by Daphne Dawn
My every desire, every want and need and goal for the future, reshapes itself around the way her skin feels beneath my fingers. The way the slender mound of her cunt rises to meet the palm of my hand. When I move to cup her pussy with my fingers, I realize how perfectly my hand fits between her thighs.
Like she was made for me, and me alone.
My cock throbs as I touch her, reminding me it was made for something too. Fucking Chloe. Pleasuring her. Being inside my woman, as deep as her body will allow.
The next time Chloe comes for me, it's going to be while she's wrapped around my cock.
"Come here," she beckons.
Now I know where the myths about sirens come from. If someone who looked as beautiful as Chloe looks right now, with a voice that sweet and words that tempting, were to call my ship to her out on the ocean, I would crash it against the rocks in an instant.
I move my hips between her legs and let my body rest on hers. There's something enchantingly perfect about the way her tits feel, pressed up against my chest like this. The way her nipples stand hard against my skin. My cock throbs again as it settles between the lips of Chloe's pussy. I can feel her coating my dick with hot, slick honey as she rubs herself against it.
My woman.
My Chloe.
Mine.
"I want you," she breathes.
Her chest rises and falls beneath mine, matching my own breath. A second ago, she was hyperventilating. Now, she's measuring her own breaths out to fall in time with my own.
"I want you too," I admit.
Even as I say the words, something dark and demanding rises up in my chest, commanding that I take her. Fuck her until she's cross-eyed. Use her cunt until she's fucking sore from me. Bite her neck. Make her moan. Make her scream.
But there's something else inside me too now. Something that wants to hold her close and never hurt her. Never let anything cause her pain or sadness. I pity anything that dares to try. I want to protect her like a newborn kitten that I'm keeping warm in my shirt pocket.
I want to worship her like a goddess.
I want to make her bow down to me. Like a vengeful god.
I'm not sure that there's any way to bring all of that together. I'm not sure that I can satisfy the lust I have for this beautiful fucking woman in just one night. Maybe not even in a lifetime.
But by God, I can try.
"Roll over," I growl.
Chloe bites her lip. With only a moment's hesitation, she obeys.
The darkness in my chest purrs to life as she crawls on all fours beneath me and my cock levels at her cunt again. But it's not Chloe's pussy the darkness in my chest wants.
Coated and dripping with Chloe's cum, I take my massive fucking cock in my fist and press it against the tight pucker of her ass instead.
"Oh," Chloe breathes in surprise.
I smooth my free hand over the gorgeous curve of one ass cheek, then up and down her spine. I stroke my woman like she's my pet. My plaything.
At first, she shivers at my touch. But quickly, Chloe gives in to pleasure. She always does in the end. I can feel her muscles relaxing against the palm of my hand. Falling into complacency. Learning how to adore my touch.
And as Chloe relaxes, her body responds more and more to what I give her. A little slap against her ass has her pushing it upward, grinding her tight little hole against my stiff tip. She's starting to want it. I can smell it, a fresh wave of wetness mixing in with the perfume of the roses as the room spins slowly around us.
"Open your mouth," I command, and Chloe's gorgeous lips pop open obediently.
Between them, I place a single, long-stemmed rose. I'm careful to position the thorns away from her lips. The idea of hurting her fucking kills me.
Then her ass thrusts against my cock again as she holds the rose between her teeth, and hurting her is all I want to do.
I thrust my cock into her, unhinged and uncaring. The power I have over Chloe, her gorgeous fucking body and the tightness of her ass, surges through me like a bolt of lightning. I feel it crackling at my fingertips and tugging at my hair follicles. Then, my cock throbs and it pulsates as Chloe's ass swallows my cock right up.
Her ass is even hotter than her cunt is. I didn't believe it was fucking possible but it's true. She's insanely tight and every thrust makes her whimper.
At first, I think it's with pain. But every time I stop, Chloe rocks against me, demanding more. Pushing my big, fat cock even deeper into her slutty fucking ass. Taking me inside her and milking me of my fucking cum.
