by Jamie Knight
I think about how this woman is carrying my child and I get even more turned on. Lindsey is pregnant with my son or daughter. Nothing in the world pleases me more.
“Baby,” I whisper, as I fuck her. “You are so perfect and I’m going to come so hard in you.”
Lindsay moans at my words. “Yes,” she pants. “Come for me. Fill me up. Come in my asshole, you dirty boy.”
Her words excite me and my dick strains. My balls clench up towards my body and I can feel myself reaching the cliff of my orgasm—but I don’t want to come alone. So, I reach around Lindsay’s lean legs and rub a finger on her clit, roughly. I know I should start delicately, but there isn’t time. I want my wife to come before I explode into her ass.
Her hips twitch as I flick and rub her clit. She sort of jumps a bit, each movement telling me that what I am doing feels good to her. Lindsay pinches her nipples tight and throws her head back. Her tight ass gets tense, strangling and milking my cock further.
I take a deep breath, trying my best to hold back, but then she screams. Lindsay screams as she comes hard, squirting all over my hand. Her pleasure sends me over the edge. My cock swells and then erupts, spilling my seed all over the inner walls of her ass. Pleasure blossoms all through my body and tingles run through my dick.
I get slightly light headed, but I continue to pump her. I thrust into my wife’s ass, which is now so much wetter with my cum, until she screams again. Her whole body clamps down and pulses around me—begging me for more seed. And I give it to her. I unload ever last drop of my cum, filling her until it starts to run out and down her sweet thighs.
I pull back, and out, and look at my work. Lindsay’s cum soaked ass is beautiful. I love watching my seed drip out of her. It coats her lower lips, making them glisten.
She starts to sit back on her knees, but I stop her. I’m not done worshiping her body yet—the body that is going to carry my child. I push her back towards the couch and spread her ass cheeks wide. Dropping to my knees, I burry my face into her snatch licking it from end to end. Scooping up my essence and hers, I clean her body with my tongue. Lindsey, still sensitive from coming, twitches and wiggles at my touch. Her pussy lips open to me and I poke my tongue inside.
My good girl doesn’t pull away. She thrusts her ass into my face and fucks my tongue, grunting each time I slide into her. I twist my tongue and turn it, licking her from every angle and tickling her inner walls.
She comes again, pussy pulsing and clamping on my tongue. She pulls off slightly, as she becomes more sensitive, but I pull her back. I keep my face buried within her legs, licking her as she twitches and cries with joy.
Her legs thump like a jackrabbit, hitting my cheeks and trying to push me off her sensitive parts. But I hold on, urging her for more, begging her for one last orgasm. She delivers. Her whole body twists and she squirts again—right into my mouth.
Finally happy, I drink her pleasure down and give her lower lips one last tender kiss, before sitting back on my heels.
Lindsay collapses onto the couch. Her chest moves with her panting breath and she smiles at me—her eyes heavy lidded. I love that I fucked her to exhaustion. My angel will sleep well tonight.
“I don’t think I can walk, Brent,” she whispers. “Carry me to bed.”
I don’t reply. I just stand and pull her up into my arms. She wraps her hands around my neck and runs her fingers through my hair.
“You were so good,” she whispers.
I turn, meet her lips, and kiss her deeply, as I carry her the last few steps to our bed. I set her down gently, covering her, and then get into bed next to her. Pulling her close, I kiss her on the forehead. Thinking of how precious she is to me.
After a moment, we kiss. This is probably the most relaxed we’ve ever been. We lie in bed together, coming down from intense orgasms. I can always tell when Lindsay reaches her maximum level. And it’s the same way I’ve known her tell for years. Her face goes beet red. Except I no longer laugh, I just cherish the moment.
“Wow, that was amazing,” I say. “I’m so happy to be sharing my life with you. But I have a new idea for a contest.”
“What do you propose, Mr. Morgan?” she asks coyly.
“A challenge of sorts, Mrs. Morgan,” I say. “Let’s see just how great we can live this life of ours together.”
THE END
I Hate You, Marry Me
An Enemies to Lovers Fake Marriage Romance
Hate You Series, Book 4
Copyright © 2019
Jamie Knight –
Your Dirty Little Secret Romance Author
All rights reserved.
Chapter One
Robert
I’m feeling a bit dazed as I walk into one of the classrooms at my medical school and find my childhood enemy Savannah sitting there by herself, looking just as smug and annoying as ever. I shake my head, hoping that other students join us soon, so I don’t have to put up with her one on one.
Not to get anything mixed up, I should state for the record that she is gorgeous, with her long dark hair and bright green eyes. But her looks probably just aggravate me more – since they’re one more perfect thing about her.
I feel like she thinks she’s better than everyone else, just because her family has a bunch of money, as if wealth has anything to do with anything. Sure, it makes it easier to enjoy life, but it doesn’t make one person better than another.
Not only that, but her family has made it so that my own family has not been able to enjoy life as much as we once did, so that’s an extra reason to dislike her.
