Page 100 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

“I’mma get to your ass.” He pants,lifting me and plunging inside. “But just a little pussy first.”

“Yes!” I slide my hands over his shoulders, around his neck,and pull him down to me. His mouth latches on to mine, our tongues sparring asthe tempo of our bodies increases. I lock my ankles at the base of his spine,anchoring him to me. I’m on the verge of another orgasm when he pulls out.

“Dammit, Naz,” I cry, my hips still moving in subtle, shortjerks, seeking him.

He smiles above me, the masculine beauty of his face soarresting for a moment, I almost forget the way my inner muscles are clenchingaround air.

“I got you.” He rains kisses over my cheeks and nose, softfeathering kisses punctuated by a bite at my throat. He loves to mark me, and Ilove carrying the little bruising reminders of our intimacy.

“Shit.” He laughs. “I don’t want Cliff seeing hickeys allover you. Don’t want him to suspect I’m fucking hissister.”

We both laugh at the preposterous joke. We’ve been livingtogether for months and there’s no missing how ravenous we are for each other.

No shame.

I don’t deal in shame ever, and Naz never makes me feel itfor anything I want. And I don’t make him feel shame for what he wants. Wejust, as much as we can, give it to each other. There is a generosity to ourlovemaking I’ve never experienced with anyone else. In one stroke, selfless. Inthe next, greedy. In every iteration, it’s startlingly intimate and alwayspowered by a love so deep and so real, it eclipses those old dreams, thosefirst fantasies and ideals I held before. It is altogether new and more than mymind could have conceived.

“Naz, I need it.” I reach between us to grab his dick.

“Don’t I always take care of you?” His voice is shaded withconfidence, love, desire.

“Yes.”

And he does. I’ve never had to fake it with him because heensures my pleasure. Always makes sure I’ve come at least once before he does.He promised he would spoil me, and I have a box full of jewelry, gifts fromhim. A closet full of clothes and shoes I try to convince him not to buy. Thereare fresh flowers delivered to the house every week. I chose a livelihood thatoften casts me in a supporting role, and I love it. Here, at home, though, withhim, I’m the main character, and the way he spoils me most is with theextravagance of his love.

“On your knees.” His command is a whisper underlined withsteel. A shiver skitters over my spine.

I turn to face the headboard, pushing up onto all fours andspreading my legs so cool air breathes across the wet, hot flesh exposed by theposition. My fists burrow into the mattress as he opens the drawer for thelube. The shock of coolness between my cheeks draws a gasp from me, and mythighs clench, anticipation crawling through my body. Not gonnalie, this shit hurts a little, but it’s so worth it.

He covers me, his big body enfolding mine from behind, hisbroad, muscled torso at my back. His hands find me, first cupping my breast andtweaking the nipples, then wandering between my legs, tending to my clit. My breath hitches, and my body assumes the rhythm ofhis fingers. Leaving one hand on the bed for support, I knead my breast as hisfingers stroke and push inside until another orgasm rocks me, so intense, Ifall from my knees onto my belly and lie there, breaths choppy and heartsprinting in my chest.

“You’re so good,” he says at my ear. “Coming for me so much.It makes me hard when you come like that. Feel?”

He reaches under my stomach, pulls me back to my knees likeI weigh nothing, and lets me feel the iron length of him at my ass.Involuntarily I arch my back, spread my legs, and offer myself to him.

“I’m gonna give it to you now,” hesays, caressing one cheek and then the other. “I love your ass, baby. I thinkabout this pussy, my sweet girl all day. You are a constant distraction.”

As he’s talking, he rubs more lube across my asshole, and my breathing becomes erratic as he pulls mycheeks apart.

“I love you so much,” he says, easing his dick into meslowly.

I clench around the tip, and he draws a sharp breath.

“Shit, baby. Let me in.” He pusheson my shoulder so I fall forward, chest to the mattress. My ass is high in theair as he breaches me by thick inches, and I breathe through the initialdiscomfort, arching my back, opening as much as I can.

“Almost there,” he grunts, his words choked as he pushes tothe hilt.

A shout erupts from me, the shock of fullness I’m not sureI’ll ever get used to. There’s no room for anything but him. He presses onelarge hand to the small of my back, pinning me in place. With the other, hetugs my braids like a rein wrapped around his fist and starts riding.

Drawing back.

Ramming in.

Drawing back.

Ramming in.

Over and over, in and out, until the cadence of it becomesmy heartbeat and a litany of encouragement, of thanks, of praise falls from mylips. Barely coherent, I fumble between my legs, clumsy but desperate to caressmy swollen, soaked flesh.