I lose myself. I use her. I take her throat one hand, squeezing gently, and she moans like a bitch in heat. I take a fist and capture her hair within it, winding it up and pulling her head back. Like a fucking leash.
"I love you," I growl as I hoist her body upright.
The hand at her throat moves to tease her nipple. To squeeze her breast. I thrust deeper and deeper into my woman, and she can only whimper and moan through the rose in her teeth.
"I love you, Chloe," I say again, just before I take her neck between my own teeth.
Biting Chloe is like biting into a ripe peach. The taste of her skin makes me salivate.
"I own you," I growl against her neck. "You're fucking mine."
Chapter 43
Chloe
There's a rose between by teeth and the biggest cock I've ever taken currently thrusting balls-deep in my ass.
Even better, that cock belongs to the man I love. A man who loves me back. Totally. Completely. An all-consuming love.
Suffice to say, I'm pretty fucking happy. I don't feel like I ask for a lot. Cinnamon rolls delivered to my door by handsome billionaires. Honeymoon suites filled with roses. Ten inches of thick, meaty dick on demand. And love. A whole lot of love. As much as Aaron can give me.
And I'll give just as much back.
"Touch yourself, Chloe," Aaron orders me.
He's holding me against him, one hand on my throat and the other on my breast. His fingers are fucking cruel, and I like them that way. He alternates between different, equally intense pleasures.
First, he's squeezing my throat. Gently pressing his fingers against the vein that pumps oxygen-rich blood to my brain. He doesn't close off my windpipe. Slowly the blood flow is what he's doing. It leaves my head feeling airy. Light and dizzy and dumb with wanting.
Then, he lets up on my throat and he's pinching my nipple. Tugging at it. Twisting it. Groping my breast like I'm a piece of fuckmeat.
While oxygen returns to my brain, he's flooding my head with endorphins as well. Adrenaline. All those sexy little hormones that amp you up and pull you deeper into the lust. The feel of his touch. The thrusts of his hips.
Even better, every squeeze he gives me makes my ass tighten around the thickness of his gorgeously hard cock that much more. I can feel the air leave his lungs every time I clench around him.
I know that he’s close. We've fucked enough times that I can feel all the little signs. The urgency of his hips slamming against my ass. The way his balls are tighter and tighter against my ass cheeks with every thrust.
He's going to cum in my ass. He loves me, and he's going to fill my ass up with his seed.
Romantic anal. Who the fuck knew this could feel so damn good?
"Chloe," Aaron orders again. "Touch yourself or I'm going to ruin this ass for good."
Oh. The way my cunt throbs as he says it, it's almost like that's exactly what my pussy wants.
He slaps my ass and I dip my fingers down to my clit. It's swollen. Engorged. When Aaron squeezes my throat again, it twitches against my fingers and my entire body twitches along with it. Like every muscle I have suddenly contracts and releases in a split second.
It's too much. Entirely. But that's Aaron in a nutshell, isn't it? Too much, too hard, too fast. And he's so gorgeous, so sweet, and so fucking good at what he does that he can actually get away with it, too.
I settle by clit in the valley between my index and middle fin
gers and let Aaron set the pace. Every time he thrusts his huge, thick cock into the tightness of my ass, he forces my body forward. Every time he withdraws, my body rocks back.
And that's how he makes me come for him. With my clit rubbing up and down against my fingers, so wet that it slips and slides deliciously against anything it touches. So sensitive that it doesn't even take much to make me explode with pleasure.
"Aah!" I cry out as my whole body shakes.
I'm trembling. Jittering. Like a bobble head on top of a washing machine filled with bricks. I bounce up and down on Aaron's cock with my ass while I come, and suddenly, it's too much even for him.
He pushes me face down into the mattress and spreads my ass with both of his hands. It lets him fuck me even deeper, and my body falls more and more in love with him with every trust.
