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Our eyes lock as I lick the pearl of moisture at the head, taking him deeper as I fist the heavy bulk of him. I lick and suck him greedily. Messily. I want him to come hard and quick.
“Fuck,” he growls.
I ease him out a little, playing with him, flicking the underside of his cock with my tongue. “Come in my mouth.”
“Jesus Christ, Texas.”
“Do it. Fuck my mouth. Give it to me.”
His eyes flash with lust. “I’m not coming unless you are, baby girl. Come here.”
I climb up his big body like someone spiked my wine with nympho pills, rubbing myself against his huge cock, wetting the thin cotton of my nightie. He peels off my panties and pushes my nightie up over my breasts, teasing my nipples with his rough fingers. I straddle him and grab his thickness, guiding it to my slippery pussy. My whole body feels like one big heartbeat. I slide down onto him, impaling myself by slow degrees as we both moan.
I ride him slowly at first, bouncing down onto him as I squeeze my inner muscles around him until he’s murmuring the dirtiest words.
I fuck him like I’m mad at him. And I am. He’s breaking my heart by being so damn beautiful. He’s so masculine and I hate that about him as much as I love it. I know he’s going to hurt me with it eventually and I want to hurt him first.
But my frenzy is only getting us hotter. Cash Maddox turns me into an animal.
We’re staring into each other’s eyes, his cock thick and rigid inside me, skewering me in slick glides. I can feel every ridge and every vein.
It’s just sex, I remind myself. Very, very good sex. You don’t need him. You just love fucking him.
He grips my hips and thrusts harder. His thumb circles my clit. The hand that’s gripping my ass explores intimately, probing and gliding gently as he continues to drive in, and in.
“Ace,” I whimper.
“Look at me when you come around my cock,” he commands.
“Oh.” The pleasure is centered where his fingers play, forced higher by the thick glide of his cock deep inside me. It radiates like a throbbing, blooming, white-hot explosion of stars until I’m completely consumed by it. I come so hard I can only writhe onto him. My body is locked in extreme rapture, squeezing him tightly in rippling pulls that milk his cock lusciously.
“Fuck,” he growls. “Tex oh fuck…oh fuck.” His cock surges, bucking inside me as I ride it. The warm, flooding throb of his jetting cum tips me into another rich, nearly-unendurable orgasm.
“Ace. Ace. Oh god. Oh god.”
I come and come, finally collapsing against him as the waves get longer and sweeter and begin to calm.
“Holy fuck, you’re beautiful. My perfect girl.” We’re both panting.
He holds me in his arms, smoothing my hair. I can feel the moisture dripping down my thighs from the overflow.
He’s ruining me, body and soul. I can feel it happening. I love him too much.
I allow myself a few more minutes of closeness. I breathe in the scent of him, that woodsmoke and whiskey blend, spiced with hot sex. Our heartbeats are in sync.
And that little mantra that’s so much a part of who I am and the life I’ve lived whispers, protect yourself or you’ll never, ever recover from him.
I slowly lift myself off of him, letting the gush of liquid drip down my legs. My nightie—which was bunched up over my breasts—falls back into place, barely covering the tops of my wet, bruised thighs. “Ace?”
“Yeah?”
“I meant what I said though.”
“About what?” His cock is still semi-hard—it never seems to fully go down—all glistening and laying there innocently now but still so…impressive.
“I want you to go.”
“Go where?”
