145. Nice Guys Can Have Big Dicks, Too
CHAPTER 145
NICE GUYS CAN HAVE BIG DICKS, TOO
MARGAUX
L ater in the evening, we’re making out on the couch. It’s more than good, our tongues exploring each other while our hands roam each other’s body.
But then I have a flashback, and I frown. “I’m beginning to think that’s all women were put here for. To be used by men. To have our bodies trashed and desecrated for the pleasure of anyone with a dick. Until we’re just shells, bashed and broken until they move onto the next one.”
I’m having a bad day—nothing specific happened, just my emotions recovering, I guess, and—poor Dex—I’m taking it all out on him. What a mood killer. Why did I just say all of that?
But he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t judge me. He just stays, steady and present. “That’s where you’re so wrong, Margaux,” he replies, his voice calm but with an intensity that pulls my eyes to his. “And you’re not wrong about much, but this is one of those times.”
He uses a thumb to gently stroke an escaped tendril of my hair behind my ear, sending a little shiver through me.
“How so?” I ask, though my throat feels tight, vulnerable.
“It shouldn’t be that way,” he says, his eyes holding mine like he can see all the broken pieces inside me. “It should be about respect. About what you want to have happen. It should bring you pleasure. The only screams coming out of your mouth should be when I’m making you come.”
My pussy clenches at the thought, a visceral response I’m too raw to hide. I swallow hard, and his lips curl slightly, like he knows exactly what effect he’s having on me.
“I love the way you look at me,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. His green-hazel eyes sparkle warmly at me, and I try to smile, but my mouth twitches nervously.
He notices, of course. “You do?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. “You didn’t look so sure just then.”
“Well, I’d like it—love it—if it didn’t make me feel so scared.”
“Do I have something in my teeth?” he jokes softly, his grin teasing but never mocking.
I laugh despite myself. “No, it’s just… the last time someone appeared to look at me in an adoring fashion—other than my cat when he wants a treat—was Timmy. And it’s part of what made me fall for him.”
His expression darkens, just a fraction. “So you don’t trust my eyes because of Timmy’s eyes? That doesn’t seem fair.” He pauses. “I’m not him.”
I’m caught. “I’m sorry,” I say, stepping closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He doesn’t flinch or pull away, just holds me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m trying to make sure I don’t repeat past mistakes. And I know I’ve gotten better about setting boundaries, but I’m still working on trusting myself to notice the red flags.”
“What red flags have you noticed about me?” he asks, his tone light but curious.
“Oh, other than your awful taste in music?” I giggle, lightly punching his arm.
He grins, his face softening. “Well, you tell me if that changes.” Then, with zero warning, he scoops me up and hoists me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. I giggle uncontrollably as he carries me to the bedroom.
His hands trail down my back, strong and sure, before settling on my hips. He lifts me effortlessly, and I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling the solid strength of him against me.
I giggle as my hair flies across his back, and my pussy clenches at the easy way he lifted me.
He carries me to the bed, lowering me gently onto the mattress.
His hands are huge, and much stronger than my own. He could really hurt me if he wanted to. But he never would. He would only use them to bring me pleasure, to care for me.
His eyes meet mine, searching. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice rough with restraint.
“You don’t need to ask me that,” I reply, my gaze steady. “I want you. And I don’t want you to be gentle. I’m not a delicate flower.”
His lips quirk into a wicked smile. “Careful what you wish for.”
And then he’s on me, wrapping his massive hand around the back of my neck, pulling my face to his, his mouth claiming mine with an intensity that makes my toes curl. This kiss is helping me, and I need a lot more healing.
His tongue explores mine while his other hand traces its way down my chest, and cups my breast through my shirt.
My nipples are rock hard, and only grow harder as he tugs on the delicate silver bars that run through them, sending little zaps of electricity down to my core.
I trail my hand from his neck down his muscular back and to his hip, and continue toward his thigh. He feels strong, solid under my touch. He’s so much bigger than me, and his masculinity is intoxicating.
For the first time in what feels like forever, being around a man isn’t scary. There’s nothing I want more than to be with Dex, right here, right now.
He lets out a soft groan as my hand makes contact with his inner thigh, and trails its way across to his cock, which already strains through his pants.
I won’t lie and say I hadn’t thought about what it would be like, and I’m not disappointed. Even through the material, I can tell he’s above average—nothing about this man is average, so no surprises there.
He groans again softly as I rub him through his pants.
His hands roam my body, pulling my shirt over my head, tugging at my jeans until we’re both naked, skin to skin.
His body is a work of art, all rippling muscle and inked skin, and when I glance down, my breath catches at the sight of him.
His massive cock glimmers in the light. “Holy shit,” I murmur, eyes widening as I take in the piercings. A Prince Albert and a Jacob’s ladder. “Well, that’s…” I can’t find the words.
He smirks. “Not what you were expecting?”
I bite my lower lip.
“I didn’t know what to expect. Definitely didn’t expect all the hardware,” I say, gesturing toward his piercings.
Dex chuckles, the sound low and throaty. “Nice guys can have big dicks too, you know. They don’t just get handed out to the assholes. Pierced ones, as well.”
I laugh, the tension easing. “Fair. And this is getting weirdly close to that one speech in Team America: World Police. ”
“Do you want to talk about old movies, or do you want to fuck?” He leans in close, hunger in his eyes.
I bite my lower lip again as I lean down.
“Definitely want to talk about movies,” I joke, reaching out to touch his cock.
He groans at my touch.