"Chloe," Aaron growls as my fingers twitch against the sheets. "I didn't tell you to stop touching yourself."
I exhale in disbelief. It's all I can do. The rose between my teeth prevents me from talking back to him, so for once, I don't have a snarky comeback prepared. I'm so lost in pleasure that I'm not sure that my head could even pull one together if I wanted to. In that sense, I'm thankful.
I don't have to be smart right now. I don't have to be clever or charming or seductive. Being with Aaron simplifies my world infinitely. It's why it's so fucking good.
He already knows that I'm fucking amazing. And when we're done fucking, I know we'll pick up exactly where we left off: being madly in love with each other.
But right now, all I have to do is enjoy myself, take cock, and come.
I can't think of a greater luxury anywhere in the whole fucking world.
He smacks my ass again. This time, I'm quick to respond. My clit is still so sensitive from the last orgasm that touching it is like playing with fire. I can feel the pathway of every nerve ending on my clit branching all the way up through my womb, prickling and bristling with every touch. My cunt feels white-hot. It's burning so intensely, it almost feels cold.
Aaron makes me burn for him. It's the most visceral thing I've ever felt. He makes my body respond to him like I was programmed to take pleasure from his touch. When he smacks my ass again, I do exactly that.
The orgasm erupts against my fingers like a goddamn volcano. My cunt is gushing sweet, hot honey and my whole body is spasming again, so hard that tomorrow morning, more than just my ass is going to be sore.
"Don't stop," Aaron commands, slamming into my ass as I come for him.
"P-please," I say through the rose in my teeth.
I can't come for him again. There's no fucking way. The orgasms I've already had have left my head swimming and my body drunk on pleasure. My clit is so sensitive and swollen and sore that even the slightest touch will send me over the edge all over again.
"You'll come when I say you come," Aaron growls. "And you'll stop when I tell you to stop."
With what few wits I still have about me, I fucking laugh. I shake my head against the mattress and, like the good slut I am, I slip my fingers between my legs and get back to work.
Goddamn, I love this man. When it comes to Aaron, there's no pleasure too great. No luxury worth denying. And no such thing as an orgasm too many.
I don't know if he comes in my ass during the eighth orgasm or the fifteenth. Could be the twentieth. Honestly, after a certain number, it's just too much to count, so I stop trying. I just ride the pleasure. Let it hit me, take me, pull me under and hold me there until I forget my own name.
But I don't forget Aaron's. It's his name that I'm moaning when he pumps me full of his hot, creamy cum. It's his name that I'm still whimpering, half-giggling, half-sobbing as he pulls out of my ass, wipes the cum still coating his rod on my thigh, and gathers me up in his arms.
I don't start thinking again for long while after. Instead, I just lay there. Basking in the glow. Luxuriating in his warmth. Aaron has the thick, muscular arms of an Olympic athlete and the warm, sexy mouth of the man I love.
After an indefinite amount of time, he gently eases the rose out from between my teeth and tucks it behind my ear instead. We spoon, watching the room pass us by as the bed continues to spin.
Roses along one wall. Roses along the other. Roses piled up against the third, and on the fourth, a big floor-to-ceiling window with roses reflected into it. On the other side of that window, New York City sprawls out before us. Bright little lights, glowing through the night.
"You okay, Chloe?" Aaron asks me.
His lips press against my shoulder, trailing kisses from my neck to my arm. I take a deep breath and wait for something clever to come out, but for once, there's no witty comeback to snap him with.
Instead, I just burrow deeper into his embrace.
"I'm good," I reassure him. "Just, y'know. Thinking."
"Thinking about what?"
I laugh, pressing a kiss into his forearm.
"It's silly. It's just…for once, I'm not actually thinking about anything. No, Mr. BadBoy."
"No, Ms. Winters," Aaron adds with a chuckle.
"Not work or clients, nothing at all." I furrow my brow a little. "I'm not quite sure what to make of it."
"Is it so bad? Feeling like that?"
