by Madi Le
She didn’t respond to that, just pulled the boxers down a little bit, enough that my cock sprung loose and stared her in the face.
“You think so, huh?”
I took a deep breath in and leaned back against the counter. It didn’t creak under my weight.
“Yeah,” I said softly. An image flashed in my mind, halfway remembered. Something about the smell and the sensation of her hand gripping my shaft aroused a memory, faint even in focus.
Then she took me into her mouth and I lost my mind and the memories it held. The only thing that existed was the feeling of her lips wrapped around my shaft and giving me the pleasure that I needed. Pleasure that was all-encompassing and impossible.
“God, that’s good,” I growled. It was an effort not to take her hair in my hands and force her to move faster.
I let her move at her own pace for a minute. But the temptation grew, and grew. I pulled her away and looked her in the eyes.
“I’m going to move, now,” I said.
She didn’t respond except to start sucking again. I grabbed her head and thrust my hips. It caught in her throat and she made a soft choking noise as I pulled back. My body wanted to keep moving, keep going deeper and deeper until I was practically all the way to her stomach. But I forced myself to stay to a slow, controlled rhythm.
Then I pushed her away.
“No more,” I said. My breaths were coming hard and fast and my head needed to clear. But even then I had trouble controlling myself. Even knowing what was still to come. “Stand up.”
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I push into her slowly, her arousal slick enough that I don't find much resistance against me...
He was a renegade... an outlaw... and I loved him so much.
There's a fine line between work and pleasure. Jada Davis has crossed that line before, and she's not going to cross it again. But the heart wants what it wants, and Jada can't deny that her body wants Ryan Beauchamp, too.
He's a ruthless killer and a gun runner. There's no way that she's got anything going on with him. The relationship's done, dead in the water, gone.
But he's the only ticket she's got to getting the biggest score of her career, and every step they get closer to the catch of a lifetime takes her one step closer to Beauchamp, and his frustratingly-attractive bedroom.
Preview…
I can't help myself, looking down at Davis's body beneath me. I can feel the heat, where we're pressed together. The way that she trembles, I can feel the need that she's feeling, need reflected in my own hardness.
I put a hand down on her back, pressing her body into the seat, and rub the head of my cock up and down her wet pussy. I push inside slowly, her arousal slick enough that I don't find much resistance against my invading cock.
Davis groans out her pleasure, a pleasure that threatens even after so little to overwhelm me. Her pussy pressed in against my unprotected cock clutches at every part of it, fighting to stop me from pulling back out.
The sensation is almost too much as I pull back. When I slam forward again into her waiting pussy, Davis lets out a loud groan of pleasure. I can't help but join her.
"Oh, fuck," I groan, starting to settle into a rhythm. With each pull out, I feel her pussy trying to pull me back in, and with each thrust in I feel as if I'm already impossibly close to orgasm.
I take a grip of her hips and use them as a handle to push into her harder, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh starting to echo through the bar around us. I don't care, and as far as I can tell, Davis doesn't care, either. Not that she seems like she's in any state to worry about anything.
She shudders with pleasure as I pound my cock into her again, my grip starting to slip where her body is slick with sweat from the heat of the room mixing with the heat of arousal.
I can feel myself hitting her deepest parts, her body giving up its pleasure to me. I don't need to be given, though. I take what I want, forcing myself into her again and again.
Davis is moaning out her pleasure again, unable to contain her voice even for a moment, now. Her voice rises with each thrust, and her lamentations as I pull out are given voice almost as loudly.
I push into her again, some primal instinct driving me to take a fist-full of her hair and pull her head back. Her back arches away from the bench, but she still cries out in pleasure beneath me.
"Don't stop." The words can barely make it out of her mouth between her moans and her ragged breath, but I don't need to be told.
I move her leg, forcing it up onto the raised floor under the booth, opening her hips more for my movements between them. I didn't think it was possible to drive into her any deeper, but I find the space.
My body cries out with need, every thrust driving me closer and closer to orgasm, bringing me closer to the edge. I drive into her, each thrust seeming to take me deeper than the last, to mark her as mine so that nobody else will ever be able to have her.
