to start eating. “Eat already,” I scold. “You’ll let it get cold.”

  He laughs, but digs in when I tell him to, and for a while, we eat together in companionable silence.

  Eventually, I take a sip of coffee and steal a glance at him from over the rim. “So, you’re the eternal bachelor type, hmm?” I guess.