Losing It All

Home > Other > Losing It All > Page 24
Losing It All Page 24

by Wilde, Kati


  Hard, because he’s got all that heavy muscle to back up that promise. I bite my bottom lip as he strips off his undershirt, revealing tanned and tatted skin. After so much time in the stables, the look of a big man like Stone should be nothing to me. Or even a turnoff. But it’s not. Because I’ve seen his strength isn’t only in his powerful body—and he’s not just any fighter. He’s the one whose fate was put in my hands, for better or worse.

  So far it’s been worse. But I think it’s about to get a lot better.

  His big hands go to the fastening of his jeans and he looks down at me. “Shirt off,” he says hoarsely, eyes hot with need.

  Breath trembling, I drag it up over my head. His gaze devours me when I throw it aside and lie back on the bed.

  “Grab that headboard,” he rasps out. “Legs spread wide. Real fucking wide.”

  Not tying me this time. My shaking fingers curl around the cold iron rail at the head of the bed. The arch of my back and the way the position lifts my breasts might have consumed all of my awareness if not for the effort it takes to part my legs. Not just wide. Real fucking wide. Until my feet are nearly hanging off either side of the bed. If they were spread any wider, I’d be doing the splits.

  Which shouldn’t feel sexy. Except for the way Stone’s eyes go hooded when his gaze settles on my exposed pussy, and he rolls his tongue over his bottom lip. As if already tasting me.

  But he shakes his head and mutters, “That’s no fucking good,” before reaching past me and snatching up two of the pillows by my head. I give a surprised little squeak, hands tightening on the rail when I’m almost upended and Stone wedges both pillows beneath my hips.

  When he sets me back down, heat flushes my face. The arch in my back is deeper, and the spread of my legs and the height of my hips don’t just expose my pussy, but put it on display.

  Which must be what he wanted. Hunger suffuses the hard lines of his face. “Christ, yes,” he groans, his big fingers spreading over my belly, sliding down between my legs. “This puts your little fuckhole right where my cock needs it. I’m gonna make your pussy pay up good.”

  Not just with his cock. His knee braced beside my upraised torso, he bends over, his tongue slicking over my clit. I cry out, my body jolting, then he grabs my hips and presses me down into the pillows, burying his head deeper between my splayed thighs. Hungrily he feasts, his mouth open and hot. My heartbeat fills my head with wild thunder. I can barely see anything past the arch of my own body and his broad shoulders, only feel the way he sucks and licks at my folds and clit until the sound of my wetness joins his harsh groans and my desperate breaths. Beside me, his cock juts from the open zipper of his jeans. So long and thick and I ache to stroke it, to taste it, to make him feel like he’s making me feel, but keep hold of the rail because I couldn’t bear to see him draw back from my dead fish hands. But the heavy shaft becomes my only focus beyond the delicious torment of his mouth, until even that recedes into a fog of pleasure when the orgasm nears, my body writhing and legs quaking.

  Abruptly he stops.

  I hold back my scream behind clenched teeth. Then nearly scream again when his fingers stroke between my legs instead, gliding past my clit—but only teasing.

  He presses a kiss to my hip. “I learned something today.”

  I have to catch a breath before responding, “How to drive a woman to murder?”

  I feel his quiet laugh against my skin. “Nah. Why you were named Cherry.”

  “Oh,” I say, still breathless. “Does it matter?”

  “Not a damned bit,” he says, pushing up to sit on the edge of the bed and dragging off his boots. “I don’t give a fuck whether you’re a virgin or whether you screwed every man in the Cage. Except that it means you won’t be running off to find any other fighters and offering to settle up with them, too. So I’ll be the only one getting my pound of flesh.”

  I eye his big cock as he stands and shoves his jeans down his heavy thighs. “I think I’m getting more than a pound.”

  A short laugh barks from him. “Shut your damn mouth.”

  Because I’m making him like me. But it’s not as if my mouth went anywhere. “You aren’t gagging me again?”

