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“No, I need you, Joaquin. Please.”
“Babe, we can’t.”
“We can,” she insists. “I need this, Joaquin. I need you, and you need this too.” Her hips stop moving, and she cups my face so our gazes lock together. “Lockdown is over, and you’re more worried than ever. You don’t want to talk to me about it? Fine. Let’s just fuck it out. You and me, hard and fast. Dirty.”
Another refusal is on the tip of my tongue when she slides off my hips and settles herself on the bed, two pillows beneath her to allow her back to arch like a fucking porn star. Her arms rest at her sides, and she glances up at me, a challenging, teasing expression lighting up her eyes.
“I’m waiting, Joaquin.”
“Ah, fuck,” I growl and settle behind her, hands gripping her hips as my cock sinks into her hot tight core. “Willow, babe. You sure?”
In response, she arches her back even more until I’m buried balls deep. “You feel so fucking good. Give us what we both need.”
I start slow, my mind wandering to all the shit that’s fucking with my head. The cops have stopped their investigation into the alleged murder of Cyrus until a body is found, and I know it never will be, so I should relax.
But I can’t.
They found DNA implicating an Iron Kings henchman in the death of Braden and his wife. Maven is free and clear. Everything should be right in the world, but I still feel that it isn’t.
“Willow,” I grunt when her pussy pulses around me, gripping me like a vise. I suck in a deep breath, willing myself to think about this hot cunt wrapped around my cock.
Another breath.
“Don’t hold back. I can take it,” she commands, her hands still at her sides, fingers wiggling in my direction.
I know what she wants, and I grab her wrists, pressing them into the mattress, and I fuck her just how she wants, how I need to fuck her. Hard and fast and dirty.
The only sound in the room is our grunts blending in with the sound of hot, wet skin smacking against skin. I fuck her hard because I need to because she’s here right now and not in some fucking morgue.
I fuck her fast because her tight pussy is my kryptonite, because she’s begging me to, and I can’t seem to deny her a fucking thing.
I fuck Willow long and hard, her cries and grunts tearing through the early morning silence like a wild woman. She’s here, and she’s healing. She’s fine. Safe.
“Joaquin, oh fuck, yes!” She’s squirming and clenching tight around my cock, and I slow my strokes to prolong our pleasure.
“Fucking tease,” she growls and arches a little more. It’s the only movement she makes, and that lack of control is driving her crazy and intensifying the pleasure.
I smile at the feral growl she lets out as her pleasure builds. “Fuck, Willow.” The pink flush on her back is so fucking hot I can feel my cock swelling, hardening painfully inside of her. “Babe.”
“Please, Joaquin.”
My eyes slam shut at her soft plea, and my hips move like a madman, sending hard, deep strokes into her wet, pulsating pussy.
She’s okay. She’s here, and she’s fine,I tell myself as I fuck her with everything I have.
Wave after wave of ecstasy crawls up the back of my legs and toward my spine. I’m tingling all over, and I know I can’t hold out much longer, not with the vise grip she has around me.
“Willow,” I growl.
My name falls from her lips like the chorus of her favorite song, over and over in deep, guttural moans as her orgasm explodes out of her body. She’s trembling on the outside and gripping my cock like a fiend on the inside. Finally, my cock explodes deep inside of her.
Those final vinegar strokes make my body tense until the point of pain, and I fill her body, jerking until every last drop is deep, so fucking deep, inside of her.
“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” she gasps as she lets out a nervous laugh, and a shiver runs through her. “Joaquin.”
My hands grip her ass cheeks hard as the last of my orgasm leaves my body, and then I collapse on the bed beside her. “That’s me, babe.”
She smiles over at me, still panting and her skin slick from our sexual workout. “Don’t think I could forget you if I wanted to.”
