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I tell myself this is to take the edge off my frayed nerves. This is just a way to work out some seriously pent-up tension. For both of us.
This is just another one time thing,I promise.
Then I hear her needy little whimper and my lips travel to her neck to suck on that sweet pulse I can already feel quicken for me.
Yeah fucking right.
She breathes my name, and it only fuels the fire heating my veins. I don’t know how she does it, how she manages to make my blood run so hot it feels like I’ll burn through my own skin if I don’t ravish her until it cools down.
I’m supposed to be pissed at her for sneaking around on me. Not proud as fuck of her courage to do it to save my brother.
I’m supposed to be scaring her into submissive obedience. Not wrapping her legs around my waist and carrying her into my bedroom to drag that side of her out another, better way.
She fits so perfectly in my arms. I can’t stop tasting her sugar-sweet lips or sucking on that sinful tongue, and the way she clings to me makes it easy to carry her into my room without breaking away from her for a second.
I kick the door shut behind me and only then do I drag my lips from hers to taste her jaw, her neck, the line of salty sweat thattrickled down between her breasts when she was out being my good little spy.
Clara lets go of me long enough to peel off her tank top and throw it to the ground. When her arms wrap around my head, I take the opportunity to bury my face between her breasts.
I roll my tongue, then flick, and she rocks her hips in my arms to grind herself against my waist. When I touch her, I see she’s wet. She’s wet, she’s hot, and she’s so fucking needy.
If I wasn’t riding such a surge from everything that’s happened tonight, I’d probably take my time to torment her with more until she’s sobbing my name and begging me to soothe the ache inside her.
But I’m the one who’s aching.
And it’s all her damn fault.
So “taking my time” isn’t gonna happen.
I tumble her back onto the bed and rip off her shorts and panties with one swift yank. When I cup her mound, I grin. It’s dark in the room, but I can feel her, and I definitely feel her grind her hot, swollen, now-dripping slit against my palm.
“Demyen,” she breathes. “Please…”
I press firmer. Clara shudders and groans.
I lift her leg to my chest to open her up more for me. She’s going to need it, because I’m not going to be gentle tonight. The only warning she gets is the feeling of me lining up with her slit.
And then she’s arching, crying out, and sobbing with relief as I impale her on my cock.
I lean forward to taste her skin, which pushes her leg back and makes her open up even more for me. I bottom out inside her and groan.
Fuck. She feels so fucking perfect around me.
All I can see is shadowy glimpses here and there of her writhing beneath me. All I can hear is the wet slapping of my hips against hers, our panting and groaning, her mewls whenever I push particularly hard or deep.
All I can feel is her reaching for me, clinging to me. Pulsing around me. Milking me into her.
I need more.
I need so much more.
I grab her other leg and wrap both of them around my waist, grinding into her as I do. Clara gasps and shudders and I work my cock into her until she’s sobbing for me to keep fucking her.
She’s at the edge of the bed, right where I want her. I reach down and cup her ass, pulling her onto me so every single stroke hits as deep as I can go.
When she comes, I kiss her hard. I want to taste her screams. They’re just for me and I’ll be damned if I don’t drink them straight from the source.
The way she ripples and spasms around every inch of my throbbing cock nearly pulls my own orgasm from me. But I’m not done with her. Not yet. I need to own her, claim her. Mark her as mine.
