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“No. Don’t be,” Marin says pleadingly. “Please. Do it again.”
I kiss her again, tenderly, simultaneously soothing her with one finger between her folds, then two, coaxing her open before I bury my cock inside of her in one long, measured thrust. I’m a well-endowed man and she’s incredibly wet and tight, and I tense up, scared I’ll lose control and hurt her.
But then Marin digs her heels against my butt cheeks, and rocks her hips up, arching her back in time to meet each of my more powerful thrusts. Our eyes lock. She holds me down close to her by the back of my neck. She cries out, brazenly, her walls squeezing my sex like a vise, inspiring me to fuck her the way I want to. Harder, deeper. Fast, until we’re both right at the edge where it feels so good it just about hurts.
I stare in her eyes, seeing her, memorizing every micro expression as she gets closer. I love her body, her skin, her touch, her scent, her sounds. Christ. I feel like I’m floating up, up, like I never have with anyone else. Taking her with me.
Marin makes a throaty noise and a rocket goes off in my chest. My balls clench hard as I feel her body coil tight and then hesitantly unwind, covering me and the sheets in her warm wet deliciousness. Make love to me, Marin’d begged. Now the words echo as the sounds of her climax singe me with bright, burning, unlocked pleasure.
I come hard, ropes of my spend firing out with the force of a wild fireman’s hose. Again, again. Enough cum to paint the walls of this pussy and cover her cervix. We didn’t use protection. There could be a baby. Why do I love the thought of that more than anything I can possibly fucking imagine right now?
My heart pitches to the walls of my throat. Feeling weightless with pleasure and hope and yeah, love, I fall down on top of her. My girl. My Marin. My future, my love.
So much of why things happen the way they do eludes me. Maybe that’s what I love so much about writing books, making up stories. Connecting A to B however I well so fucking please.
But loving Marin…wrong as it may be…now that has been the most rational, most natural thing I have experienced in my entire life. I can’t talk myself out of it. Don’t want to.
“Baby,” I whisper against her honey hair, drawing her closer into my arms.
She says it first. “William, I love you.”
“You do?” I hold her tighter. “I love you, sweetheart. God I love you so much.”
The End