  “Not this time. I want to hear every sound you make.” Naked, he heads over to the table and picks up a chair, then jams it up under the door handle. Preventing any more interruptions. My delicious view of his tight ass becomes a delicious view of his engorged cock when he makes his way back. “But you paying up this way makes a hell of a lot more sense now. You’re a good girl who did a bad thing, and now you feel obligated to make amends. If I were a good man, I wouldn’t make you follow through.”

  “I think you’re a good man,” I tell him huskily.

  “You’re wrong about that.” The mattress sinks beneath his weight and he kneels between my legs, his voice roughening. “Because I’m going to use this little fuckhole until I get everything I need out of it.”

  What does he need? But I can’t ask, only bite my lip against a moan when he strokes his thumb over my too-sensitive clit, my entire body shivering with anticipation.

  Eyes narrowing, he asks in a dangerously soft voice, “Who were you saving that cherry for? You got someone waiting for you—is that why you’re so eager for me to let you go? Because I’ll tell you now, you saving it for someone else ain’t going to save you from me.”

  “There’s no one,” I tell him, hips moving restlessly as he continues teasing my clit. “I was waiting for marriage.”

  He abruptly frowns. “You’re religious?”

  Not really. “It was just…something I decided was right for me.”

  “That’s too damn bad, because fucking you is right for me.” Gaze fierce, he moves in between my legs and braces one hand beside my shoulder, gripping his cock with the other. “I’ll marry you after.”

  And he claims that he’s not a good guy. A laugh ripples through me, following by a wake of longing that I absolutely will not examine right now.

  “That’s okay.” And if he stopped now, it might kill me. “It’s just like dessert. I don’t want to spend any more time waiting for the good stuff.”

  “As tight and wet as your pussy is, this’ll be the real good stuff,” he says gruffly, dragging the head of his erection through my slick folds. Just like before. This time, though, there won’t be anyone coming through the door. “But though I’ll start easy, I don’t know if this first time will be real good for you.”

  I know it won’t be. Not right away. “Then use me for what you need.”

  “Sweet fucking Christ.” A tortured laugh shakes through him. “Handlebar called you an angel and I figure he’s not far off, because I’ve got you spread out beneath me and I’m about to break open your virgin cunt, but you’re still trying to take care of me. Who the fuck are you, girl?”

  “Cherry,” I whisper.

  His face hardens. “Not for long.”

  Only a few more seconds. With his jaw clenched, Stone steadily presses forward. Despite preparing myself for it, I cry out when a sharp tearing pain blooms into a dark burning ache between my legs. My body involuntarily stiffens, stomach hollowing and hips tilting back, trying to ease the agonizing stretch when his thickness breaches my entrance.

  Groaning, Stone wraps his arm around my waist, locks my lower body to his. His head bends to my ear and his voice is a strained rasp. “You’re closing me out, angel. You want my cock inside you, keep those legs open wide.”

  Because I’d instinctively clamped my thighs tight to his sides, trying to push the pain away. With sobbing breaths, I spread them wide again.

  The burning pressure inside me begins sinking deeper.

  “Fuck, yes. That’s my sweet girl.” His breaths are harsh against my ear, the steely forearm behind my back anchoring me in place for his relentless penetration. “Your little virgin pussy is fighting so damn hard not to take what I’m giving it. But it ain’t gonna win. So I’ll get all the way up inside you, then we’ll stop f
or a minute. Yeah?”

  Wordlessly I nod, squeezing my eyes closed against the threatening tears. It doesn’t even hurt as much now. It’s just so…overwhelming. His cock looked big but feels enormous, wedging deeper than it seems like anything could go when his weight fully settles into the cradle of my thighs. As if I’m not even made of flesh and bone, but made to be filled by Stone.

  “You took me in so good, angel. Your cunt’s gripping every inch real tight.” His words are choked, his eyes closed and his expression close to agony when he raises his head, his hips pumping shallowly against me. “But I can’t stop like I said I would. Christing hell, you feel too damn good to stop for even a second. Are you hurting?”

  “No.” Not anymore.

  “Feeling good?”

  No. Just so incredibly full. I don’t give him that answer but his gaze rakes my face and he lets loose a harsh laugh, teeth gritted.

