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“Fuck,” he growls. “I want to make it feel good.”
I press my fingers to his lips. “I want you to move,” I say confidently. If he doesn’t start fucking me, I’m going to scream. My body adjusts quickly to him, and my skin needs his touch.
He wraps his hand around my wrist and pushes it to the pillow beside my head. Easily he captures my other hand, lacing our fingers together, holding me down as he pulls back, his cock on the verge of leaving me. Before I can protest, he plows forward in another hard thrust.
I groan, but he ignores it and does the same thing; slowly retreats, only to thrust forward. The desire I had moments ago builds into an urgency now, and I can’t be patient.
“More,” I order as I lift my feet from the bed and spread my legs further.
“Fuck, baby.” He nips at my chin, my lip, then my earlobe. “I’m going to fuck you until your voice gives out.”
I nod. “Yes! Do that!” I grin when he looks at me like he wasn’t expecting me to be so crude.
“Spoiled brat,” he mutters, then nips my lip again.
I’ve unleashed an animal. He plows into me over and over, harder and faster, and without mercy. I’m filled, then hungry for him, only to be filled again. He presses his hips into mine, and I swear his cock touches parts of me I never felt before.
“Oh, fuck!” I gasp for breath as pressure builds and builds. “I can’t hold… fuck!” I scream as an orgasm I barely saw coming rips through my body. I let loose a soundless cry, and I’m still trying to scream out from the harsh waves of my orgasm dragging through me.
“Such a good girl.” He kisses my cheek. “So fucking good.” He lets go of my hand and cradles my head as my orgasm fades into the darkness. Lifting me from the pillow, he kisses me as he thrusts once, twice, and then stills. He drags his mouth away from mine with a low growl. I can feel his body tense. His cock gets thicker, longer, just before his orgasm tears through him.
I pull my legs back even further and earn another grunt from him.
Several moments later, he turns his gaze to mine. A soft smile tugs at his lips.
“What?” I bite my lower lip. Now that the intense arousal has waned, my bravery does as well.
“You’re beautiful like this, beneath me, sweaty from a good fucking.” He runs a finger over my brow collecting the bit of sweat he’s talking about. “I think I like you best like this.”
If I punch him in the face, would he even feel it?
“No, don’t get pouty now.” He lifts up a bit and reaches over to the nightstand beside the bed. He manages to get the drawer open and pulls out a towel. “Hold still,” he warns and slips from my body. He brings the towel to my pussy and presses it against me, catching all of his cum as it drips from me.
“You keep sex towels in the nightstand?” I lean up on my elbows.
“Of course.” He tosses the towel to the floor and rolls to his back.
“Of course?” I repeat.
He pulls the blankets back up around us and settles into bed beside me, shoving his arm beneath my shoulders and pulling me to lie on his chest. I should shove away from him. He’s arrogant enough generally; I don’t want to give him reason to increase the emotion.
“Sleep,malyshka. You’ve kept me up long enough.” He kisses my head and squeezes my shoulders.
I try thinking of something snarky to say, something to hit his ego. A moment goes by and then another, and before I can think of anything, my mind wanders to darkness.
I’ll think of it in the morning.
Roman
Billie’s beenin the bathroom for half an hour already. I shouldn’t have let her take a shower alone. I should have gone with her. Not because I don’t think she’s capable of cleaning herself just fine without me, but because passing up any opportunity to see the woman naked is lunacy. And yet, here I stand, leaning against the dresser watching for the bathroom door to open.
Finally, it does, and she’s there with her hair wound up on top of her head in a towel and another one wrapped around her torso. When she finds me, a blush creeps up her neck. I won’t ever tire of her reaction to me.
“Are you waiting for me?” she asks, walking across the room to where her dress from last night is still lying on the ottoman.
“I was.” I nod. “Breakfast is ready.”
“You cook?” She pauses to stare at me.