Then his gaze darkens as he trails his fingers down my body, stopping between my legs. He groans softly as he feels how wet I am, and the sound sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through me.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Margaux,” he murmurs, his voice reverent. “And so fucking ready for me.”
He kisses his way down my chest, stopping at each nipple to swirl his tongue around them, sucking and tugging gently on the little silver bars. I moan, feeling the sensation all the way to my pussy, which clenches in anticipation.
His mouth continues its journey, stopping at my belly button. I moan as he swirls his tongue around the outside, and then within, exploring every part of my navel.
Then he yanks my thighs apart and licks me from my clit to my back entrance. “God, you taste good,” he growls.
I moan and arch my back as his tongue attacks my clit, swirling around my rose pink bud. He sucks on my clit and my hips buck as he continues to feast on me.
“Dex,” I moan, as he first points and then flattens his tongue against my entrance, and then trails it upward, back to where he started.
My hips roll as he fans his tongue over my lips and up to my clit, and he continues his assault on my swollen bud.
I can’t help but tilt my head forward so I can get a better view of his expert tongue working my clit, and he returns my gaze with his gorgeous hazel-green eyes which are now darkened with lust.
My teeth clamp down on my lower lip as my orgasm builds, the coil within me tightening and tightening until it suddenly crests and takes me over.
I yell, “Oh fuck,” as white stars explode in the corner of my eyes, but this time they’re because of pleasure, and I wrap my thighs tightly around his head as he continues to lap at my pussy while I ride out my orgasm.
Finally, it subsides, and I push him away as the sensitivity becomes too much.
He lifts his head and smirks at me, my arousal still slick across his mouth and chin which he doesn’t seem to mind at all.
When he finally enters me, it’s like coming home. He puts his weight on me, and I feel dominated by his imposing figure, and I like it.
His piercings drag against my walls, hitting spots I didn’t even know existed. He moves slowly at first, letting me adjust to him, but when I moan and arch my back, he picks up the pace, driving into me with a fervor that leaves me breathless.
“It’s okay to be a bit rougher with me, you know. I can handle it,” I pant.
I can’t help but feel he might be tiptoeing and being overly gentle, as if I’m fragile. As if he might break me. And that makes me sad.
“Okay, if that’s what you want, I’m into it, too,” he whispers back. “But I want to make sure I don’t do anything to hurt you, because that’s the last thing I want to do. I want to make you feel safe and protected and worshipped like you deserve.”
Good chills roll through my body. “And I want to feel safe and… ravished, please?”
He continues to thrust, harder now. “Oh, absolutely. But know there’s nothing I’d do in this world to harm you, or put you in danger.”
“I can feel that. I feel entirely safe around you.”
He nods, and begins to thrust harder.
“But I’m totally fine with you doing dirty, dirty things to me. I want you to toss me around, throw me over your shoulder, fuck me hard. Because to me, that’s good pain. That’s the kind I want.”
“I want to show you how it’s meant to be,” he growls.
“I—.”
“Margaux, it’s okay,” he says, continuing to thrust.
“I want you to hurt me,” I pant.
“You say what now?” He quirks a brow, but doesn’t stop thrusting.
“I don’t want all that gentle shit. I’m not a fragile piece of china that you need to handle delicately in case I shatter.” I clench my pussy tighter around his cock and he lets out a soft groan. “I’m already shattered, and I’ve finally started to feel like I’ve put myself together again. I want to feel something. So stop acting like you’re walking on fucking eggshells around me and fuck me properly.”
He gazes into my eyes. “You’re sure that’s what you want?”
I return his gaze, unflinching. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“Alright then,” he says. “But I can stop at any?—.”
I glare at him and place a finger over his lips.
“Shut the fuck up and give it to me, Dex.”
“Your wish is my command,” he says, and he starts going to town, pounding into me with an intensity that makes his body slap against my pussy every time he buries himself in me all the way to his hilt.
“Fuck, Dex,” I gasp, clutching at his shoulders. “Don’t stop.”
“Never,” he growls, his hands gripping my hips as he pounds into me, each thrust sending me higher and higher. “I’ll never stop. Not until you’re screaming my name.”
And I do. Again and again.
“That’s it, Margaux, baby. Come for me,” Dex growls, his thrusts becoming even more frenzied.
I come apart around his cock, my pussy contracting around his length as I shatter into a million pieces.
Dex moans my name as he follows suit, filling me with his hot seed. “Fuck, Margaux,” he groans.
For a moment, we lay there panting, our bodies still connected as we catch our breath. Finally, Dex pulls out and collapses next to me on the bed.
My head nestles into the crook of his armpit where I fit perfectly.
I smile as I gaze up at him, and he smiles back.
My heart melts.
Because with Dex, it’s not just about the physical. It’s about everything he’s giving me that I didn’t know I needed.
It’s about trust.
It’s about healing.
It’s about love.
“Well,” he says, running a hand through his sweaty hair, “I think we just made up for lost time.”
I can’t help but laugh, my body still tingling from our intense coupling. “I’d say so,” I reply, nuzzling into his chest. “But don’t think you’re off the hook yet, babe. We still have a lot of catching up to do.”
Dex grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, I have no doubt we’ll find ways to pass the time,” he purrs, his fingers trailing a lazy pattern on my stomach. “And who knows? Maybe we’ll even make it to dinner tonight.”
But right now, I’m not so sure either of us is leaving this bed anytime soon.
And as for me?
I’m absolutely—without a doubt—Dexmatized.