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“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps thickly against my ear. “I can feel your greedy little pussy squeezing my cock so tight.”
His hand slips from my hair and slides to my neck. And when his strong, powerful fingers wrap around my throat, suddenly, I know I’m about to lose all control.
“Now be a good girl for me, and fuckingcomeon that fat fucking dick.”
It’s like the entire world erupts under my feet. It’s like the sun explodes, blinding me and engulfing me in liquid fire. My entire body wrenches and spasms, the orgasm ripping through every single inch of me as my eyes roll back.
His mouth crushes to mine, suffocating me but also giving me air—swallowing my screams of pleasure as he groans savagely and sinks deep inside of me. His cock surges and pumps, spilling his cum deep inside as he holds me tight against him.
As his lips sear to mine.
As I lose any and all control and completely lose myself in him.
27
Melody
My head dropsback as I cry out, my face crumpling as my nails dig into his chest. His hips thrust hard, burying his swollen cock deep inside of me as I crash screaming over the edge of ecstasy.
Jackson groans, his big hands circling my waist and gripping my ass hard enough to leave bruises as he follows me into oblivion. My back arches, my throat closing with the pressure of my release as I ride him through my orgasm until I’m about to collapse.
And then, I do. Collapse, that is. It’s like someone cuts the strings, and I fall like a rag doll onto his chest. I shudder, trembling and sucking in ragged breaths of air as his arms circle me and hold me tight. My head swims as I sink into him, my cheek against his skin.
Holy.Fuck.
Everything hurts. Everything is sore, and achy, and tender. Which is probably because I’ve spent almost the entirety of the last three days in bed with Jackson while we screwed each other to within an inch of our lives.
Well, mine, at least. I shudder, my skin sheened with sweat and marred with bruises in the shape of his fingers. I wince as I slide off him and tumble to his side.
Fuckam I sore. I’ve been sore for the last two days. And yet, we’ve kept this fuck-marathon going at an inhuman level for a frankly ridiculous number of rounds in a row—breaking only for the occasional shower, food, and beverages.
It’s as if my pussy is unable to decide anymore if it’s actual sexual need that has me ignoring the pure physical fatigue and spreading my legs around him for a fortieth time, or if it’s just some sort of masochist competitive drive.
Or maybe I’ve just become a full-blown addict for his dick.
Actually, I’m reasonably sure that’s literally what’s happened here. Because I crave him like a fiend every single second of every single day. I crave the possessive way he pins me down andfucksme—not just making love or having sex. When Jackson’s eyes turn that steely blue shade of fire, and his jaw ticks with desire…
Fuck.
It’s like I morph into this dick-crazed addict for him. Moreover, it’s awakened parts of me I’ve honestly never explored, or even really understood about myself. For instance, apparently, for all my usual sass and—admittedly—prickly New Yorker attitude, I’m actually submissive; sexually, that is. Or, at least with Jackson I sure as hell am.
Desperately, eagerly so.
Submissive and possibly a bit of a masochist. Not just because I can’t seem to stay off him even when my body is flagging behind and sore everywhere. But because I think I might actually get offbecauseof that at times.
The way I crumple to shuddering, gasping pieces when he spanks me hard, or when he bites my nipples, with teeth, when he drives into me.
I’m not about to start playing with clothespins and whips or anything. But there’s at least a degree of pain that I think I actually crave in our play.
I should probably look up my old therapist and tell her to go ahead and buy that vacation home.
I shift against Jackson, but this time, I wince in real pain as my legs slide together.
“Ow, fuck…”
His brow furrows in concern as he glances down into my face. I smile weakly.
“Just…sore.”