A dangerous part of me likes that idea. Likes the idea that nobody after this will ever be able to measure up to me. I take my grip on her hips again and use it to thrust as hard as I can, forcing her body to remember my shape with the power of each thrust.
Her hips stopped moving, but I can still see her hands, ineffectually scrabbling for something to get a grip on, something that will give her some sort of control or context on her surroundings.
I reach down and take that hand in my own, pulling her shoulders back tight. She arches away from the cushion again, her hips pressing back against my invading cock now, a new dimension that I hadn't even considered or imagined.
I can feel her tightening down on me for what feels like the third or fourth time, and where I had thought that Davis was out of energy and couldn't muster the strength to keep fucking the way we had been, she seemed to find something more.
Her body seemed to sense my approaching orgasm, and she seemed to know that any minute now, I would be letting loose an orgasm inside her waiting, fertile womb.
That thought drives me to thrust into her with renewed vigor, and her body seems to be matching my intensity, meeting each thrust with her hips pushing back, letting a loud 'slap' of flesh-on-flesh ring out every time I take her.
I can feel my body tensing, can feel myself losing the control that lets me keep a steady rhythm. Need begins to overtake my control, forcing me to take each thrust as I can get it.
The rhythm breaks, and now I have nothing more than desire and the sensation that any moment I'll pass over the crest and finally fulfill the nagging need inside me.
One last push inside and my vision goes dark, my eyes forcing themselves shut as a powerful orgasm rips through my body, the two of us still joined as I cum hard, one long potent strand of cum after another shooting into her.
Maybe I shouldn't have done it. I don't care. My body starts to relax, the fire that had taken over my body starting to ebb away. I lean forward to press a kiss against the nape of Davis's neck, laying still there for a moment before pulling out of her.
A drop of cum follows with me, spilling out and onto the floor, just something else I'm going to have to clean up when all this is over.
Davis lays there for a long minute, panting and trying to catch her breath, before turning herself over in the bench.
"That was—"
I smile at her, lazily palming one of her breasts as it pools on her chest. A woman always looks her best on her back, like that. Something stirs deep inside me, a renewed interest that I haven't decided yet whether or not to refuse.
"Yes, it was," I agree. My thumb passes over her nipple, and it hardens immediately, already trained to follow my orders. Davis's body is more honest than she is, at least.
"We shouldn't have done it, though."
"Shut up," I tell her, my voice lacking even the edge of a threat.
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I made a stupid bet.
And I lost big.
I didn't lose
money.
I didn't lose my house.
I lost my god damn mind.
She wasn't interested.
I wasn't supposed to actually fall for her.
Things weren't supposed to get serious.
That only made me want her more.
She wrapped me around her fingers like it was nothing...
And now I'm obsessed with her.
Preview…
Evan knew, in his gut, that the moment that they touched in a serious way, the moment that his lips touched hers, they were going to be on a crash course that was going to end in the bedroom. And he knew, more than that, that she didn't have a problem with it. He knew that he needed to get it done. He knew all of these things, and he waited.
He ate the steaks he cooked. He watched the movie she picked. For a moment he even thought about letting her leave for the night, and picking it up next time. Because something about the whole thing gnawed at him in a way that he didn't know how to describe, except that he made himself nervous in a way that no girl had ever done to him.
In the end, it wasn't a logical decision that brought them together. It was his gut. He took her all the way to the door, and was fishing for his keys, when he looked her in the eyes, and the attraction was as much magnetic as it was her appearance.
His lips found hers and then his teeth found her lips, and then her teeth parted and their tongues found each other. His hands found her sides, pulled her shirt up, and discarded it to the side. Her underwear told him that she'd been seriously considering this possibility.
Evan Park had never been a man who needed to hurry when it came to sex. In this case, though, he didn't know that he had the self-control to spend the time admiring her bra as much as he knew he should. He pulled it aside and pulled a breast between his lips. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up.
She let out a mewl of arousal when he held her against the wall, her feet not quite touching the ground. Her legs wrapped around his hips. They were still half-dressed and he was ready to find a way to skip the other clothes-shedding parts of the evening and get to the main event already. He grit his teeth and pushed against her. She pulled him against her hard.
"Fuck me," she growled into his ear.
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