  “I don’t even give a fuck right now,” he grinds out, those shallow pumps deepening. “Soon I’ll need your pussy to come hard and suck me off, but for now I’ll use this fuckhole as I was meant to. You stay real still. I’ll go slow as I can. Just keep those legs open wide.”

  So wide. So he can use my pussy. Breath trembling, I nod.

  Releasing my waist, he grips the bedframe, his hands on either side of mine. His height means that he’s not stretched out like I am but looming over my upper body with his knees braced between my widespread thighs and his gaze fixed on my face. Our skin’s not touching anywhere except when he presses forward again and his hips bump into my inner thighs.

  And where he’s touching me inside. So deep inside. A whimper escapes my throat when a full-length thrust rekindles the burning ache, but the hurt eases even as he pushes into my tight channel again.

  Above me, Stone appears in more pain than I am, his lips drawn back in a tight grimace and his teeth clenched. As if the effort of fucking me slowly instead of hard and deep is sheer agony.

  Because my pussy feels too good for him to stop.

  A sweet pressure builds in my chest. Because that’s pleasure I’m giving him. And I want him to feel so good. As my body rocks on a swaying thrust, I brace my heels against the mattress and spread a little more for him.

  His head falls forward on a tormented groan. “Ah Christ, I can’t fucking believe what you’re doing to me, angel.” His body over mine forms a bridge of steely muscles and tensile strength, his arms shaking with strain as he sinks into me again. “But I’ll take everything you have to give.”

  He’s the one giving, and I’m the one taking. Over and over, long and slow. Spikes of lust pierce me in the same rhythm as I watch ecstasy overtake the tight agony in his expression, as if a blissful drug surges through his veins with every stroke of his cock. Though he’s looking down at me, his eyes slowly glaze over, his gaze feverishly hot and unseeing. His jaw unclenches, and his chest heaves as he drags in deep, ragged breaths through his open mouth as if he’s drowning in the arousal between my thighs, the increasing wetness that I can hear with every thrust, the slickness that’s easing his passage through the flesh he claimed was so tight, so good.

  It still feels tight. But without the same discomfort now, the delicious stretch as he pushes into me inevitably followed by the hollow ache of his withdrawal and the yearning clench of my inner walls, as if my body’s trying to hold onto him. All of me wants to hold onto him, to wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his thrusting hips.

  But I can’t bear to see his rapt, blissful expression vanish. So I keep still while my pussy takes every inch of his massive length.

  Again. And again.

  Pushing into me. So thick and long. So slow and deep.

  A desperate whine builds in my chest. My thighs shake as I struggle to keep them spread wide, so wide, even though I’m unraveling inside.

  All that effort is for nothing when his cock slides deep and an orgasm plows into me, ripping a scream from between my clenched teeth and jolting through my body like a stream of electricity. My spine arcs higher up off the bed, my heels digging into the mattress for leverage as I pump my hips and helplessly ride the heavy length lodged within me.

  I’m still shuddering convulsively as my body eases back down—though not far. Stone is no longer holding onto the railing. Instead he’s braced one forearm beside my shoulder with his hand cradling the back of my head, and his other arm is wrapped around my waist again, his cock still buried deep inside my quivering cunt.

  My ankles are locked behind his ass. Not spread open. But I don’t want him to stop.

  My thigh muscles tremble wildly when I unwind my legs from around him.

  A deep groan rumbles from his chest, his forehead pressing to mine. “Hold up, greedy girl,” he says raggedly. “Give me a minute to recover.”

  My body shakes on a breathless laugh. “You need to recover?”

  Not from an orgasm. He’s still rock hard inside me.

  “The second I got into you, I thought I was in heaven. But I was only standing at the pearly gates, because when your pussy started squeezing my dick and you started thrashing around… Holy fuck.” His fingers tighten in my hair. “I ain’t never felt anything like that.”

  “You’ve never made a woman come before? That’s sad.”

  His growl in response sounds mostly like a laugh. “You and your damn mouth.” Then he kisses me, stealing the grin from my lips, a caress that’s so sweet and far too brief. “But I should have known the tightest, wettest pussy in the world would turn into a fucking miracle when you come. Now you’re going to do that again.”

