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“I don’t do quick,” I growl, standing back up to help her undo my jeans and free my erection from the confines of my pants.
“It’s quick, or it’s nothing,” she says, and my entire body stills when she wraps her delicate fingers around my length and hits me with a look that says she’s not fucking around with this demand.
The desperation in her eyes has me fighting back a smile. She wants this. She wants me. Maybe just as bad as I want her, and that makes me feel more like a man than quite possibly anything I’ve ever done in my life.
“Whatever you say, Lucky.” I peck her on the lips, nipping softly at her as I grab her by the legs and hoist her up on my dresser. Thelamp and my loose change crash to the floor, but I don’t bother picking them up because I’m already balls deep in her.
“Oh God,” she moans loudly, and the prickle of need in my balls ratchets up to an all-new level as my bare shaft slides into her wetness. “Wyatt, holy shit—”
I take one of my hands to cover her mouth. “You have to be quiet,” I rasp and hate myself for it because I love nothing more than making her scream. “If anyone outside hears you, it will fucking haunt me.”
The ache in my gut over anyone hearing her this way makes me feel crazy inside, and before I have a second to unpack that fucked-up thought, I pull out and thrust back into her, driving my frustration into her like she’s the magic pill that will heal me.
She whimpers against my palm and shakes her head like she can’t possibly control her voice, so I look around my dresser for something to silence her, and an idea comes to mind.
“Do you trust me?”
She nods against my palm, so I release her and reach down to my jeans, which are hanging off my ass. The thwack of my belt echoes in my room as I slide it out and fist the strap in two hands in front of her.
“Bite,” I command, my cock surging at the mental image of it alone.
She hesitates for a moment before her eyes flash with a fire I haven’t seen before. When she parts her wet lips and lets me put it in her mouth, her teeth clenching down the way her pussy currently clenches around my cock, I feel myself begin to seep inside her already.
“When you need to scream, you just bite down on that…got it?”
She makes a sexy little noise and nods, looking so fucking hot with that strip of beat-up leather between her lips that I have to tell my own damn self to be quiet as I yank her to the edge of my dresser and pump deeper inside her.
Her cowboy boots dig into my back as she splays her hands out on the dresser for balance, holding on for dear life as the belt buckle jingles with every one of my thrusts. It’s a heady combination. Seeing her all open and trusting…willing to do whatever I tell her.
Wanting me and only me.
I’ve had my fair share of experiences with women. But it’s alwayspretty vanilla and brief. It scratches the itch good enough, but what I have with Trista…it’s beyond satisfying. It’s all-consuming. And the more we do it, the more I want it.
I realize that having sex this often creates the opportunity for feelings to come into play. But with Trista…it feels safe because there’s literally a contract between us that guarantees this end date. That concrete fact gives me a sense of freedom I’ve never felt with a woman. For the next few months, I can just be me, and she can just be her, and when this is done, we both go our separate ways. End of.
A strangled sob murmurs from her lips as I feel her climax gripping me, milking me, begging for me to blow it inside her. And when she drops the belt from her mouth, I push into the hilt and let myself explode, my body shaking on top of hers as I press my head into her shoulder, inhaling her rosy scent like a drug I can’t get enough of.
This is the best sex of my life. And I venture to guess the best of hers too, based on the teeth marks she left on my belt.
By the time everyone returns from outside, we’re back in the kitchen, munching on popcorn like I didn’t just fuck her like an animal in my room.
“You two playing still or what?” Max barks, taking his seat back at the table.
“We’re coming,” I snap back, and the smile that lights up my face over that double entendre is embarrassing.
We begin to walk over, and she inhales sharply and grabs my arm…her nose wrinkling as she hisses my name.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, worried I might have hurt her in there. Fuck, could I have hurt the baby? She said she talked to the doctor about sex, and they said it was completely fine.
She stands on her tiptoes to murmur in my ear, “I forgot my panties in your room, andit’sdripping down my leg.”
It’s, meaning…my cum.
I close my eyes in pain, my entire body radiating with an overwhelming desire to take her back into my room and fuck her again. It will take a miracle for me to make it through another hand of cards, let alone to the next sundown.
WeeksPregnant:17
AnimalsontheMountain:11
