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When I walked into the bedroom, I found her waiting for me.
A lamp across the room was lit, so the light hit her subtly where she lay posed on the bed, dressed in a teddy, garter, and black stockings with matching pumps. She reclined, bright lipstick on those plump lips. Hopefully she had more in her purse because all that color would be around my dick in the next few minutes.
My conversation with Benton was forgotten the second I looked at her.
“Goddamn.” I yanked my shirt over my head and worked on my jeans. “Get your ass over here.”
She obeyed, moving to her knees on the rug, her plump tits pushed together in the lingerie she wore.
I tugged my bottoms down until my cock came free. My hand gripped her neck and my fingers squeezed harder than I should, but she went with it, opening her mouth and flattening her tongue. I shoved my dick inside her mouth, giving her no time to prepare for the assault on her throat.
She gave a muffled gasp, her mouth full of dick.
With my fingers on her neck, I thrust in her mouth, sliding through the saliva that instantly pooled against her cheeks. “Let me show you exactly who you are dealing with, sweetheart.” Ruthlessly, I skull-fucked her, barely giving her the opportunity to breathe. I conquered this land like a goddamn conquistador, made sure she would think of me every time someone new shoved his little dick in her mouth.
She not only handled the savagery—she loved it. With saliva dripping down her chin and red cheeks, she could barely contain my pounding dick, but she seemed to love it all the same because her eyes were locked on mine—begging for more.
“Here it comes…” I slowed down my pumps and held her steady as I found my release, coming right on her tongue. Watching her taste my load and swallow it only heightened the euphoria that sent waves of pleasure down my spine. “Show me.”
Her makeup was fucked up now. The tears had streaked her mascara and eyeliner. Her lipstick was all over my dick. But she looked better—in my opinion. She stuck out her tongue for me, showing me that she’d swallowed it all.
My dick was still hard like nothing had happened. I wasn’t surprised the first or second time we were together because I had been that hard up. But now, it kept going, like those other nights were just warm-ups.
I untied my boots and kicked them away as she got into position on the bed. She lay on her back, her body propped up on her elbows, looking at me as she waited. I finally got my jeans all the way off then crawled up her body, my narrow hips fitting between her soft thighs. I gathered her legs and folded her underneath me, sinking inside her tightness and giving a moan in pleasure. “Fuck, sweetheart… I missed you.”
* * *
I was propped against the headboard with her sexy thighs straddling my hips. With her hands gripping my shoulders, she rocked her hips and ground against me, pressing her clit against my pelvis, rubbing her ass on my balls.
She came over and over again, her eyes locked on mine, using me as a goddamn sex toy.
What an honor.
Her head rolled back as she finished another round, her palms sliding through the sweat on my chest. Her nails were manicured—painted maroon—and they scratched my skin and made the salt burn the wound. When she finished, she looked at me again, her sexy body shiny with perspiration. “You can come now.”
I’d had to wait and watch her get off over and over, unable to join her until she gave her permission.
Fuck…this woman.
I learned I had the restraint of a monk to have my hard dick ridden by the wettest pussy I’d ever known, again and again, and all I could do was sit there and breathe through the pain. Yes, pain.
She rocked into me again, grinding her hips, gripping her tits in my face.
It didn’t take much for me to come. Just her permission was all it took. I released, letting my come mix with hers. The climax was so intense after edging myself for so long, letting her get off time and time again.
It felt damn good.
I relaxed against the headboard and closed my eyes briefly. Once the sex was over, I was suddenly aware of how hot I was, how sweaty my skin was. We broke apart, her taking a spot beside me while I headed into the bathroom and took a cold shower.
I was rubbing the bar of soap across my body when the door opened and she joined me, her hair in a high bun to stay dry. She dipped her head back and let the water run over her face, washing away the rivers of makeup.
As I rubbed the bar of soap across my chest, I watched her rinse, seeing the sweat disappear and goose bumps form. Her tits tightened, and her nipples hardened from the cold. She pulled away from the water and squirted body wash into her hand before she scrubbed away all the makeup.
Her eyes didn’t pop. Her skin had faded marks from old acne scars. Her lips didn’t look as plump without their usual color. But her jawline was still elegant, her neck slender and fair, her eyelashes thick. Unlike most women, she didn’t need makeup to be beautiful. It simply enhanced what she already had.
When she felt my stare, she looked at me.
I held up the bar of soap. “May I?”
