9. Reaper #2
“Kane,” she purrs, arching her back. Her cleavage dips towards me, giving a perfect view of the freckle hiding just out of sight beneath the top of her dress.
I sit up and grab her waist, eagerly shoving my face in her tits and licking that tiny speck of skin.
She fists my hair and gasps, but I don’t stop there.
I kiss every inch of her chest until I reach her neck.
“Siren,” I breathe, nipping her throat. “Sing for me, beautiful. I need to hear you.” My fingers slip beneath her dress, gliding up the back of her thigh as I suck a bruise onto her skin.
Pain rips through my scalp as she pulls my hair and tears my mouth off of her body. It blends beautifully with the muted pleasure of her rocking hips, and I moan. “ Fuck , baby,” I rasp, staring up into her doe eyes. Those pouty lips deserve a kiss, but she’s not letting me get close enough…
“Why don’t you sing for me?” Cupping my jaw with her free hand, she presses the pad of her thumb to the plush center of my bottom lip. “Don’t you want to please me, Kane?”
Fuck, she’s good.
I swipe my tongue against her thumb, and she pushes it inside my mouth.
“Suck,” she commands, not giving me a choice.
She pushes in past the knuckle and trembles as I do as she asks, hollowing my cheeks and making a show of it.
If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s sucking dick, and a finger can’t compare.
But the way Mercy’s eyes flutter, you’d think I was sucking her dick.
Her cheeks flush bright red, and I’m suddenly enraptured, unable to look away.
Imagine if I was sucking her clit. Fuck, she’d come undone.
“G-good boy,” she praises meekly, popping her thumb out and cupping my cheek. Saliva smears across my lips, but I don’t give two shits. I’d much rather have her cum all over my goddamn face.
“Let me eat you out.” I lift my hands up her skirt and grab the elastic of her panties.
I bet she’s soaked. Licking my lips, I abandon her underwear and grab her ass, pulling her up my body.
She fights against me—stubborn fucking woman—scraping her knees on the dirt and landing woefully far from my face.
With a growl, I try again, and she falls forward, smashing my face with her pillowy tits.
It’s not what I was hoping for, but it’s still nice.
She scrambles off of me fast as lightning, though, and I don’t have a chance to enjoy it. Standing up, she straightens her skirt and plants her hands on her hips. “No thank you.”
Most girls like—no, love —being eaten out. Face sitting, however, can be out of their comfort zones if they’re not confident in their partner’s ability to breathe orrrrr… they’re inexperienced.
I stare at Mercy with fresh eyes, taking in the flush of her skin in a whole new light.
I’d imagined her as a blushing virgin earlier, but I hadn’t hoped for it to be true.
That would be too perfect. She would be too perfect.
Rather than straight up ask her about it, I arch my arms over my head and flex my hips, giving her a good, hard look at my erection.
I’m tenting like crazy, and impossible it’s to miss.
When she does me the favor of staring at my dick, I make a show of it, running my hand down my chest until I reach the button of my jeans.
I pluck my waistband, eager to strip down.
“Want to see?”
If spontaneous combustion were possible, Mercy would burst into flames. A layer of sweat suddenly clings to her skin, and she shifts her weight from foot to foot, biting her sumptuous bottom lip.
What I wouldn’t give to slide my cock between her lips.
Popping the button and unzipping my fly, I slowly inch my pants below my hips, giving her plenty of time to change her mind.
Turn around. Give herself away. My balls tighten as I imagine driving my dick into her slick center and pulling back to find my shaft smeared with blood.
Fuck. There’s nothing like virgin pussy. Creamy, delicious, eager?—
I grab my cock through my boxers and thrust, groaning. “C’mere,” I rasp, squeezing my shaft. “I want you to touch me.”
It’s like Mercy wakes from a dream. I half expect her to wipe drool from the corner of her mouth, but no, she stands her ground, having the audacity to feign boredom. “If you need to come, then come already.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s not that impressive.”
Blood rushes to the head on top of my shoulders.
What did she just say?
Oooooh—
With a smirk, I pull my boxers down and free my dick, feeling it slap against my stomach.
Mercy’s eyes widen and she stops breathing, but I don’t stop, quickly hooking the elastic band beneath my balls.
With one hand cupping my jewels and the other wrapped tightly around my shaft, I stroke eagerly.