She must have heard me coming, because she turns her head in my direction.
“Robert!” she whispers.
She practically jumps out of her seat, like she’s seen a ghost.
I don’t understand why she is so flustered. We’ve been classmates for a while and there is no reason for her to get freaked out over my presence. I can admit I’m a little brusque when I’m around her, but nothing that should warrant such a reaction.
“Savannah,” I say, a little suspiciously, as I take the seat next to her.
I try not to give her too weird of a look, but my eyes definitely narrow a bit. Plus, something just feels off – and it’s not just the fact that Savannah is being all skittish.
That is something I can easily brush off, but there’s something else. Something scratching at the back of my mind.
There’s no one else in the classroom, which is odd, since I’m pretty sure class is supposed to start soon. In fact, I hadn’t seen anyone out in the hallway, had I?
I check my watch and notice that there’s about five minutes until class starts. I turn my head to look towards the door. I can’t hear any noises coming from the other side.
Where is everyone?
I turn back around in my seat and keep trying to think of an explanation for what’s going on.
Savannah and I sit there quietly for about a minute before I try to interject, “Do you know –?”
“How are things going?”
My question gets interrupted by hers.
She is obviously trying to be cordial, which is something I appreciate, even though it’s pretty rare between us.
Savannah’s cheeks turn a deep shade of red.
“I’m sorry. You go ahead.”
She makes a motion with her hand and that knocks the water bottle off her desk, sending it tumbling into my lap, where it spills all over my pants – just my luck.
“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!”
She looks between the emptying bottle and my face.
I quickly pick up the bottle and put it as far away from us as I can, so there won’t be another accident. It looks like I fucking pissed my pants. Of course, this would happen to me and of course Savannah would be the person to have caused it.
She probably did it on purpose, even though she’s claiming it’s an accident.
“Don’t worry about it,” I mumble.
I’m not su
re what to do, since I don’t have anything with which to wipe up the liquid.
“Are there any paper towels or napkins around?” I ask her.
I hate the feeling of wet pants and I would prefer that my other classmates don’t see me like this.
Savannah gets out of her seat and she looks really upset. It seems as if she’s on the verge of tears. Maybe my words came out sharper than I had intended.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I try to reassure her.
“Ugh, this is all my fault,” she says, ignoring me.
Maybe she isn’t as upset as I thought, because she seems totally composed now. And… well, duh, it’s her fault. She is the one who knocked the water over, but I’m not going to throw this all right back into her face. I may dislike her a whole lot, but I like to think I’m not a massive jerk.
“Let me take care of it,” she breathes.
She pulls her shirt over her head, revealing a lacy, black bra. It holds up a pair of perfectly full breasts that I really want to touch. Her breaths are coming out evenly, causing her chest to move up and down slowly.
It’s almost mesmerizing. I resist the urge to reach out and touch her. I want to feel the skin of her naked breast in my hand; I want to pinch her nipples and rub them between my fingers.
“Woah, what are you doing?” I ask her instead, telling my thoughts to shut up.
I look away, so I’m not staring at her chest.
She kneels down in front of my seat and starts using her shirt to wipe at my crotch.
“Jesus, Savannah!” I whisper.
“There’s no one else in here. I just wanted to take care of this as quickly as possible. I’ll do this as fast as I can. Just sit still, okay?”
She’s pleading at me, as if getting the water off my pants is all she wants to do right now. I’m not sure what to do with myself, and she continues to clean me up with her shirt, so I just let her.
I can feel my dick getting hard. All I can think about is how now is the most inappropriate time for an erection. I try to think about anything besides the hot girl who has her hand super close to my cock.
I run through as many boner-killing thoughts as I can, including reminding myself that Savannah and I have always hated each other, but nothing works. I keep trying, though, because it’s all I’m holding on to. I don’t want to draw any attention to my growing erection, because that would be embarrassing as all hell.
“Are you okay?” she asks, looking up into my face.
“I’m fine,” I grunt.
I see her bite her lip as she puts her hands on the tops of my thighs.
“Are you sure?” she whispers.
Her shirt has made its way to the ground, so that pretense has been dropped. Her hands go to the top of my jeans and she unbuttons them.
“Is this okay?”
Before I can answer, her hand slides inside, and I can feel it on my shaft.
“Fuck…”
She slowly strokes my now-very-hard cock, not giving me the release I desperately need. Her pace is excruciatingly slow. Her fingers feel like heaven wrapped around me.
“Do you want to fuck me, Rob?”
“What?”
My mind is absorbed with the sensations that her hand is creating, and I completely miss her question.
Savannah stands up, leans down, and then kisses me. I was not expecting that, so it takes me a second to react, but then I grab the back of her head and push her harder into me. She moans, and I open her mouth with my tongue, exploring the inside, but she pulls away before I’m ready and moves her lips to my ear.
“I asked if you wanted to fuck me.”
She moves her head back so she’s looking into my eyes.
“Do you?”
