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“Uh, uh, uh,” she gasps, her body shaking, as if all the texting and waiting has turned her into a firecracker ready to spark and explode.
With a moan, I smooth my hand to her ass, squeezing her thickness as I devour her clit. I lick it hard, then slide one of my hands to her entrance, slipping my finger inside. When I hear her handcuffs rattling against the frame, I swear I almost come. Just explode in my pants.
She’s mine. She can’t go anywhere. She belongs to me, just me.
“Nobody fucking else gets to do this,” I growl, fingering her soppy slit, the wet noises rising around us. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“We have to be quiet.”
“Then say it.”
“Nobody else,” she whispers, then moans like she can’t control it, biting onto the pillow again.
The cuffs rattle a little louder when I start licking and sucking her clit, addicted to her taste, to the noises she makes, to everything about her. I slip my finger in and out of her quicker, imagining my dick in its place.
She’s even tighter than I thought she’d be. My cock aches just thinking about driving into her virgin hole. She strains against the handcuffs when I slip another finger into her, pushing deep, pushing slow. I lick her bud at the same time. It feels like it’s getting bigger in my mouth, like her lust is exploding out of her.
“You taste so fucking good,” I groan.
“Hmm. Hmm.” She pushes her face into the pillow. “I… I… I…”
She doesn’t have to say it. I can feel her orgasm pulsing out of her, her legs bucking, her pussy leaking hot, horny juices all over my mouth. I can finger fuck my woman quicker, her hole slick, as if getting ready for my dick.
My shaft aches and pushes against my underwear. Once her orgasm ends, I kneel between her legs, staring down at her. She’s chewed the pillow almost to ruin, her face bright red, her chest rising and falling as she gazes at me.
I reach down and grab my pants. She nods up and down slowly. I unbutton them, unzip, and yank my underwear down so my cock springs up. Her eyes widen, and she’s biting her lip in that sexy-as-hell way.
“Your pussy’s ready,” I tell her in a sharp, low voice.
She moans gently, shaking her head and nodding at the same time. It’s like she’s fighting some internal battle. “After, does this all end?”
“It’s never over,” I say, knowing I’m so close, too close. “Me and you…”
As I speak, I stroke my hand up and down my dick. The cuffs press against her wrists as she leans forward, almost as if her instincts are trying to get her to take it in her mouth. Her hand. Her sweet, tight hole.
“We’re…”
There’s a heavy knock at the door. I move my hand away from myself. Katy’s expression turns sour.
“Katy?” It’s her mother. “Are you okay? I heard noises.”
CHAPTER 18
Katy
We’re what? I want to scream, but I can’t talk to him now.
Sam was about to say something about us. He had this insanely intense look in his eyes, even more intense than when he cuffed me to the bed and feasted on me. My body is still aching. My lips, clit, and core are sore, yet I want more.
Now, Sam stands beside the door with his back pressed flat. When I gestured for him to hide, he looked pissed momentarily, as if he thought we would tell Mom now. Tell her what?
What was he going to say? We’re… forever?
“You sure you’re okay?” Mom says.
She gets like this when she sobers up. She wants to make up for past mistakes and lost time and tends to overcorrect. I wouldn’t usually complain, but I can still feel the pressure of the cuffs against my wrists, even after Sam removed them. I can still feel the aftershocks of the pleasure.
“Really,” I tell her again. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Maybe you were having a nightmare?” she says. “If you were, or ever do, you know we can talk about it, don’t you?”
“Yeah, Mom. I do. Thank you.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I put my finger to my mouth, gesturing at Sam to please be quiet. He frowns as though he’s pissed again, but it’s not his place to reveal whatever this is to my mom yet. Before she interrupted us, I was going to try to have sex, even as I stared at his huge size, knowing I might not be everything he wanted. The steaminess was there, and the want, but now there’s this lump in my throat. What would Mom say if she’d caught us?
I pick up my phone, type a message, and show it to Sam. That was way too close.
He nods shortly, his eyes still with that unhinged look. I keep getting the impression he’s on the edge of saying something. He’s just about to talk, but then he doesn’t. At least he’s my Sam, the man from the photos, with that same intensity in his eyes.
