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“But I came in your mouth,” I point out, shocked by my words. I’m exploring new territory tonight.
“I know, and it was fucking amazing, but I don’t want to blow my entire wad and be done with it.” He blinks at me, and apparently now he’s sleepy, his eyes are so heavy lidded. I wonder if he’s still suffering from a major case of jet lag. “I want to fuck you so I can feel you squeeze the come out of me.”
Oh. My.
His words are incredibly rude. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
So why am I attacking him like an uncontrollable, sex-deprived demon? I practically throw myself at him, my mouth finding and fusing with his, my hands roaming, my lower body grinding against his. He lets me act like a sex maniac for all of about two minutes and then he takes control, flipping us over so my back is on the mattress and he’s above me. Somehow in the chaos he rolled the condom on, and I watch in fascination as he rises up on his knees again, grabs hold of my hip with one hand and the base of his erection with the other, and slowly brushes the tip against me.
I’m shivering just at that first touch. I’m so wet, I can actually hear the, ahem, juicy sounds my flesh is making, and he’s smiling. So wide, I know exactly what he’s thinking.
“See? Your pussy is juicy,” he says, sounding proud.
I knew he would say that.
“It won’t hurt,” he tells me, his voice low and even as he slowly pushes himself inside me. I immediately tense up. “Breathe.” I do as he says, willing myself to relax. “Nope, it won’t hurt. Not a bit. Just relax, baby, and I’ll make you feel good.”
His words should sound cheesy. If I read them in a romance novel, I’d probably roll my eyes, and I love the occasional romance novel.
But I am so thoroughly enjoying the way he speaks to me, and maybe that’s because no other man has even attempted such naughty talk. They don’t talk about blowing wads and squeezing come and juicy pussies and oh my God, he just slipped all the way inside me and I feel so incredibly full.
He pauses, waiting, his breathing harsh. I open my eyes to find him hovering above me, his eyes closed, sweat dripping down the side of his face. Again, the ick factor should be on high alert for me right now—not a fan of sweat—but I’m tempted to rub myself all over him so I can get just as sweaty as he is.
Clearly, I have a problem.
“Why aren’t you—doing anything?” I ask after a long quiet moment.
“I’m trying to keep my shit under control,” he says through clenched teeth.
&
nbsp; “What do you mean?” I’m a little confused.
“I’m afraid if I start moving, I’ll unleash on you, and it’ll be over in two seconds,” he confesses, the pain on his face obvious. “And I don’t wanna do that.”
I want him to do that. I want to see this man unleash on me. I’m sure it would be amazing.
“Just…move slow,” I suggest, wiggling my hips, sending him somehow even deeper, and we both groan at the sensation.
“I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to move slow with you, Sus. And that’s a fact.”
My heart warms at him calling me Sus. No one has ever really called me that before. Even when I was a small child, my parents always called me Susanna. Never Susie or Anna or any type of nickname, beyond the occasional darling or sweetheart.
I grew up in a very formal house, and while silly nicknames were popular amongst all of my friends’ households, they weren’t in my house.
And that made me sad.
So Cannon calling me Sus touches my heart more than it probably should, but I can’t help it.
I sort of love it.
“Then move fast,” I whisper encouragingly. “Unleash on me. I don’t care if it’s over in two seconds.”
“I want it to last longer,” he says as he starts to move his hips. He pulls almost all the way out before pushing himself back in, a slow, delicious drag of hard, hot flesh that has my toes curling. “Fuck, there is no way I can make this last longer.”
With those words, he does as he predicted and unleashes on me. His hips pump at maximum speed as he fucks me thoroughly. There is no other way to describe it. He fucks me like he was born to do it, his muscles straining, his chest heaving, his cock spearing in and out of me, and all I can do is cling to him. Slip my legs around his waist to send him even deeper. Moan encouraging little sounds in his ear as I wrap my body around his. I can’t come up with words, not yet, I’m still too…I don’t know, embarrassed, maybe?
But I can imagine that if we keep this up, if we keep seeing each other and having sex like this?