I consider it for a second and shake my head.
"Actually, it feels pretty good. Weird, but good."
"Weird but good," Aaron repeats. "That pretty much sums up our entire relationship."
I smile against his arm as he shifts behind me. Every place where my skin touches his is warm and happy and light.
"You know, Chloe…you haven't even seen the bathroom this room has yet." There's a little playfulness in Aaron's voice that makes me wonder what he's getting at. "The bathtub is supposed to be pretty magnificent…but I hear writers do some of their best thinking in the shower."
He moves against me, and I feel his cock hardening again already.
My smile widens even more.
"That sounds like a theory that I'd like to test out."
Thank You For Reading
We have included some extra novels for your reading pleasure.
Caught On Tape by Daphne Dawn and Natalie Knight
Painting Her by Natalie Knight
Taste by Natalie Knight
Double Dealing by Daphne Dawn
Double Feature by Daphne Dawn
Caught On Tape
You like me hard and fast? Or slow or steady?
That’s the best part of having me on tape.
You can rewind and play back
Have me over and over. And over again.
You’ve heard about my exploits.
The tabloids and newspapers can’t get enough of me.
I mean, neither can you.
Women can’t get enough of me
With my roguish eyes and cut body.
They throw themselves into my open arms.
Before you know it, I got you sighing.
A few more minutes, and I got you screaming.
Moaning. Thrashing.
Life altering.
That’s what it’s like to be with me.
That’s what the videotape captured. For the whole world to see.
Now, Mr. Golden Boy is in scandal city.
My career is on the line.
I need to find a way out.
That’s where Sophie comes in.
I’m going to use her to fix my image.
Cute little starlet with the purity that's never been touched.
Has no idea what the Big Bad Boy Action Hero is going to do to her.
Because you know what they say.
Ain’t no business like show business.
And I know she can’t wait to get her hands on my…business.
Todd
I just became the lead story on CNN. Fox News has a therapist analyzing what happened, and TMZ is running the same clip of me over and over, ad nauseum.
It’s all lies, of course. But it doesn’t matter because most people d
on’t have an appetite for the truth, anyway; in a sense, it’s like an unwelcome guest at a dinner party. What people want is gossip, rumor, and innuendo.
And the media is more than happy to oblige. Anything to goose their fucking ratings.
Jordan Ray, my public relations agent, a man I pay an obscene amount of money―which is most of the money he earns―is sitting across from me. He seems to think I’m in need of some damage control.
We’ve been working together since the day my career took off, six years ago. And the truth is that he has gotten me out of a lot of situations I didn’t think even a fairy godmother could extricate me from. But this time, I don’t agree with how he wants to handle it.
This…this…shit I’m seeing on Access Hollywood―the only thing I can do is scream at the ninety-two-inch screen mounted over the marble fireplace in my office. And I still don’t feel any better afterwards.
Jordan patiently waits, tapping his fingers on the shiny mahogany. It’s obvious from the expression on his face that he has something to say. But I’m not interested in that right at the moment; I’m still pissed off and need to get the anger out of my system.
“Go fuck yourself!” I scream at the screen, loud enough to practically blow it off the wall.
Jordan clears his throat, and I finally stop pacing and join him at the table. I nod, as if to say, go ahead, take your best shot. And he does.
“I tried to stop you. You couldn’t keep your fucking hands to yourself?” Jordan yells as he stands and begins pacing the length of the room.
I’m so not in the mood to listen to this. I want to walk around the table, pick him up by the lapels of his thousand-dollar suit and toss him out the window.
Yeah, I know, he’s my best friend and the best PR man in town. I also know I’m lucky to have him. But what he’s telling me to do…it just doesn’t work for me.
“Jordan,” I say in my most commanding voice before giving a slight look at the chair.
It’s all I need to do. With that one gesture, I communicate that he needs to shut up, sit down, and listen to me―I’m an actor, so I know how to command any situation. I’m good at what I do, and he stops and sits.
