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I smack it a third time and then lean forward and latch onto her breast, taking a hard pull on her nipple, which makes her back arch. I take the opportunity to stuff her cunt with two fingers. I get no resistance whatsoever and it’s not water from the shower that grants me access.
I decide the water, bench, and the wet tiles are too much of a hassle during this struggle she’s keeping up, so I grab her and throw her over my shoulder before taking her slightly slippery body back to bed, dropping her on it, falling on top of her, giving her all my weight.
She grunts in response, trying to fight me off.
“Spirited this morning, aren’t you?” I ask, laughing darkly and grabbing her wrists, I pin them so I can impale her with a slam of my hips.
And I see the light burn in her blue eyes as I pull back and slam in again, keeping her pinned but transferring both of her wrists to my left hand, gripping them tight to the pillows above her head so I can slide my right hand between us and tease her clit while slowly driving into her over and over.
“This is a nice Sunday morning ritual, isn’t it?” I muse and kiss her.
She bites me.
I hiss while jerking my head back in shock.
I taste blood on my bottom lip.
Alarm registers in her eyes and I’m guessing it’s because of the look on my face.
I go feral and attack her mouth.
“Now you get to taste my blood too, little bunny,” I tell her, as my hips slam forward repeatedly while I hold her mouth hostage with mine.
I nip her bottom lip too.
She whimpers, but instead of trying to writhe and squirm away, now she’s clutching me. Clutching me with her legs and her sweet pussy.
“I wanna know what your blood tastes like too,” I tell her and then I bite her luscious breast, drawing blood while continuing to thrust my cock into her tight, quivering heat over and over.
She screams as she comes, whimpering hard while I continue to thrust.
Her eyes are wild, our skin is damp from the shower, from sweat, and suddenly I want to stop rutting her long enough to mark her with my cum. Paint her beautiful, nude body with it. The idea has my balls tightening, my spine tingling, as I release her wrists, pull out and fist my cock, sending ribbons of pearly white all over her stomach, her tits, even hitting her chin.
She lies still, staring at me with shock. Her mouth is open. Her eyes are wide. I see something new, though I can’t assess it because I’m feeling. Feeling my orgasm. Feeling satisfaction roll through me both physically and emotionally because she’s wearing streaks of me. The blood from my lip on her chin. The print of my teeth on her breast with a tiny drop of blood where I broke the skin.
I lean over and lick the droplet away, then I collapse on top of her and kiss her again and again, on her mouth, her jaw, each of her eyelids, her throat.
“Now we need to finish that shower,” I say and lift her up and carry her back to the bathroom.
The shower is still running. Perfect.
I set her on her feet, grab the sponge from the tiled floor near the drain, and soap it up again.
As I wash her, she’s staring at me like she’s stunned. Like she’s just seen something she can’t believe, maybe. I don’t know.
What I do know is that I can’t get enough of her. I might have just hit a new level of obsessed.
After I wash her off, I soap the sponge up again and start on myself. She tries to sneak out, so I catch her wrist.
“Chloe.” I lift it and press my lips to her hand with a kiss. “We need to be at my parents’ at eleven. We’ll leave at ten-thirty. Can you wear one of the blue dresses, please? For me?”
She frowns.
I kiss her hand again and flash her a smile.
She pulls away, swallowing nervously, but doesn’t answer.
It’s not a full on trembling I’m doing, but I keep getting hand tremors and belly swoops as I try to get ready amid lots of hot whooshes between my thighs. Because I keep getting flashbacks.
