Page 24 of Fat Enemy Mate

“Don’t what?” He asks.

“Don’t lie to me when I look so messy,” I say, my cheeks burning.

“I don’t see anything messy here, Lara.” He says, running his hand over my jaw, trailing fingers down my neck and teasing the top of my bra, “I only see beauty, and I’ve been seeing that ever since you walked out here that first day with wet hair, wearing these clothes.”

My brain all but short-circuits because I don’t know what to do with that information, and I’m grateful when he doesn’t wait for me to answer, just kisses me again, and walks me a step back so the backs of my legs hit the mattress, and he eases me down onto it. He kneels on the floor between my knees and pulls his shirt the rest of the way off.

He’s huge. I knew he was a big man because he’s carried me, and pinned me against a wall, and I’ve felt his strength, but nothing could prepare me for seeing him shirtless. His shoulders are enormous, and his muscles flex with every movement. He’s covered in scars, new and old, and sitting on the edge of the bed in just my bra, I’m acutely aware of the size difference between us. At nearly 22, I’ve never had a man look at me the way he is now, but instead of being scared, I feel a rush of something else entirely.

“Wilf,” I say, before I can stop myself.

He pauses, his hand on my waist like a brand. “Yes?” He asks quietly.

“I haven’t, erm, done this before.”

He freezes, his hands moving to the outside of my thighs as his eyes come up to meet mine. His expression looks almost calculating, as if he’s weighing something up. It’s an expression full of hunger, but there’s something else too that makes my chest go tight. “I-I don’t want you to stop, I just thought you should know…I…”

He squeezes my thigh, and it distracts me so much I trail off, watching as he breathes slowly before answering.

“Alright,” he says, “Listen. We’ll go slow. I can make this good for you. If you want it.”

I nod. “I do, I want this. You don’t mind?” I ask, hating that I suddenly sound so unsure.

He leans in and kisses me hard and deep, stealing my breath. “I might be a bit of a bastard because I don’t mind at all; in fact, I love it,” he says, and the words go straight to my core. “I’m going to take my time with you, Lara.”

His head dips, and suddenly, he’s kissing my stomach, making my whole body tremble as his hands go to my waistband, and he works the fabric down until I instinctively lift my hips as he slides them off. My underwear goes at the same time, and I hear him groan as my bare skin is revealed.

He immediately puts his mouth to the inside of my bare thighs; the action isn’t tentative, it’s deliberate, and I feel the roughness of his stubble against my soft skin. My hands go into his hair as my body arches, the sensations overwhelming. When he surges forward, parting my legs over his shoulders, I fall backward until I’m lying on the bed, legs spread for him, and his tongue suddenly hits my most sensitive spot. I don’t even recognize the sound I make, but he seems to like it because heburies his face between my legs and alternates between licking and sucking my clit.

His hands are braced on my thighs, holding me open, no matter how much I squirm under his tongue. He switches out one hand for his large shoulder, and I feel his fingers tracing my thighs, the rough edges of his calluses, causing a delicious friction as they move higher, brushing my core.

My entire body bucks when he slides one thick finger inside me, and he groans against my thigh as I feel my channel clamp down on him. “Damn, you’re tight, Lara.” He whispers.

I can’t answer. I have no words. I’m too lost to the feel of him. If his finger can make me feel full, how on earth am I going to take his cock? It’s as if he can read my mind because he adds a second finger slowly as his mouth returns to my clit. Instead of fighting the sensation, my body seems to open more for him, and the second finger slides inside. When he begins to flex them, the pressure in my core builds quickly, and I cry out.

"Wilf,” I breathe. “Wilf, I…”

“I know,” he tells me. “I can feel you’re close. Come for me, Lara.”

My body obeys, and I come so hard that my whole body tenses and I half cry, half beg as he begins to pump his fingers in and out, my orgasm rolling through me until I feel like I can’t take anymore. When he finally slows, I’m left still gripping his hair tightly, and he chuckles, kissing the inside of my thighs, then the line of my hip.

“Look at me, Lara,” he says.

When I open my eyes, he’s looking at me with the kind of hunger I’ve never seen before. He stands and slides off his pants, and his cock springs free. He’s huge, just like the rest of him. Iknew he would be, but knowing it and seeing it are two different things. He’s rock hard, and the tip is dark and flushed; the skin seems to be straining to contain him, and his hand strokes it as he watches me carefully.

“Lara, it will fit,” he says, his voice low and soothing. “If you still want this?”

I drag my eyes up to his again and whisper, “Yes.” Knowing that I do want this, I couldn’t stop now if I tried; my body wants more.

“Good.” He says, looming over me and settling carefully, minding how much weight he puts on me. He braces one forearm beside my head and lowers himself so I feel his weight on top of me. He nudges my legs apart, and his cock lies heavily on my stomach as he leans down to kiss me. I can taste myself on his lips, and I vaguely think that should embarrass me, but I’m too far gone to care.

I feel his hand on his cock, stroking it, and he shifts his weight until I feel the head at my entrance. “Breathe, Lara.” He whispers against my lips.

I breathe, my body obeying him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

He pushes in. Just the tip and the blunt head stretches me like nothing I’ve ever felt before. He pauses, and I feel his bicep tremble slightly next to my face. “More?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“More,” I plead, even though I can feel a burn building in my channel. I grip his shoulders, and he kisses my throat as he pushes forward another inch, and then another. My legs part even more, and I have to shift my hips to accommodate him as my head falls back; a mix of pain and pleasure swamps my body.