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“Fuck me, Jameson. Fuck me like you hate me.”
“I could never hate you, Lemon. You’re perfect to me. Completely fucking perfect. And completely fucking mine. But I’ll fuck you like I hate you, if that’s what you need.” Jameson’s hand leaves my hip and then crashes down on my ass. The pain stings so good.
And then he’s driving his cock into me.
He’s not gentle.
Nothing about this is soft.
He’s so hard against me. Hard cock thrusting into me. Hard body slamming against my ass and thighs. Every few thrusts, he slaps me on the ass. And one of his big hands slides across my back to pick up some of my hair and tug on it. Just a little. Just how I like. Enough to feel a pinch. But not more than that.
The way he drives his dick into me feels so fucking good. I need this. I always need this.
“You want me to rub your clit? How close are you?”
“No. Make me come on your dick, or neither of us comes at all.”
“I fucking love you so much, babe. We’re definitely doing this again.”
“Shut up and fuck me.”
“You know I’m a talker, babe. Fuck, this pussy is everything. You feel so good wrapped around my cock, Lemon. Come for me now. Come for me like I know you can. Come all over this perfect dick for me.”
Jameson pushes me down so my face is pressed hard into the mattress. He runs the calloused pads of his fingers down my spine, tracing the line of bone. My ass is in the air and my breasts are grinding into the bed. The change in angle feels so damn good as he drags his dick against my front wall.
Jameson’s ass-slapping hand slides around my hip to my pussy, and he spanks me right on the clit while he drives his perfect dick into me.
And I’m done. My body jerks around him. It doesn’t know where to go. I’m bouncing back and forth between the mattress and Jameson’s hard dick. Everything inside me contracts and expands again. I smell everything. Taste everything. Feel everything more. I still taste the salt on Jameson’s skin. I smell us. Sex and sweat. And I feel him. His hands on my skin. His hips thrusting into me. I love this. I love him. I can’t ever lose him.
When my body finally stops quaking, I relax into a blob against the mattress, with Jameson still pounding into me.
“Can I come now, babe? I really need to fucking come. I know I said I wouldn’t until you said I could. And I never want to lie to you, babe. But I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on. You just feel too damn good.”
Why am I being mean to him? Am I even being mean to him? I don’t even know. I love this man more than anything. But he also has the innate ability to piss me off more than anyone I’ve ever met.
Turning to look at him over my shoulder, I can’t stop staring at the clenching of his body—the rippling of his muscles like a wave—as he drives into me. Even post-orgasm, he feels so good inside me. If he keeps going long enough, I know I’ll come all over again.
“Pull out and come on my back.”
“What the hell, babe?”
“Just do it. Come all over me.”
“Okay, I’m doing this. Because fuck, I really want to do this. But you don’t get to be pissed at me for doing it after, babe.”
“I won’t, I promise. I want you to. Cover me in your cum, kid.”
I feel empty when Jameson pulls out of me. But then I feel shot after shot of hot cum spray across my back and my ass. Like he’s claiming me. Like I’m his. I am his. For as long as he’ll have me.
He runs his hands over my ass.
“You look so fucking pretty covered in my cum, babe.”
“Did I say you could take your blindfold off?”
“No. But there’s no way I’m missing seeing you covered in my cum like this, Lemon. Let me go get a cloth, and I’ll clean you up.”
“No. Make me come again.”
