God, I love this man. The way he touches me, the way he kisses me. The cuts of his body and the intensity of his eyes. He is a drug that I have no way of resisting, bad for my soul, but so heartbreakingly perfect in its deliverance.
He lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist, my hands working at the buttons of his shirt, yanking his tie over his head and then reclaiming his mouth. He lies me on the kitchen island, the open surface cold on my skin, his body shifting down, until the heat of his mouth is on my stomach, and his hands are skimming my panties down and off my body.
I haven’t shaved and try to push him off, my feet finding and pressing on his shoulders. He knocks them aside, spreading my legs and focusing on my pussy, his eyes glancing up to meet mine.
Damn. Just the look in them knocks me backward—so full of raw, uncontrollable lust. He breathes hard, staring at me before looking back down, his fingers opening me up before his eyes. “God, you have no idea how beautiful you are. Your lips, your pink center. There is nothing hotter, nothing more beautiful than this right here.” He groans, lowering his mouth, swiping a hot tongue down my open slit, his tongue tickling the skin, making me moan and spread wider, moisture dripping down the crack of my ass, my need for him so great. “You taste so good,” he whispers, as his tongue flicks over the wet knot of my clit. The intensity of the release is so strong that I moan, arching into his mouth, his hands slipping under and gripping the cheeks of my ass, pulling me into his mouth.
He buries his face into my pussy, his mouth hot and wet, his gentle strums across the sensitive bud making me squirm. I prop up on my elbows, watching him, the view so carnal, so fucking hot. His face between my trembling thighs, blue eyes fixed on mine as he sucks and flicks my clit to perfection. There’s the strong arc of his shoulders, the strength of his hands, squeezing my ass as he worships my body. I am close, my body trembling beneath his mouth, when he slides one hand lower, pressing on the pucker of my ass, borrowing moisture from my center, and dipping inside of that hot, tight hole.
It pushes me over the edge and I cry out, the orgasm blinding in its intensity, my eyes squeezing shut, his finger tight inside of me, his tongue stretching the orgasm further, knowing instinctively when to soften, how to prolong the waves of pleasure.
I don’t know when he pulls out, when his mouth leaves me. I am a mess of post-coital languish, stretched out on the counter, the island the perfect width for my stretched-out form. I feel my legs as they are moved, hear his voice as he moves around me, and feel him slide me off the surface and into his arms.
The bed. Soft beneath me, his naked weight above me, he spreads my legs with his knees. He is glorious—his body so perfect, the length of his shaft so virile, my cave-woman impulses in full force.
I see man.
I need man.
I want man to make me fucking his.
He strokes his cock, putting a finger in, testing my readiness, his eyes hardening at the touch. “Jesus, Candy. You are so ready for me.”
I don’t respond, my heart finding nothing to say. I am ready for him. I have been ready for him since the moment he walked into Sammy’s. I am just ready for so much more than he can give me.
Then, he presses the stiff head of his cock against my slit, and any logical thought goes out the window. At this moment, everything my body needs, he is about to provide.
I am as tight as the first night he fucked me, and he swears as he slides his cock all the way in, so deep that I gasp. “You are so tight,” he groans, leaning forward, my legs wrapping around him. “You haven’t …” His eyes ask me the question, and I shake my head, biting my bottom lip. “Fuck,” he swears, lowering his mouth to mine, his elbows framing my head, his mouth taking me in and stealing my heart.
He pauses, his head lifting, our kiss broken, and there is one quiet moment where he only looks into my eyes. “I love you,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. You deserve so much better than what I gave you.”
When he thrusts forward with his hips, it is slow, his muscular thighs trembling, and I yelp from the satisfaction, both of my body, and my heart. “I will treasure you,” he says, the words thick with emotion, every drag of his manhood a new lesson in pleasure.
“You better,” I breath, and his eyes light with a smile.
“I will earn your love,” he promises, sliding down slightly, the angle changing, his hands cupping and squeezing my breasts together, his rough thumbs rubbing over my nipples. “I have spent every day thinking about your smile, your heart. I’ve cursed myself for everything that I don’t know about you, and for all of the moments I’ve missed.”
His fingers bite into my skin and his eyes change, that predatory arousal taking over them. “And I have spent every night thinking about your body, every night picturing you stretched across my bed. I miss your mouth on my cock, miss your sweet ass bent over before me, in sore need of a fucking spanking.” The last words are ripped from his mouth, and he moves higher, thrusting hard, the firm length of him burying inside of me. I moan, begging him for more, and feel him respond, twitching inside of me, his strokes quickening.
“I love your bare cock inside of me,” I moan, wrapping my hands around his neck and pulling his mouth to my tits, his eager response lighting a flame to my arousal, my core tightening around his cock. “I love how hard you fuck me, like you have to get every inch inside of me, like you will never get enough.”
“I won’t,” he grounds out, lifting from my breasts. “I will never get enough of you. It’s not just this. I need all of you. In bed and out. I want to wake up next to you every fucking day. I want to have babies with you and watch them grow up. I want … I just—”
As much as I want to hear his words, I can’t hold back the orgasm that rips through me, my body bucking beneath his, my panicked eyes meeting his, a look that he instantly understands.
And fuck, he knows exactly what to do. Drilling me hard and fast, my head dropping back, breasts shaking as he gives me every inch of him, his slick, hard cock so thick, so perfect, so animalistic in its possessiveness. We are animals, broken down to our core needs; I am his mark, and he is feasting. As I come apart, as my orgasm shakes me down to the soul, as I experience the true, piercing pleasure that breaks me down to nothing, I know only one thing: I will never be able to resist this man. Not his body, and not his heart. I am his, to do with as he wishes.
CHAPTER 59
ONE YEAR LATER
He will be home soon. The gates will open, his car will turn down the drive, and then he will be here. Just like every day, except that today I tell him my secret.