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His fingers dig into my thigh as he holds my leg up while starting up a hard pace. I slide my free hand around the back of his neck and yank his mouth back to mine. Our lips meet in a violent clash. I kiss him hard, angrily, biting his lip and trying to force his tongue into submission while he rams his cock into me with dominant thrusts.
We fuck like we’re fighting a war.
He rails me as if he’s trying to fuck the defiance right out of me.
And I slam my hips right back against his and dominate his mouth as if I can fuck the stubbornness right out of him too.
Pleasure builds inside me. But it’s not sweet or gentle. It’s a thrumming lightning storm filled with anger and frustration and lies and truths that we can never share and terrible, terrible, desperation.
My back hits the wall as Rico pounds into me.
I gasp into his mouth as his cock hits the perfect spot over and over again.
The swirling storm of release pulses inside me, threatening to rip my body apart if it stays trapped any longer.
I bite his bottom lip.
It draws a desperate moan from deep within his chest.
Release explodes through me.
I throw my head back, gasping in air as lightning bolts crackle through my every limb. Rico keeps fucking me through it, making the pleasure soar even higher. I can feel him about to come as well.
But then he stops.
A growl rips from me.
Oh, I don’t fucking think so. He is not going to walk away the only victor in this war.
The moment that the final remnants of the orgasm have finished sweeping through me, I yank my wrist out of his grip and slam my leg back down. Rico takes a step back, and I use that moment to give him a shove. He stumbles backwards a few steps, bumping into the kitchen table. I stalk after him.
Or I try to, at least. My legs are still a bit unsteady, so it looks a lot less powerful than I would’ve liked. As if Rico can see right through me, he smiles.
I flash him a sharp smile as I reach him and wrap my hand around his still hard cock. Then I start lowering myself to my knees. Let’s see how long he can hold out with my lips around his cock.
But before I can even get halfway down, Rico’s hand shoots out and locks around my throat. With a firm grip, he pulls me back to my feet.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he says, smirking at me. “You’re the one insisting that everything between us is fake, which means that you’re the one who gets fucked until you admit that this part, if nothing else, is at least real.”
While still keeping his hand around my throat, he sweeps his other arm under my ass and lifts me up on to the kitchen table. Then he spreads my thighs and steps in between them. His still hard cock brushes over my pussy. I sit there, my legs spread wide, and stare back at him.
“It’s not real,” I declare, my voice coming out more stubborn and petty than I meant it to.
He slides his other hand up my thigh and towards my hip. Taking my it in a firm grip, he moves even closer, slowly pushing his cock inside me.
“It’s not real,” I repeat.
Keeping one hand on my hip and the other around my throat, he slowly slides all the way inside. Because of the angle it creates when I’m sitting on the table, his cock rubs against my sensitive clit with every excruciatingly slow inch. A shudder of pleasure ripples through me at the sensation.
With his commanding eyes locked on me, he pulls back out.
And then slams in again.
A groan rips from my throat.
Reaching up, I wrap both hands around his forearm. The muscles shift and the veins become more prominent as he flexes his fingers around my throat.
“Itisreal,” he says.
