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“Need to hear you say it.”
“I want you inside of me. Making love to me,” I say.
He sneers. “I don’t make love, Nia. I just fuck. No strings, remember?”
I nod, but the man in front of me isn’t the same one I made the arrangement with. This man is darker, more dangerous, and possibly more brutal. What have I gotten myself into?
“Let me hear you say it, Nia.”
My arousal is getting the best of me. This take-charge, commanding side of him is a turn-on, but I can’t let him know.
“Fucking say it!” he commands.
“No strings. Just sex,” I moan.
He grunts his approval, and I see his dick twitching. I know that he must want me as bad as I want him.
Reaching up, he unties my hands and says, “Tonight is just you and me. I can’t promise that for the future. Tonight, you can see, touch, and taste me. That may be different tomorrow night.”
I nod and briefly wonder what he means by tomorrow night. I haven’t agreed to see him again. Before I can answer him, he shoves his erection inside of me, knocking the air from my lungs. It’s so forceful yet so pleasurable.
He’s stretched me beyond what I thought that I could bear. Kincaid keeps rocking until he’s seated deeply inside me, possessing and owning me. His hips rock forward, pushing further and deeper than I could have ever known was possible, and it feels as if he’s ripping my insides.
Just as I reach up to touch him to balance myself from rocking and reeling, he leans forward and grips my neck tightly in his palm. I blink several times, trying to catch my breath as he rocks deeper, expanding my sex and making me swell around him.
“You’re so fucking soft and wet, Yesenia,” he groans.
My mouth opens, gasping for air, and he releases just a bit and slides himself slightly out of me. As I get comfortable, he propels himself forward again and once more knocks the wind from my lungs.
My pussy tightens around him, and my legs lift to wrap around his back. He leans forward, resting his body on mine and drives so deep within me.
I don’t think we can get any closer, but he reaches back and tugs on my legs, forcing me to break the hold. My eyes open, and he says, “Get those fucking legs back.”
When I do as he says, he grabs the heels of my feet and presses them even further back until I feel my asshole pucker open so wide I worry it will split open. His lips clamp down on mine, and he bites my lips and tongue.
There is nothing gentle about how he’s fucking me; it feels so intense.
Kincaid slides out of me and stands, pulling me off the bed and to my feet.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
He presses me against one wall that isn’t holding all the sex toys and says, “I want you every way I can have you.”
Grabbing my right leg, he lifts it from the floor, draping it over his arm. He dips down and thrusts inside of me hard and fast. His movements are erratic and untimed as he continues to pump deeper.
“You make me fucking crazy,” he moans, biting down on my neck while his free hand moves in front to cup my sex before it travels up my body, gripping my breast and twisting it.
With every thrust, I feel he’s about to rip me open. Still, the pain, while excruciating, is also extremely pleasurable. I find that I don’t want this to stop.
Sex with Kincaid isn’t like anything that I’ve ever experienced before. There’s no vanilla here. When he pulls out again and releases me, he spins me around, grabbing my other leg and loops it over his arm.
His hand goes to my neck, squeezing tight while pumping inside me. I feel myself swelling around him as though to claim and keep him inside. Even my body feels how my mind does. I don’t want to let this go. I don’t want to let him go.
I pulse all around him, unable to hold off my orgasm any longer. When I cum it’s intense and violent. Only the force of his thrusts keeps me upright, and his refusal to pull out completely keeps me impaled.
Kincaid rides me hard and deep, and when my body feels as if it’s about to break from the intense and hard fucking that he’s given me, he finally cums with a guttural groan.
His chest rises and falls in deep heaves, and sweat covers our bodies. My hands go up to the back of his head, cupping it and pulling him close. Our kiss isn’t anything that dreams are made of. A snarl escapes his throat as he bites down on my lips and tongue.