Vigorously. Tossing my head back and moaning.
Shit. This wasn’t meant to feel this good.
I only wanted to get a rise out of Mercy, but instead it looks like I might actually?—
It takes a pitifully short amount of time for me to come, my dick pulsing in my palm as thick ropes cover my stomach. The last few spurts drip onto my hand, and I drag in a lungful of air, feeling my thigh muscles twitch.
I hate that she had to see that. Her first impression of me is going to be the wrong one. She’s going to think that I can’t last—that my dick game is weak . I quickly sit up and wipe my hand on my jeans. “Mercy?—“
Her hand covers her face, and it looks like she’s trying not to laugh.
My ego bruises immediately, flaring white hot.
I jump to my feet, making her flinch. Grabbing my waistband to hold up my pants, I close the distance between us in three short strides and grab her hand before she can run away.
“ Mercy ,” I repeat, unable to hide the venom from my voice. “Clean up your mess.”
“My—” Her eyes flash and she tries to pull away. “ Your ?—”
I slap her hand against my abs, stickying her fingers in my cum. Together, I smear our hands in the mess, knowing that she’ll find it gross. That she’ll run. That I can chase her.
My release is still warm from the heat of my skin, and my muscles twitch beneath her touch. “ Your mess,” I repeat, “because this is your fault.”
Her eyes narrow into slits. “ What? ”
“If you had let me eat you out like a good girl…” I lace our fingers together with my hand covering hers.
“…then this cum would have been inside you where it belongs. Instead, it’s been wasted.
” I click my tongue. Oral sex would have been the appetizer, but after she’d come all over my face, I would have loved to bury my load deep inside her virgin pussy.
The anticipation is going to kill me. A trill of electricity shoots down my spine, tingling my balls and making it that much harder to focus on anything other than the way Mercy’s mouth forms a scandalized, yet goddamn sexy, perfect O .
“Y-you’re the one who started jerking off!”
“You didn’t stop me,” I point out, lifting an eyebrow. “I think you enjoyed the show.”
She chokes on her saliva, coughing but not denying it. “How could I stop a nymphomaniac?”
Whooooa, hold on?—
“I’m not a nympho.” I grip her fingers tighter. “Repeat it. Say, ‘I know you’re not a nympho, Kane.’”
She digs her fingernails into my stomach, attempting to rile me up.
But I’m already burning for this girl, and the pain only makes me want her more.
I lick my lips and ignore the warmth pooling in my belly.
“Say it,” I growl, grabbing the belt cinched around her waist. “Tell me that I’m not a nymphomaniac! ”
That’s the biggest fucking insult I’ve ever heard.
I don’t fuck people just to get my rocks off—I fuck people so that I can feel every goddamn beat of this rock inside my chest. So that I can feel every breath that fills my lungs.
Every scratch of nails on my skin and scream blasting my ears.
It’s the purest form of life, feeling every cell in your body set on fire.
I burn from the inside out over and over again, because it’s the best goddamn feeling in the world.
A virgin won’t understand that.
I can’t help but laugh at the irony. God, the one woman I can’t wait to sink my dick into thinks I’m a sex addict.
What a fucking joke. I release Mercy’s hand and her belt and use my shirt to wipe the cum from between my fingers, but I leave the mess on my torso.
It’s going to be a bitch to clean without a shower.
Clenching my jaw as tight as I can, I resist the urge to scream. “Get out of my sight.”
Mercy’s doe eyes pain me this time. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Too fucking late. “Go home, Mercy. I don’t want to see you right now.” Fixing my jeans, I try not to glare at her, but it’s really hard.
I’ve never wanted to prove someone wrong so badly in my entire life, but I have no clue how to do that.
If I have sex with her now, she’s just going to think that I’m adding another notch to my bedpost. But explaining the nuances of my sexual appetite isn’t something I want to share with anyone, let alone the woman who just insulted me to my face.
I’ll have to calm down if I’m going to win the game, but with twelve whole months ahead of us, that doesn’t have to be right now.
Besides, maybe some distance will make her think about her mistake and how to make it up to me.
I avoid looking at her as I turn around, knowing that if I see a tear in her eye, I’ll really want to make her cry.
Pretty girls don’t fall in love with the men who put them there.