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Slowly, I face her, panting like a fucking lunatic, but then my eyes clear enough to take her all in. In a little camisole, her nipples are pointed through the fabric. Her bikini line is a smooth strip bracketing little white knickers.
I want to grab her there.
She is already comfortable walking around my house half-naked or is it because we are alone here? I could have this with her. Her and me. No guards. No darkness.
No boxing.
Herand me.
She steps closer, engulfing me with her scent, a floating aroma of body wash and sex and me—a sweating beast of a man. Not the person I want to be with her.
Sighing roughly, relenting, I drop my forehead on her shoulder. She immediately cups the back of my neck. Tears and sweat drip from my brows, down my nose and all over her.
I like it when she’s covered in me.
My cock gets hard instantly, but I’m way too worked up to act on it, knowing I’ll be hard and rough with that tight wet pussy of hers.
“You’re okay, Baby,” she whispers beside my ear, cradling my heavy head against her slim shoulder. “I got you.”
“I’m not okay.”
“I’ve got you, Hothead.” She holds me as I shake with restraint. The exhaustion only fuels my need to push harder. “You’re okay,” she soothes. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I stayed.”
“I’m in pain,” I admit, my throat choked. It’s not only physical. “I can’t give this up.”
“You can still punch the bag.”
“To what end?”
“Get the fight out.”
The fight…I groan, flexing my cock in my shorts. “You smell so”—I nuzzle into her caramel hair, my cock expanding more as I inhale her natural perfume. I exhale the words, “fucking good! I wanted to fuck you. Before—” I hold my arms at my sides, not letting the unpredictable muscles anywhere near my girl right now. “I had to leave.”
She rolls her head against mine. “Would you usually just fuck a girl while she sleeps, Hothead? Is that what you want?”
“I told you, Baby,” I say, my voice dark and deep. Not me. “I don’t hook up with inexperienced chicks for this reason. So, yeah, I would usually fuck them if I felt like this.”
“Do you want to do that with me?” Her voice takes on a purr, the salacious cadence reminiscent of our encounter on the trampoline. Her body may be inexperienced—mine—but she’s dominant in the bedroom. She holds all the cards.
I clench my jaw, my words coming through gritted teeth, gnashing to lock onto something. I shouldn’t say it. But I do. “I want to fuck your eyes open, Baby.”
“Okay.” She presses her body to mine, and I hold my breath, my hands and my muscles that jerk to grasp her hips and bend her over the workout bench. “I consent.”
Fuck.“Don’t say that,” I warn.
“I do.” She rolls against me, her tits squished to my chest, her legs on either side of my thigh, her pussy grinding on me. “I consent. You don’t have to ask. I trust you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I’m not fragile, Xander. I’m the boss of my body. And I consent to be what you need when you need it. Tell me what you need, Xander.”
She slides off me, her eyes locking with mine as I lift my head. A seductive hood narrows her gaze as she circles the boxing bag, her fingers sliding along the leather as she moves.
Leaning against it, I track her slowly swaying body around until she is next to me again.
“Maybe,” she says, gripping the bag with two hands and shaking her backside at me, “You can beat into me instead. To that end. You don’t need the bag. I’ll bethe endfor you.”
Fuck.I lose it.