Her emerald eyes are wide, searching mine.
Suddenly— without me answering— we’re at the desk in the front of the room and she’s bent over it. Topless. My hands are rubbing up and down her back and, when I reach the waist of her pants, I peel them off and look at her beautiful ass because it’s amazing. So round and perfect.
“Jesus, Savannah…”
“You already said that.”
I reach out and grab those hot tits of hers that I had been daydreaming about as soon as she took off her shirt. Her nipples are erect; she clearly wants me just as much as I want her. I run my fingers over them, rubbing and then pinching softly, while she licks her lips.
“That feels so good, Rob.”
The next thing I know, she lays her cheek flat against the desk, so she can look at me, I guess. Her hair has spilled across the top of it, the chestnut brown almost matching the color of the wood.
Looking into her eyes, I pull down my jeans and underwear. My erection pops out of confinement. I hurry to stroke it a few times before positioning myself at her entrance.
“Do you want this?” I ask.
She licks her lips again.
“I want this,” she sighs.
I enter her with a lot more force than I intended to and her body slams into the desk. She lets out a loud groan and from there I grab ahold of her ass.
I pound into her over and over and then I start spanking her.
“You’re such a bad girl, letting me fuck you in class,” I tell her. “Letting me take that tight little pussy of yours when you’ve never even liked me.”
“Spank me harder,” she calls out, holding onto the desk. “Spank your bad girl.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I tell her, as I squeeze her ass cheeks before hitting them again, making both of them turn red. “I’ve always hated you just as much as you hate me, you know?”
“Then hate-fuck me,” she calls out, as I feel her juices run down on my cock.
Everything else falls away and I feel her tighten even more around me.
“I’m close, Rob. I’m so close.”
“Jesus Christ!”
I start to hear light laughter and open my eyes— I hadn’t even realized I had closed them.
“You keep saying that.”
She smiles.
I’m still inside Savannah, but the mood has shifted. She’s picked herself up a little, so that she’s on her elbows. Her head is twisted and she’s looking back at me. It looks unnatural, if not downright impossible.
“Do you still hate me? Or have you fucked it all away?”
I shake my head out of confusion.
“What?”
“Do you still hate me, Rob? Do you even know how you feel? Why can’t you just admit the truth?”
I furrow my brow and can feel that I want to answer, but nothing comes out. It’s like there’s something clogging my throat, literally.
And then I’m awake.
My body jerks in my bed; my mind is totally shocked. I don’t want to think about what I just dreamed about, but it’s still burned into my mind.
“What the fuck?” I moan softly, as I rub my face with my hands.
Why did it have to be Savannah?
There are so many other women in this world that could have taken her place in my sex dream. I would have woken up way less grumpy if it had been someone else that I had been dreaming about, but no, it had to be Savannah King.
I can’t stand her. I don’t like to throw around the word ‘hate,’ but that’s honestly the best way to describe my thoughts when it comes to her.
So why did I just dream about fucking her silly?
Chapter Two
Robert
Throwing my arm over my forehead, I stare up at the ceiling. It probably means nothing— the dream, that is.
Just because I don’t like the woman doesn’t mean she isn’t sexy. I can fucking admit that. I’m not so caught up in my feelings of hatred that I’d lie to myself.
Anyway, it was probably just my undersexed-self trying to fill in a blank. I can probably just ignore the whole thing and go about my day. Actually, that’s exactly what I’ll do, since it’s the easiest option, in my opinion.
I get out of bed and get dr
essed for my daily run. Brent is probably almost here. He doesn’t live too far away from me.
As I’m putting on my shirt, I get a text and see that I was right— my best friend, who is also my brother-in-law, is waiting for me downstairs. I grab the few things I need and join him outside.
“Rob, you’re late!” Brent jokes.
I’m usually already outside when he gets here, so I guess he isn’t wrong— technically speaking, that is.
“Or maybe you’re just early,” I say back, maybe a little more grumpy than necessary, but it’s been a bit of a morning.
We start our run, keeping pace with one another. It’s a warm sunny morning. Typical spring in Northern California.
Brent and I are in our first semester at Pacific Day Medical School. One of the most prestigious private schools on the West Coast. I worked hard to get here, pulling myself up from poverty.
Because of that, I rarely relax. There is always more studying and work to be done.
My one release is my daily run. Something Brent has been joining me on for the last few months.
“How’s Lindsay?” I ask, after a few blocks, referring to my sister and Brent’s wife.
“She’s doing well. Even though the pregnancy is like one big surprise after another for her. I’ll admit it’s also a little eye-opening for me. Hearing about it in class is a lot different than actually watching your wife go through it all. There’s so much happening to her body and she’s asking me all these questions, some that I have no answer to, but all-in-all, I’d say we’re doing pretty good. Plus, we’ve still got some time. Lindsay’s six months along, which gives us the last trimester to get our shit together,” Brent explains.
I roll my eyes at his little joke, but I’m beyond happy for my best friend and sister.
