Boomer

by K. L. Savage

A bright crimson color creeps down her neck from my statement.

  The only thing scarlet about Scarlett is the flush that takes over her cheeks when she wants me. If she is really ready, I’ll handle her with the delicate ease she deserves, and I’ll see just how far that flush really goes.

  “Do you?” I ask her again, wanting to hear her say the words. I need to hear them, or I won’t believe her; no matter what her body tells me.

  You won’t be good enough for her. You won’t be able to please her. She can do better. Go back into the ocean. Spare her.

  “Yes, Jenkins. I want you. I want this.”

  But my judgment is clouded from the thoughts. Her words are distorted as I try not to listen to my own worst enemy. I try to remember the conversation with Doc after I revealed everything that happens me with.

  He calls them obsessive intrusive thoughts. They’re O.C.D. tendencies and can cause severe anxiety, which might be another reason I wasn’t able to get an erection for so long. He gave me medicine, and I have to take it once a day for the rest of my life. It takes two weeks to work, and I just have to keep pushing through.

  “Come back to me, Jenkins.”

  My name falling from her lips and her hands pressing against my bare chest lift the fog. The thoughts retreat, and when I look down to see her soft palms against me, I know when I want to truly feel at my best, her hands have to be on me.

  “I’m here, sugar. I’m right here.” I grab her hand and lift it to my mouth, kissing the slender, precious digits. Gently, I lay her arm beside her and lift the hem of her shirt to reveal smooth skin. Some patches are still pink from where it was raw, but it’s healing nicely. I inch her shirt up, revealing more of her slender body. Her ribcage comes to view and with every inhale, the bones that protect the most sacred part of her can be seen.

  My hands are so big, my fingers nearly touch from how small her waist is. So fucking small. What if I hurt her? Tool is an ass. I do not have a small cock, and now I know she’s wondering if I do, just like he wanted. I know once I drop my pants, the small bit of worry in her head will ease, but I want to kick Tool’s ass for even making her think it.

  Her face is hidden for a moment when I pull off her shirt. That long raven hair lays to the left across the mattress, reminding me of a pool of ink, so shiny, so dark. I forget how to breathe when I see her laying there in her bra, a simple black one that makes her skin look as pale as the moon. It’s the bra I got her. I’ll never forget asking the sales associate for help looking for a bra. I was the only man in the store, but the way it pushes her tits up, I’ll say I did a great fucking job.

  I place another kiss on her lips, keeping it languid and gentle. Part of me wants to give her a chance to say no, to come to her senses, but the other part of me has to feel her. My fingers feel for the clasp and unsnap it. I push away, breaking the kiss, and slide the straps down her arms.

  “Goddamn,” I groan when the palm-sized tits finally show. She’s perfection. She really was ripped from my imagination, a wet dream come to life. Her nipple is a dark red, the size of a quarter and tightened, begging for my mouth.

  And that flush? It stops at her chest. I lean down and press my lips between the valley of her breasts, feeling the strong thump of her heart beating against the flesh of my mouth. She trusts me with this, trusting me to cherish it and take care of it. I will. I’ll make her heart beat stronger every day with my effort to love her more, love her harder, until she fucking flies.

  I cup her tits, and my head falls back on my shoulders as the soft tissue presses against my palms. I knead them, plucking the nipples and tugging them, bringing soft moans from Scarlett.

  Jesus Christ.

  I want to record those noises and listen to them on repeat.

  “Jenkins.”

  Fuck yes, I want to record that too, the sound of my name filled with lust and need. She fucking needs me, and that nearly makes me come in my jeans. I’m about to burst. I can’t wait any longer. I fall forward and slam my lips against hers, touching her body with vigor, pawing at her like a damn dog. I unbutton her jeans, never breaking the kiss, and her arms wrap around my neck, pressing her lips harder against mine. She sucks my tongue into her mouth, and I swear to fucking god, it’s a direct link to my cock.

  I moan down her throat, my eyes rolling back to see the black nothing of my skull. I imagine her doing that to my cock, sucking me deeper into her mouth like a greedy little whore. I have to break the kiss to get her pants off, and the damn things are so tight, they’re suctioned to her.