  “I don’t think I can.” The last one just about wiped me out.

  “No?” His eyes gleam. Letting go of my hair, he levers up on his straightened arm. I gasp as the movement shifts his weight between my legs and pleasure flares deep within me. “We’ll see about that. Now open up those pretty thighs again.”

  Oh god. I do, every inch that I move them apart making me so much more aware of the pulsating length inside me, of the way Stone watches me with all that sharp, heavy-lidded hunger, of his forearm at my back still holding me so tight against him.

  Then the slow roll of his hips that drags pure pleasure from my flesh and a moan from my lips.

  “Knew it.” His head hangs low, teeth gritted again. “You came so fucking hard and that was just on my dick. Wasn’t even touching your clit. Now you tell me what you like best. Me screwing into you real deep like this?”

  “Yes.” My answer is a pleasured gasp. “Yes.”

  “Or maybe you just like me rubbing all the way up inside you, pushing in until I bottom out.” He draws back for a slow, full-length stroke that presses so deep inside me. Another. “Maybe you like the way my cock stretches every inch of that tight little pussy.”

  Oh my god, that too. And I can’t hold onto the rail anymore. My fingers twist in the bedcovers at my sides, anchoring me as if the next thrust might send me soaring.

  Then he sits back a little more, the head of his cock wedged just inside my entrance. “Or maybe when I hit this little spot right here. Because that’s what these pillows are really good for, angling you up so I can fuck into your cunt just right.”

  My G-spot. Of course he knows right where it is. And how to work that bulging tip into me with quick, shallow thrusts that strike the sensitive cluster of nerves again and again. The noise I make in the back of my throat doesn’t even sound human, but more like a desperate animal cry—then a short scream bursts from my chest when he abruptly sinks deep again, stretching me, screwing me.

  “Ah, Christ.” He grinds into me, his gaze feral. “Your pussy loves all of it. Loves how I fuck it.”

  So much. I can’t see anything but him, can’t feel anything but him inside me.

  His mouth dips closer to rasp against my lips, “And maybe you like a little dirty talk, too.”

  I laugh through my shuddering gasps. “Maybe.”

  Or maybe it’s just Stone’s voice, and all the gravel in it w
hen he’s buried so deep, when he’s so hard and aroused and my pussy’s giving him what he needs.

  He bends his head against my ear and says gruffly, “Should we see if your pussy likes it rough? But not too rough. Not this time. Not with your cherry still painting my dick.”

  I don’t care if it is. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

  “Do it.” My inner thighs strain as I push them even wider. “So rough. Please.”

  “Christing fuck, that’s a greedy cunt.” With a grunt, he rears back, clamps his hands on my hips. “Gonna give everything you need.”

  Driving into me, hard and deep. Sending heat streaming up my spine to melt my brain, as he fucks into me over and over, the wet sound of my lust getting louder with every slap of skin against skin. I begin unraveling again, my control peeling away as he hikes my hips higher and makes me pay what I owe with each rough and deep stroke, then the slippery glide of his thumb over my clit turns me inside out, completely undone.

  My head falls back and I choke on a silent scream, hips writhing against his powerful hold. He keeps fucking into my clenching pussy, bending over between my legs again, his features a tortured mask of pleasure.

  “Nothing like it. Ain’t nothing like it.” His cock surges into me again, his mouth open wide and chest heaving. “Better than any prize. I’d have killed ten men for this. A hundred men. Will kill any man who tries to take you away. And I sure as fuck ain’t letting you go.”

  A fist tightens around my heart. “You have to,” I gasp out.

  “Let this miracle of a pussy go?” All that glazed bliss vanishes from his eyes. “Not a fucking chance.”

  “Then I won’t come anymore.”

  “No?”

  He grinds against me, renewing the sparks of heat in my sensitized flesh. I grit my teeth against a moan and shove at his chest.

  “You gonna fight me?” A hard thrust makes me gasp again, then he snatches my hands and pins my wrists over my head. “Go on and fight, then.”

  Oh my god. He meets my every struggle with a thrust and it’s almost like I’m fucking myself onto him, and it feels so good.

 

‹ Prev