Caveman

Emboldened, I stroke my fingertips down his length, and its heat sears me. It feels so good, the skin soft, sliding over that hard length when I wrap my fingers around it, and he grunts, pushing into my grip.

His hands tighten on my legs as he rocks his hips, his cock swelling more in my grasp as I stare down at it, mesmerized. It’s throbbing. I can feel his heartbeat at its base.

He steps away and I let go, startled. Swiping his pants from the floor, he pulls out his wallet and from there a silver foil.

A condom.

The reality of what we’re about to do crashes on me again. My mom’s face flashes in front of my eyes, set in a frown of disapproval. That’s how she ended up pregnant so young and left home, only to be abandoned by my father when Merc was born.

If she knew what I’m doing right now she’d have a screaming fit.

And then Gigi’s voice says in my ear. “Live a little, Tati.”

My body agrees. My mind falls in line when he tears the foil with his teeth and grabs his cock in his big hand, giving it a few strokes. He’s watching me from under those long lashes, measuring me.

Wanting me.

And I want him, too. Screw tomorrow. Screw the consequences. I reach for him, sliding my hands over his arms to his corded neck.

His body is a statue, powerful and hard, still and unyielding, but as my hands tug on his hair, on his beard, touching his face, he breaks, unbends, and comes to life.

With a low groan, he rolls the condom over his hard-on, and presses between my legs, rubbing the head of his cock over my entrance—then pushing into me.

Pushing and rocking and thrusting deep.

“Oh fuck, Tay…” He chokes on a pained grunt, bending over me, his cock twitching inside me, and I’m speechless.

In shock.

I’m so full of him, nailed down, split open, and I’m not sure I can do this.

Again he doesn’t leave me time to react. His hands drop to my hips as he starts moving, thrusting into me. He moves his hands under my legs, lifting them, locking them around his hips and lifts me right off the counter, slamming into me, groaning with every thrust.

Holy crap. Tears sting my eyes. I choke on the pain of his big, hard cock inside me, splitting me apart, driving so deep I want to scream, but as his mouth fastens on one of my nipples, the pain turns to discomfort, and then to blinding pleasure.

“Oh God, ohgodohgod…” My voice fails me when he rolls his hips and the angle changes, a rush of pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever felt burning through me. “Matt!”

His harsh breathing answers me, his breath scalding on my breast, his cock sliding in and out of me as he effortlessly lifts and lowers me, fucking me so hard.

So hard, God, and I’m starting to come before I even realize it, my nipple in his mouth, his cock buried deep inside me, his name on my lips.

I cry out, the hot wave of release jerking me like a puppet on a string. I hold on to him with all I have as another wave rolls on top of the first, the pleasure burning. Annihilating me.

Dazedly I think that this might be what flying—or what dying—must feel like.

Dying—or maybe, finally living.





Chapter Twenty-One





Matt




Seeing her, feeling her come on my dick is one of the sweetest things in the world. I’m fucking lost in the moment, in the dreamy expression on her face as she comes down slowly, her tight pussy still milking my cock, her legs wrapped around me, trembling.

Fucking hell, she’s beautiful.

A memory tries to distract me, choke me up—but I’m riding a razor-sharp edge between pain and pleasure, my body taut and clenched tight, about to explode.

That’s how I feel, that’s how my dick feels. Explosive. Contained in a cage for too long, kept in a dark cell, and now…

Now I’m about to fucking come and fuck knows how I’ll survive it.

She moans again, pulling my thoughts away from the waiting pit of writhing blackness, and my body’s back in the game. No need for conscious thought. My hips are pistoning, my ass clenching, my dick thrusting in her sweet heat, and I lose myself once more in the sensation.

In the illusion.

Setting her down on the counter, I lift her legs higher, curl them around my waist as I pound into her harder. Every muscle in my body is locked tight, all the tension of the past hours catching up with me, demanding release.

She’s holding on to my shoulders, dark hair spilling around her face like a cloud. Her head falls back, my thrusting lifting her off the counter, and she’s spread out underneath me like a dream, tits heaving, mouth open. A dream come true in the faint light coming through the door, so damn sexy, giving herself up to me, her pussy gripping me so tight.

So fucking tight, oh fuck…

Dimly I’m aware that I don’t want to come yet, don’t want this to end, this moment of pure, mindless need and pleasure that’s suspended in time.

Her thighs clench around my waist, her pussy pulses around me. She’s about to come again, and the realization sends another rush of heat into my dick. Holy fuck, I can’t hold back much longer.

But I want her coming with me.

Releasing her leg, I reach blindly between us, finding her clit and pressing. She tenses, her grip on my cock tight like a vise, her breath coming in stuttered little puffs.

I rub her clit and thrust deeper, faster, giving it to her hard and she starts to come. I feel it in the shudder going through her body, hear it in her low cry. It echoes through me, that shock of pleasure, and my control snaps. I’m rutting like an animal, grunting and growling.

Giving up all pretense at being civilized, at trying to find my way back to the world. Giving in. I’m gone, slumped over her, my dick spasming, spilling into the condom, into her heat.

My hands slam on the counter, to avoid crushing her. My heart is hammering its way out of my chest. My teeth are still gritting with the violence of my release, my muscles twitching, still unsure if to relax or cramp again.

“Tay…” She’s soft and warm underneath me, her legs trembling around my waist, her scent musky and sweet, wrapping me up like a hug.

So tempting to take it, relax into it, fucking let go for a moment.

“Matt, can you…?” She pushes at me.

Fuck, am I crushing her? Gripping the condom at the base of my dick, I carefully pull out as her legs begin to slide off my hips.

Letting go of my dick, I grab her legs to stop her from falling down to the floor and settle her on the counter. I turn toward the living room door to remove the condom and throw it into the trash.

And that’s when I see it.

Blood on the condom.

Not much, but still. It takes me a long moment to process the meaning of his, and when it does, I spin back toward her.

For fuck’s sake. “Tell me this wasn’t your first goddamn time?”

She says nothing, turning her face away, her cheeks red.

Son of a bitch. Fucking goddamn son of a bitch.

Shaking my head, I tie off the condom with shaking hands, chuck it into the trash and wipe my face on the back of my hand, my pulse roaring in my ears.

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