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She opened that plump mouth to say something and I crushed it with mine. She made a strangled sound. I slipped my tongue into her mouth. My free hand found the buckle and the zip at the back of her skirt. I slid my hand across the crotch of her panties.
‘You’re so fucking wet.’
I pushed the material to one side and plunged a finger deep into her pussy.
She moaned and arched her body so her breasts pressed into my chest.
I rammed two fingers in. ‘Is this what you came here for?’
She closed her eyes and shuddered. ‘Yes.’
I took off her top. The little half-cup bra I just pushed down. I bent my head and bit the rosy nipple.
‘Dr. Kane,’ she whimpered.
‘My name is Marlow.’
Her eyes fluttered open. They were dilated and smoky with desire.
I added a third finger into the mix.
She leaned her head back against the door and moaned. I pulled my fingers out and slid my track bottoms down my hips. My cock sprang out hard and ready. I lifted her right leg and draped it around my hips so her sex opened up all swollen and wet and hungry. Her clit was engorged and extended. I pinched the hood, pulled it back and exposed her center, small, white, über sensitive and mine. I wanted to suck it. But not yet. Now I was too riled. Too desperate to be inside her.
I grabbed her right thigh and held it so she could not move and I impaled myself on her. It was urgent and merciless and without warning. She screamed. I didn’t stop. I continued to push myself into her until I was balls deep.
I fucked her so hard her body jerked like a puppet. Watching her utterly powerless as she writhed and groaned and slapped into my body was addictive. I loved to see her in that position. Totally open to me. Vulnerable. Totally dominated. I felt Herculean.
‘Oh fuck,’ I growled.
I could feel my orgasm coming so I reluctantly pulled out of her and jerked off all over her blonde curls. Still panting I looked at my handiwork. Like water droplets caught on a spider’s web the milky white drops were all over her. With my hand I streaked it into her skin and gathering some in my fingers held it a few inches from her mouth.
We stared at each other. Her lips were trembling. She leaned forward and I pulled my fingers back and she leaned farther forward and caught my fingers in her mouth. We stared at each other as she sucked my fingers clean.
‘My turn,’ I said and got down on my knees. I threw her thigh over my shoulder and, burying my face in her pussy, slid my tongue into her and lapped at the dripping walls. She grabbed my shoulders and thrust forward desperately. I moved my head back.
‘That’s right, babe. Ride me,’ I encouraged lustily before plunging my tongue back into her throbbing sex. While I fucking devoured her flesh she rocked her hips on my mouth and teeth until she came with a piercing shriek and a rush of goose bumps.
Olivia
We went into his bedroom. More like a monk’s cell. Bare walls, a plain double bed, cheap scratchy sheets, a cupboard and two side tables. He sheathed that incredible cock of his and took me while I was on my hands and knees. It was wild and violent and magnificently beautiful. I tried to catch my breath, but our climax sucked us into a vortex of ecstasy. I shuddered uncontrollably. And when it died away my breath was ragged. I fought back sweet tears, but they would not be checked. The carnal smell of our coupling enveloped us like a fog. He touched a tear glimmering on my lashes wonderingly.
‘You’re so beautiful.’
I couldn’t tell him I was sorry he had not deposited his seed in my womb. That it had not coated my insides and grown into something.
I realized it then. He was my journey home.
He pulled out of me. ‘We have to talk,’ he said.
‘No, we don’t. Let it be just sex for a while. I know it will all probably unravel when you tell me whatever it is you are hiding from me, but for now I’m happy with this. I am asking for nothing more than what I have now.’
‘Oh, Olivia. What a mess I have made of this whole thing.’
‘It’s not your fault. I forced myself on you. And I don’t regret it. Whatever happens I will never regret this.’
He took off his shirt and I saw what I had not noticed the other evening at the office. Located on his fabulously muscular pecs, just over his heart, were two white ink tattoos in the shape of teardrops. They were not beautiful. Not in the least. They reminded me of scars, raised, white and born of pain. I reached out a hand and touched one of them. He flinched, then became still. I looked up at him, my hand hovering in the air. His eyes were deliberately blank.
‘Who are they?’ I asked, but even as the words formed in my throat I already knew.
