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I lean down so I’m hovering over her, resting my weight on one fist beside her head. I watch her face as I grip the base of my cock and rub the head against her pussy. When she lifts her hips, trying to fit me inside her, I pull back.
“Patience, baby,” I croon. “Let me play a minute.”
She bites her lip again, as if torn on whether she wants to demand I make love to her now, or continue the sexual torture she’s receiving. I smirk and tap the underside of my shaft against her clit. She shudders, and my cock thickens.
I bend down and run my lips across hers. Her tongue meets mine in a kiss that’s both sweet and hot as hell.
“Jules.” I whisper her name gruffly.
I can feel her legs quiver as she tightens them around me. I notch the tip of my cock at her opening, but only slide the head in. I want this to last as long as possible, and I know if I take her fully in this moment, it’ll end way too soon.
I fuck her with just the tip for several strokes, and she tries her best to bring me down so I’m fully seated inside her. Looking into her eyes, I see desperation and unabashed want.
I brace myself and pull my hips back, pausing only long enough for her eyes to meet mine, before I thrust forward, giving her every bit of myself I have to offer.
When she cries out in ecstasy, she completely and utterly shatters me.
“Theo!”
I SPRING AWAKE WITH a growl on my lips. Anger, pain, and lust fuel the fire burning through my veins. Remnants of the dream flash repeatedly in my mind. It felt so fucking real. So real, I can still feel the indents of her fingers on my shoulders. Even with her calling out Theo’s name at the end, my cock is as hard as steel underneath the sheet.
Dammit, it was my body that lay on top of hers. It was my lips that kissed her, and my cock that breached her tight channel. I’m a fucking fool, but damn it all to hell if I wish it wasn’t true.
Being the sick bastard that I am, I reach down for my cock and grip it tight. Pleasure instantly hits as I slowly slide my fist up and down. I close my eyes and remember the part of the dream that made my dick hard in the first place. Jules, clad only in a pair of white panties and a tank top, looking up at me with hungry eyes. It’s me she’s looking at, not him.
My hand moves faster as I picture her lustful stare and insert my name coming off her lips. It’s twisted to fantasize, but I’m too far gone to give any fucks. My imagination has a mind of its own, and it demands this fucked-up fantasy.
I imagine Jules here with me right now. Behind my eyelids, I see her in my bed and feel her hands running over my body. Her lips and tongue glide across my chest, taking little bites just hard enough to leave a mark behind. My hands explore every inch of her b
ody that I can touch. She moans and whimpers and begs me for more.
My balls draw up with my impending release, much faster than I anticipated. I keep my imagination going, needing this release so goddamn much.
I envision lying on my back with Jules riding my cock. Her nails dig into my chest as her movements become frenzied, trying to find her release. Her hair falls around us when she bends and places her lips against mine. I grasp her hips and hold her in place as I move in a series of quick and short thrusts. I swallow her whimpers. When she sits back and grinds her clit down on my pelvic bone, her walls grip me tight. Her cries are loud and unrestrained, and it’s my name that falls from her lips.
I grunt and lift my hips, my orgasm hitting me strong and suddenly. Warm jets of come land on my stomach. I squeeze my shaft and milk every bit of my release as I can.
Sagging back against the sheets, I take a deep breath. I should feel remorse and shame at jacking off to thoughts of my brother’s wife, but I’m too drained to care. Reaching to the floor, I swipe the shirt I threw there earlier and wipe away the proof of my depravity.
I drop the shirt back to the floor and settle back against the pillow. Closing my eyes, I try to find sleep again, not altogether against having another dream like the one I just woke from, even if the end results of the dream made me want to permanently maim my brother and claim his wife as my own.
Once my body is relaxed and my mind has time to wander, I again wait for remorse to hit me. I’m surprised when it doesn’t. Only a deep-seated need takes root. A need I have no choice but to push away before I turn into a man who takes something that’s not his to have.
I FINISH UP THE FINAL touches to the butterfly tattoo I’m putting on a client. I roll back a foot on my stool and take a critical look, making sure the design came out just as I imagined. Satisfied, I set my machine down on my cart and grab a fresh napkin. Once I fold it, I spray cleaning solution on it and wipe down the tattoo. I toss that one in the trash and grab a second napkin and do it again.
“You’re done,” I tell Whitney, rolling back another couple of feet to give her room to get up. “Go check it out and let me know what you think.”
She gets up and walks over to the tall mirror. She stands sideways and smiles as she looks over the design.
“Wow, Luca. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but every time you amaze me. I fucking love it.”
When she turns back to face me, her bare tits jiggle. I’m a man, so I take notice, but I turn away after a moment. Whitney’s been a regular client of mine for a couple of years and she’s not afraid to tattoo any part of her body. This particular one is on the side of her left breast. Most women would choose to only expose that part of her body. Not Whitney though. When it was time to get started, she unashamedly whipped off her shirt. She came prepared because her bra was absent.
Knowing the drill, Whitney sits back down and lifts her arm. I apply a thin layer of all-natural ointment, then snap off my gloves. As I do with all my work, I grab my phone and snap a picture.
“You’re good to go. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll meet you out front.”
I get up and start to move away, but Whitney’s hand reaches out and snags the waistband of my jeans. I look down at her hand, then to her with raised brows.
