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I’m hard as steel looking at her arse. Full and round. When I grab a handful of flesh, that tasty hole comes into view.
I bend down and lick it.
Jillian pops up, her hair all over the place as she gasps, “What... What are you doing?”
“Taking care of myself.” I push her head down gently. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to fuck your cunt right now because I can’t wait. I need to come.”
It’s a primal fantasy, a loss of control.
While licking this arse I’m going to love fucking some more, I massage her pussy lips, wedging my hand between her and the mattress to sink my fingers inside her.
Fuck, she’s wet.
“Stay still. Give me what I need,” I say gruffly until I can’t bear not being buried in that cunt.
I sit up, and with her legs spread, I slam inside her.
I rock my hips, pumping in and out of her several times, my hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her. Taking what I want like this sends electric waves through me. My stamina shattered from reaching deep inside me to find an animal who can’t wait, I pulse inside her cunt.
“Christ, that’s good,” I mutter, flashes of light that might be a heart attack blinding me. “That’s right, just lay there and take my cock.”
I finish and collapse next to her, my cock soaked. I grab my boxers to wipe it off and toss them on the floor.
Jillian rolls over, a ray of moonlight shining across her face. “Wow. That was amazing. You were so…animalistic.”
“Did you come?” I whisper, settling in next to her.
“Almost…”
Embarrassment floods me. She didn’t come because I lost it too soon. Something I didn’t think I’d enjoy got me off faster than I imagined.
“Oh, sparkles.” I flip her over and lick her cunt until she finishes in my mouth.
She bucks and claws at my scalp, creaming all over my face while calling out my name.
This…is much better.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
Eoghan
Jillian breezes past me in the kitchen bundled in a coat a few days later. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” I’m so attached to this woman, I can’t be away from her for very long before I start to itch with hives.
“To start up my dad’s old car.” She grabs a set of keys from a wooden plaque with hooks near the back door. “Mom does it once a week.”
“For five years?” I look out the window over the sink at the detached garage behind the house.
“Yeah, he loved that old car.” Jillian smiles. “She doesn’t want to sell it.”
“How old is old?” My interest piques. “Some cars have vintage value.”
“I’m not sure this one does. Dad kept it mint, but it’s not rare or anything.” She pushes the door open.
I follow her without slipping on a coat and instantly regret it. The deeper we get into December, the colder it gets. And wakes up those vicious memories that haunt me to this day.
Dealing with the biting chill on my skin, I trail past the burgundy Camry that sits in front of the garage. Elena’s car, I guess.
