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“Assuming we each take only one turn,” Char added in.
Kenz’s pussy tightened at that, and I could feel the reaction even though I hadn’t pressed my fingers into her at all. It made me chuckle, so I didn’t even scold Char for the threat.
I knew better than to believe him. He might joke about that, but he knew damn well that our girl was strong to just make it through one round each with us her first time out. No way would he expect her to do anything more than that.
He was an asshole, but he wasn’tthatmuch of one.
“Well, since you’re already well-used, I guess I don’t have to worry about getting you ready, do I?”
Kenz shuddered but didn’t so much as lift her head in response. Why did that turn me on even more? The absolute and total surrender of her to me—to us?
I tore open the condom Hayden had handed me, then rolled it over my aching cock. Going later had an advantage, which was a lessened need for prep. I didn’t have to hold back, to ease her into anything. I could take her rough and hard from the start, which sounded amazing to me.
I ran the head of my dick through her folds, gathering the wetness on the condom, enjoying the way she whimpered against the blanket on the bed at each touch. When I ground my cock against her clit, that was the first real reaction I’d gotten from her.
I laughed softly. “Is your clit a bit sore, sweetheart? Poor girl, you’ve sure been fucked thoroughly. Okay, I’ll leave it be and give you what you really want.” I grasped her hip with my good hand and used my right hand to aim my cock, then sank into her with a single hard thrust.
She took me easily, despite the rhythmic tightening of her cunt that went to show how sensitive she was after having been teased and toyed with for so long. It made me want to spread her out some time and keep her on that edge for hours, then force orgasm after orgasm out of her all night long. She’d look so pretty, covered in sweat, pleading and begging for a break.
However, that was a fantasy for a different time, and the clutching grip of her cunt was more than enough for me.
And judging from the lovely noises she made, it was enough for her, too.
I went to grasp her waist with my bad hand but froze just before I made contact, that old fear rising. In the end, I was a coward and leaned over her instead of touching her with my mangled hand. I slammed into her, caging her in with my body, trapping her beneath me and my need.
Kenz had already frayed my control with her blow job, which meant I’d teetered on that edge for a while. No doubt her pussy would take me over that edge fast.
Still, I savored each second of it, the way her body gave so well beneath me, the way she gripped my wrist when I set my good hand over her on the bed for my balance. She was everything I could have wanted.
I’d feared meaningful connections for so long, so used to letting others down that I’d convinced myself one-night stands were all I needed. She’d shattered that delusion so easily, though. She’d torn it to pieces around me, forcing me to come to terms with how empty my life had been, how shallow.
I set my bad hand on the bed to her other side, needing the leverage to take her as I wanted to, to thrust as wildly as I needed into her.
I jerked slightly when something touched my right hand, the action causing me to pause my thrusts and look down. Kenz had wrapped her hand around my wrist, then turned her face toward my damaged hand.
I recalled the few times where people had seen my hand—typically in medical settings—and they’d always shied away from it. Even professionals had treated me as though that hand were bad, always reaching and handing things toward my other hand.
Kenz didn’t do that, though. Instead, she pressed her lips to the damaged skin, to the area I usually tried hard not to even look at. Her touch didn’t feel like pity, but rather like washing filth from a wound, as though her affection could cleanse the doubt and hatred I’d always had toward the injury.
She nuzzled my hand, wrapping around it as though nothing else mattered, her actions startling me for a heartbeat before the needs of my cock overcame it.
No, that wasn’t exactly right. It didn’t overcome it, rather added to it. The acceptance she had, the way she didn’t reject me, didn’t avoid even the parts of myself I couldn’t accept, it made it impossible to resist. I took her harder, the slap of my skin against her ass a testament to how badly I needed her.
She cried out but didn’t stop lavishing attention to my hand, and it drove me right past the ability to hold back. I slammed deep into her and shuddered hard as I came, a deep groan escaping me, feeling as though we’d forged some unbreakable connection.
I’d taken her, come while held deep inside her, and she’d accepted every bit of me without reservation.
I pressed my lips against her back, the salt of her sweat clinging to my lips as proof of just how we’d worn her out, how we’d exhausted her. Her pussy tightened again, the stimulation too much, so I withdrew my softening cock before offering another kiss to her back.
How could I have thought I didn’t need anyone? That I could live happily on a string of one-night stands? Those were like sips from a stagnant pond that I’d convinced myself was all I needed and Kenz was my first drink of fresh water.
She’d opened my eyes to what else I could have, and now anything short of it wouldn’t be enough for me.
Char
The sight of Kenz took me back in a strange way. I’d had sex since the death of my wife, had indulged in other women, but it had always felt as personal as scratching an itch. I hadn’t thought about my wife during those times, hadn’t seen her face, hadn’t even felt any guilt over it.
This time was different.
