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5
I wake up the next morning, and for a moment, I'm disoriented. This looks like my apartment. Sounds like my apartment. There's the same distant blare of traffic and the same slant of sunlight through the standard-issue blinds. But the bed feels softer beneath me than I'm used to. And I'm warmer than I'm used to, too. Mostly because there's a very warm body curled against mine, and a strong arm wrapped protectively around my waist.
I shift a little and feel something else press against me. A hard, thick cock prodding my ass.
Then I remember last night. Everything from the coffee date all the way to our wild session on the couch. I smile and turn my head to peek over my shoulder.
Zayne blinks at me, sleepy, still waking up. But he probably has the same idea that I do, because a moment later, he shifts his hips against mine, and his cock digs harder against my ass.
"Good morning, sexy," he murmurs.
"Morning, hot stuff." I grin. He kisses me softly and I smile into it. Then I wriggle my ass, let it grind against his cock.
"Still thirsty, I see," he comments when we break apart. I laugh. But he doesn't. He pushes gently against my upper back, bending me forward into a tighter curl. "Be careful what you wish for, naughty girl."
"What if I'm wishing for you to punish me, though?" I ask, and bat my lashes just a little.
"Hmm..." He hums a little under his breath as he traces his hands over my back, down my spine to cup my ass on either side of his cock. He spreads my cheeks and lets his cock slide between them, along my slit. Then he runs his hands back up my back, massaging lightly. "Then I'd have to say, be careful what you wish for," he finally says.
I feel the bed shift as he turns to reach for the nightstand. I hear the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and for a moment, his cock leaves my backside as he slips it on.
Then he's back, hands sliding around to my front now. He massages my breasts, one at a time, taking his time, kneading them hard before he pinches each nipple, rolling it between his fingers until they’re hard. He pinches my right nipple harder, enough to make me gasp, and then he grins and kisses the back of my neck.
"Was this what you had in mind?" he murmurs against my skin. "Me punishing you, taking what I want from your body..."
"It's yours," I whisper. "Do with me what you wish."
"Oh, Clove." His hands slide down the flat plane of my stomach to my mound. Flattens against it, and his forefinger grazes my clit. "I plan to."
He strokes my clit slowly, lightly. At first it feels nice, but as the pressure builds, that light touch becomes torturous. I thrust against him, but he pins me down, his arm heavy on my hipbone.
"Ah, ah. This is my pussy. I'm in charge, naughty girl."
I swallow hard. Those words send a pulse of desire straight to my belly. "Yes."
"And what I want right now..." he says as he keeps stroking me lightly, faintly, "is to fuck you senseless."
With that, he thrusts his cock into my pussy, hard and without warning. I gasp and buck against the sheets. He plunges deep inside me, and my pussy is tight with surprise. But I'm already wet from his touches, his slow strokes, and he slides all the way inside me without resistance, stretching my muscles, making me ache.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk downstairs," he whispers, and my pussy pulses around his cock, another spike of desire heating me up.
"You like that, I see." He pulls out of me. Thrusts in again, harder. "You're such a dirty little slut. I love it."
He keeps it up like that, fucking me, then slowing down to tease me, stroking my clit alternately whenever he pauses. It's not long before I feel desperate, crazed with desire. I try to thrust against him, but he spanks my ass once, hard enough to sting. Then he keeps fucking me, hard but slow, driving me wild.
Finally, just when I feel like I'm going to lose it, going to go crazy from the urge to truly fuck him, he grabs my hips and starts to fuck me in earnest. It feels so good after all the teasing that I cry out. That shifts into a low, throaty moan as he keeps fucking me, his cock spearing me with every thrust, thick and tight inside my pussy.
He bends me in half, fucks me so hard that I lose track of anything but his body against mine, his cock in me, my hands fisted in the sheets. When I finally come, he's right there with me, both of us crying out with pleasure at the same time as we finish.
He pulls out, still breathing hard, and rolls onto his back cursing under his breath.
"You are positively addictive, Clove Walker."
"I could say the same about you, Zayne Pearson."
We move to the shower, ostensibly to clean off. We are covered in sweat, after all. Among other things. But he insists on washing me, and when he lathers up his palms with soap and runs those rough, strong hands over my body, slowly, head to toe, I can't help it. The fire starts to build in my belly again, this lust, insatiable, impossible to please.
Finally, when it feels like too much, I spin to face him, half-covered in soap that he's massaged into my body.