  “What the fuck,” I growl when the pants won’t get past her thighs, which are thick and curvy, and all I want to do is sink my teeth into them.

  She giggles, covering her mouth with her hands as she laughs at me.

  “Oh, you think that’s funny?” I taunt her. “You think it’s funny to leave my cock hard and your pussy wet because your pants won’t come off?”

  “Mmmhmm,” she hums, reaching for my chest and rubbing my pecs.

  “Joke’s on you, sugar.” I reach into my back pocket and take out a knife that Tongue gave me a few years ago. I don’t use it much, so I know it is sharp, and it’s going to cut right through those damn pants. She’s never allowed to wear shit like that again. If it isn’t accessible for my hands and my cock, then she can’t wear it. “You trust me?”

  Her throat moves as she gulps. Her chin touches her chest in a slow nod, and her big blue eyes are so wide that I see the whites of her eyes. The sharp metal gleams against her pupils, and that demonic part of me shakes with how beautifully fucked up it looks.

  I make a mental note to make sure I lavish her neck with kisses and maybe leave a few marks. Show her off a bit when I take her out and when guys see my mark on her, they’ll know to back the fuck off.

  Pinching the waistband of her pants, I press the blade against it, one side against her skin, the sharp side against the constricting, illegal pants that I never want to see again. The rip of denim rips sounds, and when I’ve enough of it cut, I throw the knife somewhere off to the side and grab the jeans with my hands, then yank.

  They tear all the way down to the ankle, and her legs are longer that I thought. I can’t wait to have them wrapped around my hips as I pound into her, her heels digging into my ass with every quick curl of my hips.

  Now all that’s left on her are cotton panties and they’re wet, showing the curves of her lips. “You’re a goddamn vision, sugar. I bet that pussy is going to taste so sweet, I’ll be addicted and never be able to get enough.”

  “I hope not.” Her hands fall to her sides and grip the sheets when my fingers curl into the thin band and yank, shredding them until they’re tattered pieces of cloth in my hands. I lean between her legs, hug her lips with my arms, and pull her down on my face, burying my nose into the slit of her pussy.

  “Oh fuck, you smell so good.” I rub my nose between her folds, and her bare cunt rubs against my face. My sugar must have shaved for me.

  “Jenkins, please. I need you.”

  I need her too, so damn much; it’s a visceral need that I depend on to keep me sane. I don’t wait any longer, I spread her lips and flatten my tongue, licking from the back to feel her puckered star, to the front where her clit rolls beneath me. I moan, sucking the sweet piece of candy in my mouth and nibble it. She arches her back and wraps her arms around my back, digging her sharp nails into my skin. I feel my flesh give and break, and my cock punches against my zipper, loving the slight pain.

  I reach down and unzip my pants and push them off, then realize I forgot to take off my boots. “Fuck. Hold on, I need to take off my boots, sugar.”

  “No! Just get inside me, please.” Scarlett sounds like she’s on the verge of tears.

  I fall forward and brace my arms on either side of her body and settle between her legs. “You sure? No going back, sugar. You’re mine.”

  “I never want to be anyone else’s.”

  I want to believe her, but I don’t know if it�
�s lust talking or truth.

  I’m going with truth because it’s my own.

  “Wait.” She pushes me off her, and for second, I worry I hurt her. She eyes my cock and smiles, plopping down on the bed. “Thank god. You’re huge. I was scared.”

  “I’m going to kill Tool,” I say through tight teeth, feeling the need to beat the living shit out of him.

  “Don’t think of him. Think of me.” She grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in for another kiss. I settle between her legs again, feeling those long limbs wrap around me, and it feels just as good as I thought. We’re anchored together, and in one hard thrust, I sink into her, lodging my cock in her awaiting depths.

  “Jenkins!” she yells, and her pussy clamps around me already. My eyes cross from the immense pressure of the tightness massaging me, and her body shakes from her quick orgasm. “Oh my god,” Scarlett moans, plucking her nipples with her fingers as she licks her lips. “Yes, Jenkins, you feel so good. Make me come again. Just the feel of you inside me set me off. I want more. Give me more.”

