“I need you, Rafe.” I work my fingers in my * faster. I need him, and I need the orgasm he can give me. After taking Rafe’s monster cock? My fingers feel like the saddest substitute.
“Tell me I can fuck you,” he growls, and I feel his teeth rake over my buttock, sending a shiver of need through me.
Oh God, yes please. “I want you to fuck me with that big Godzilla dick of yours.”
He groans and tugs my hand out of my *, and my fingers leave with a wet, needy sound. “Get on the bed,” he commands.
Okay, that’s hot. He’s in control, and it makes my nipples tighten and my body ache with more need. I get on the bed on all fours, not caring that I’m probably getting cheap lube all over the hotel blankets. Fuck the blankets. I hunch down on my elbows and stick my ass in the air for him, spreading my legs wide.
I hear Rafe fumbling with his pants, hear the zipper go down and the rustle of fabric. I don’t want him to second-guess anything. I want him mindless and inside me, so I slide a hand back to my * again and push my cheek against the bedsheets. “You want inside this *? Rafe? It needs your cock so bad. It’s aching for you.” God, I hope Bennito can’t hear our dirty talk in the next room.
Actually, I don’t care. Let Bennito know that Rafe’s nailing me. I’ll share it with the world if I need to. He’s sexy as hell, my mercenary.
Rafe makes an agonized sound, and I feel the thick, enormous head of his cock press against the entrance to my sex. “Tell me to fuck you, Ava.”
“Fuck me.”
He pushes, and I tense a little, expecting a taut sort of pain like before. But there’s nothing. I’m stretched wide for him, and I’m needy and lubed up, and I cry out because he feels so freaking amazing I can’t stand it.
Over me, Rafe freezes. “Ava?”
“Good,” I moan. “Oh so fucking good. Fuck me hard, Rafe. I need you to pound into me.” I wiggle back against him to show that I mean it.
He makes another agonized sound that’s not quite a groan, and not quite my name. He slams into me with Godzilla, and it’s shocking and so incredibly good that I cry out again. Now I’m positive Bennito can hear us fucking.
Still not caring.
Again, Rafe thrusts into me. “You’re so fucking tight—”
“Tight for you,” I pant. “My *’s just for you, baby.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“You feel better,” I tell him. “So big and thick, I can feel you all through me. I love your big, fat cock, baby. Love how good it makes me feel. Love—”
“Fuck,” he says again, and I’ve forgotten all about the fact that Rafe’s not too experienced with sex, because he shudders over me, coming. His hands clasp my hips tightly, and he grinds his cock into me as he orgasms.
And really, it’s still okay that he’s come after a few quick thrusts. I know how to get mine. “Keep moving,” I tell him, and reach between my spread thighs to touch my clit.
“Goddamn, Ava,” he says, but his entire body shakes as he gives me another halfhearted thrust. Even Rafe’s limp dick is still better than most dicks, and I rub my clit faster, moving in tiny, fast circles helped along by the lube that’s all over my hands. He grinds into me again, and I suck in a breath, because now I’m coming, too. My toes curl and I whimper loudly as he pants over me.
Even a messy fuck with Rafe’s still amazing. It takes me a few minutes to come down from the orgasm, and he’s still slowly pumping into me with his half chub. I can feel the slippery wetness of his come all over where we’re joined, and I moan, because he’s sending happy aftershocks through my body with every slide of his cock inside me.
“Can I hold you?” he asks, voice hoarse.
“I’d be pissed if you didn’t,” I tell him, and he moves down on the bed next to me, and pulls me against him. I’m the smaller spoon, and his cock is pressing against my backside, slick and hot, and still stirring. Rafe can keep a hard-on longer than any guy I’ve ever known. Maybe it’s because of his size.
He reaches around and holds me against him, his hands going to my breasts. I feel his breath on my neck, and he kisses it softly. “I’m sorry.”
I squeeze his hand, and in the process, squeeze my own boob. “What are you sorry for?”
“That I said those things—”
“Shh,” I tell him. “I know you didn’t mean it. I know you love me,” I tease, trying to keep him smiling.
“God,” he says softly, and kisses my neck again. “You’re incredible.”
“You are, too. I don’t understand why you don’t think so.”
He’s silent for a long moment. Then, he strokes his fingers over my shoulder reverently. His voice is low as he begins to speak. “My mother was raped when she was sixteen but her family is devoutly religious. They would not allow her to get an abortion. She hated me. I don’t blame her. I was the evidence of everything that had gone wrong in her life. She poured herself into the church and told me to avoid the opposite sex. My dick was monstrous, she’d said, and that it was a sign that I’d been born evil. Cursed.”