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“Still pretending.”
“I bet you’ve picked their names too.”
“You do know what pretending means, right?” I mock before rolling my eyes. “I should’ve gotten you that damn dictionary.”
He laughs. The sound is so carefree and like music to my ears. A mesmerizing sight. The sunlight streaming through the open balcony makes the green in his eyes look unreal. They are such a unique shade that I always get lost in them.
I graze the crinkle around his eyes with my fingertips, loving the sight of them. My grandma always used to say that one can always tell a person has lived a happy and joyous life by their laugh lines. That every line and wrinkle have a story to tell.
It saddens me because Dash has none. His laugh lines got buried underneath a cold mask to protect what little he had. So now, I just want to make him smile and laugh as much as I can. He says he never had a family. I’ll show him that he finally does.
Me.
Us.
“I will get you to tell me one day, kitten,” he promises with a wink.
My smart-ass retort dies on my tongue when he yanks the blanket to reveal my breasts for his starving gaze. His messy hair teases my collarbone when he bends to lick my nipple lightly, leaving a wet trail as he repeats the sensual motion on my other breast. Restraining my wandering hands, he pushes them into the mattress and plays with my breasts.
Laving. Sucking.Biting.
As if he didn’t spend the entire weekend painting me with his hickeys and finger-shaped bruises, his teeth dig in with the intent to leave more knowing I’ll be wearing them the whole day as a reminder that I belong to him.
“I could feast on these tits for hours, kitten.” He grunts, scraping the sensitive tips with his teeth. I whimper and his mouth becomes rougher until I’m grinding against his hard cock. “So perfect.”
When his grip loosens around my wrist to cup them and circle the hard nubs, I snake my hand between us and wrap it around his thick shaft. He jerks in my fingers and groans loudly when I stroke from the purple crown to the base.
Our foreheads touch and breaths mingle as I stroke him again. A new wave of wetness pools between my thighs when I take in the sight of him. My fingers barely meet as he swells in my hand. It’s a miracle he even fit inside me without bruising my insides. His cock, hitting places I only thought was a myth.
“Squeeze harder,” he growls against my mouth.
I obey and watch pleasure swarm his angular face. I’m unable to look away as I stroke him faster. Precum leaks from the slit on his dick and I rub it over him. His hand palming my breast travels lower and my back bows when he plunges two fingers to the hilt in my core.
“Dash!”
Another sharp and rough thrust. “Keep stroking my dick, you little tease.”
His fingers don’t slow their punishing pace, making it harder for me to focus when all I want to do is succumb to the drugging sensations he’s effortlessly evoking in my body. I slide my hand up and down his length, using his precum as lube.
“Tell me I own this cunt,” he demands harshly.
“You do.”
“Say the words.”
“You.” His fingers thrusts. “Own.”Thrust. “My.”Thrust.“Cunt.”
With every word, he throbs and pulses in my grip, going impossibly hard like they triggered the primal male in him while bringing us both near the edge. He’s unabashedly dominating and animalistic in bed. Every time he growls a dirty command, my pussy clenches while electricity runs down every inch of me.
“Good girl.”
When he hits that secret spot again, stars dance behind my vision. Desperate to come but not without him, I tighten my fingers around his length and stroke him in tune with his ruthless fingers plunging inside me.
Nipping my bottom lip, he grunts, “Tightest fucking pussy. Needy and begging to be filled.”
“Only for you. Give me more. Fill me, Dash.”
His hips thrust in my hand while he flicks my clit in slow and teasing circles. Our bodies become sweaty while his masculine scent drugs me. The wet slapping sounds are like an illicit symphony, driving and urging us higher. So close.