  She sounds like a fucking porn star, and Scarlett ruts her hips against me impatiently, fucking herself on my cock.

  “Jesus, that’s it. Ride my cock, sugar. Use me,” I urge her, straightening my spine to watch my cock slide in and out of her tight heat. Fucking hell, my cock is soaked from the drag of her pink lips sucking me.

  I’m not going to be able to last much longer. It’s been too long, and she feels too fucking good. Her ass is off the bed, her back against the mattress, and she tosses her head left and right as she takes her pleasure, as she claims what is hers.

  Me.

  “Oh fuck,” she shouts. “Yes, Jenkins. Yes! Your cock is so fucking good.” She grits her teeth as she slams her pussy down on me harder, my heavy cum-swollen sack slapping against her ass. She has a filthy mouth in bed. I fucking love it. “You’re going to make me come.” She purses her lips on a moan, and my spin tingles, swirling my lower belly with my orgasm. “Jenkins! Jenkins!” She lifts her hips off me and thrusts down on me one more time. “Best fucking dick ever. Yes, Jenkins.”

  That’s it. We’re making videos so I can relive every time we fuck because she’s too hot, and I need a reminder of how the hell I have a woman as fiery as her beneath me right now.

  My cock is suddenly drenched, my balls dripping with her nectar. She used me, and now I’m going to use her. I yank my cock out of her, flip her over, and stare at her round ass for a second. My cock is pointing straight to her entrance, and I want nothing more than to bury my face in her and eat her puckered hole as I scissor fuck that tight cunt.

  But I need to come, and her pussy feels too good to wait much longer. I slap her ass, and she yelps, but it’s followed by a high-pitched whine as she waves her ass in the air to get another slap. Her skin is already pinking up from the first one, and my cock leaks come from the sight.

  Not pre-cum.

  White drops of fucking cum because she has me so close to the edge.

  I press my hand against her shoulder blades to hold her down and slide home in one stroke. “Fucking hell, never in my life has as pussy felt so good, sugar. I’m going to fuck you ever day.”

  “I’m going to be the only pussy you ever fuck, Jenkins,” she snarls, angry like a jealous girlfriend, and something about that rubs me the right way.

  I slap her ass again, slide my hand up her side until I grip her hair, using it like reins as I fuck her hard, relentless, and ruthless.

  “You’re going to take every drop, aren’t you, sugar? Every drop of my cum? You’re going to drink me up because your cunt is so thirsty for me.”

  “Yes,” she says at the same time she clutches the sheets in her hand to hold onto to something to keep her steady.

  I’m grunting, sounding like a feral beast as I hammer inside this sweet body. Our skin slaps, and her moans are loud. No way no one can hear us. The walls are thin, and that makes me fuck her harder, cranking up her noise level just a tad.

  “Jenkins, I’m-I’m—”

  “Do it! Come all over me again.” Because I’m about to shoot my seed so far inside her, she’s going to be seeping with my cum for days.

  Her pussy spasms around me again, and I scratch my dull nails down her spine, slick with sweat. “Scarlett!” I thrust in deep. “Sugar, oh, fuck!” I moan each word as my fucking soul leaves my body while hot jets of come leave me, my orgasm nearly changing the reality I see around me.

  With every rope that speeds from me, my hips spasm to get my cock in deeper, doing what my natural instincts want me to do.

  Fuck.

  Claim.

  Breed.

  17

  Scarlett

  “Come on, sugar. Wake up. I need to introduce you to everyone,” Boomer croons at me as his fingers run through the tangles of my hair.

  “No,” I grumble, flipping over in the opposite direction. I’m not a morning person. I’m not really an afternoon person either. It’s takes me five hours to really wake up and get on with my day. “Go ‘way,” I slur with sleep, wanting to get back to my dream.

  “Sorry, sugar. I can’t do that. We need to meet with the guys. Your friends will be there, along with Homer.”

  I grab the pillow and throw it at him, then roll to the other side of the bed and get up. My body is aching everywhere, and that’s when I remember all of our rounds of sex last night. Muscles I had no idea could be sore are sore, and my pussy, my god … the bone even hurts. Is it possible to bruise bone during sex?

  “Feeling alright, sugar?”

  “Better than ever,” I say with a yawn, stretching my arms above my head. Boomer’s eyes fall to my bare breasts, and his eyes heat.

  “You’re going to be trouble with a capital fucking T.” He adjusts his erection, and something he said last night comes back to me. He said he hadn’t been able to get an erection before. I wonder why…

  “Hey, Boomer? Can you talk to me about everything? About you?”

  He scratches the side of his head, something he does when something is swirling inside that mind, but I have no idea what it is. I want to be let in. “Yes, just not today.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know,” he says as he hangs his head, gripping the dresser with his hands. “I’m afraid to tell you. Just know I’m a little screwed up in the head, and if that’s too much for you—”

  I lay my hand on his shoulder and kiss the ink there, the flames of a burning home. “I meant what I said. I want to get to know you. I want to know everything. Nothing you say will change that.”

  “I’m not ready to talk about it with anyone.” He turns away from me and snatches a shirt from the drawer.

  “Okay, I won’t push it. I’m sorry.”

  “No.” He exhales and pulls me to him. I smell the fresh bar of soap and a hint of leather against him. It smells so good. Where the leather is coming from is confusing me. Maybe it’s cologne. Whatever it is, I love it. “I’m sorry. Listen, I’m not a great man. I’ll do my best to be what you need, but—”

  My heart sinks when I hear the dreaded word.

  “I’ll never be good enough for you, but I don’t want to ever let you go.”

  I love it when he holds my jaw like I’m a something fragile that can be broken. “You’re my boom,” I whisper, wishing he’d tell me more, but I know if he never did, I’d be okay with it. I’ll love him regardless because I see more of him than he could ever see.

  He might think he’s fucked up, but he’s my kind of fucked up, my mess, and I want him just the way he is—a little crazy and a whole lot of passionate.

  “Scarlett, I’m not Prince Fucking Charming. I’m not a savior. I’m someone’s worst nightmare, and you’re about to find out things about me when you meet my friends, my family, that you might not ever look past—”

  I silence him with my finger and shake my head. “You forget that you’re my Prince Charming. You did save me. Sure, you might not look the part, but you fit it just a
s good, if not better.”

  His forehead falls to mine, and a gust of wind rustles the curtains beside us, breezing over our skin. It’s a cooler day, and it reminds me that I’m still naked and need to get dressed, but Boomer’s fingers dig into the flesh above my ass. “I’m halfway in love with you, sugar. You can’t go saying shit like that.”

  “I can if I’m halfway in love with you too.”

  He smashes his lips against mine, and a quick taste of his tongue makes me whimper. “Get dressed or we'll never leave this room.”

  “Is that so bad?” I tease him, rubbing my finger down the deep divot of his pecs.

  “No, but if we don’t go out there now, I’ll get my ass whooped, and I’m really debating if it will be worth it because you look so fucking hot naked right now. Go.” He slaps my ass, and I yelp, running away from him, a loud laugh falling from my lips.

  I grab a sundress off a hanger and slip it over my head. It’s simple. A flowy black skater-dress. It falls a little lower than my mid-thigh and since my breasts are small, a bra isn’t needed. I throw my hair up in a messy bun and brush my teeth. “K, I’m ready!”

  “I didn’t see you put on panties.” He lifts a brow at me, licking his lush lips.

  I sashay my hips as I walk toward him. “Because I didn’t.”

  A loud, frustrated groan leaves him, and he pushes the dresser he put against the door last night away, and the door falls immediately to the ground. “Let’s go, sugar. You’re about to drive me fucking nuts which says something.”

  When I’m outside, I notice the gray skies and how they’re rolling above the water, sucking in that moisture to prepare for rain. Another gust of wind comes, and it blows up my dress. Boomer’s hands land on my ass, gripping the cheeks, and I fall back against him, rubbing my bare rear over his hard cock.

  “Anyone could see this, you know.”

  “Isn’t it fun?”

  He spins me around, picks me up, and slams me against the motel wall. “Let me tell you something—you’re mine. No one else can see you, any part of you, and if you want to show your ass, you’re only going to show it to me. And then I’m going to fuck you to show you that you’re mine.”