• Twenty-Nine •
“I didn’t fuck you. If I had, your tight cunt would know it.”
Capri
My eyes snapped open, and the darkness in my room with only the moonlight coming in through the window told me I’d done it again. Woken up for no reason. Straight out of a deep sleep. Annoyed because it had taken me forever to go to sleep, I sighed and rolled onto my back.
The scream that came from my mouth was immediately muffled by Thatcher’s hand as I stared up at him, realizing the dark figure towering over my bed was him. My heart continued to hammer against my chest, but I stopped screaming.
What was he doing here? Better yet, how had he gotten in here?
I hadn’t seen him all day, and because my phone was lost, I didn’t know if he’d called or texted me. I doubted either. He wasn’t the type.
He removed his hand from my mouth, then traced my lips with his finger. My body did a complete one-eighty and went from terrified to excited just that quickly. My heart was erratic now for other reasons. He was here in my room again.
His finger trailed down my chin, neckline, and then played with the satin edge of my camisole. “I like this one best.”
This one what? My camisole? It was a white satin camisole top that had matching white sleep shorts. But he had never seen it or any of the things I slept in.
“You changed the sheets,” he said. His voice sounded raspy.
I nodded. “There was something on the others.”
The sadistic curl of his lips made me shiver.
“My cum,” he said.
His cum? Wait! What? Had we …
My eyes widened as I stared up at him, trying to remember more.
“Easy, little doll,” he said as his finger ran over my breast and started circling my nipple through the fabric. “I didn’t fuck you. If I had, your tight cunt would know it.”
My breathing hitched when I heard him talk about my cunt feeling him after he’d been inside me. I wanted to know that. If it was an ache or even pain, I wanted it.
“You were lying here, all precious and sated. Your thighs open wide. Your bare pussy wet and swollen. It didn’t take many jerks before I shot my load on that sweet skin.” He tugged up my top until my breasts were bare. His gaze stayed on them as he began to play with them. “You looked like an angel. My cum slipping down your flat stomach until running over your pink pussy lips and down your thighs.”
He’d jerked off over me last night while I was asleep. That was … bad. Right? Wrong? I hadn’t been conscious. I should be upset or horrified. Instead, I squirmed, needing to hear more. I loved the deep timbre of his voice, but it was better when he was saying vulgar things.
His eyes snapped up to mine. “You like that,” he said. “It’s making your pussy wet?”
I nodded slightly. No need to deny it.
He took the covers and pulled them back until they were crumpled on the floor at the foot of the bed. Reaching down, he took my right leg and lifted it, then laid it open.
“These are definitely my favorite,” he drawled. “White, pure, except here. It’s wet. The satin is darker. No one sees your dirty secret but me.”
I was panting. I could hear myself. My body was shivering. Every word he spoke, I was closer to ripping my clothes off and begging.
“Smelling your panties wasn’t enough today. Neither was rubbing my cock with them. I still craved this,” he told me as he reached for my bottoms and began tugging them down my legs.
“What panties?” I asked.
He looked from my bare vagina to me. “The ones you wore last night. The ones you soaked with your needy juices. I took them. Licked them. Fucked them.”
I covered my eyes with my arm. “Oh God.”
I was picturing him doing all those things. But the image of him rubbing his dick with them was really doing it for me. Why was his outrageous, obscene behavior so freaking hot? Probably because he was so freaking hot.
“Where are the ones you wore today? You’re not wearing any for me to take tonight. Being naughty. Did you touch this cunt when you got in bed?”
I’d started to. I’d been thinking about him when I climbed in, and I wanted to get off. But it hadn’t been enough. Now that I’d had his mouth down there, I doubted my fingers would ever bring me there again.
“I didn’t,” I told him.
“You didn’t touch yourself?”
I shook my head. “I tried, but it didn’t feel like it used to.”
He ran a finger between my folds, and I let out a cry of pleasure from finally having him there. I watched him take the same finger and lick it, then suck it hard into his mouth. I slammed my legs together and squeezed, needing to ease the ache.
“No, no,” he scolded, opening my legs back up. “I need these creamy thighs open. You want that pussy eaten, don’t you?”
Yes. God, yes. I nodded and whimpered at the same time.
His mouth curled into a wicked smile as he lowered his head, keeping his eyes on me. “Good girl,” he whispered. “You are such a good girl. For everyone except me. You open your legs for me. Let me play with that perfect, untouched pussy. You let me taste it.”
His tongue ran up the center, and I grabbed handfuls of the sheet beneath me.
“YES!” That was what I wanted.
Thatcher let out a snarl as he grabbed my thighs, pressing me open wider, and buried his face against me. He rubbed my vagina all over his face as he made animalistic sounds, lapping at me as his mouth brushed against any part of my sensitive flesh.
“FUCK!” he shouted, moving back.
His shoulders rose and fell. I could hear his heavy breathing.
“You’re gonna fuck my face. I want you riding me. I need this pussy smothering me while you squirt all over me.”
He rolled over, lying on his back, and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Get on my face,” he demanded.
His face? What in the world? I moved over and got up on my knees beside him. One of his hands was rubbing his erection through his pants. The other one was pulling me to him.
“Straddle my face.”
My eyes widened. He was being literal. He wanted me to actually put my vagina over his mouth and ride him? I shivered.
He flicked his tongue at me, then winked. “You want it on your pussy? Come take it.”
I climbed over him and did as he’d told me to. My thighs straddled his face, and his hands grabbed the tops of my legs and pulled me down until his magical tongue touched where I needed it. When I sank down onto him, he hummed against me in appreciation.
As I rocked slightly, my clit rubbed against his open mouth. His tongue lay flat as I pressed against it. His hands moved to my butt and grabbed handfuls and squeezed as he brought me closer, then sank his tongue inside me and began to mimic fucking. I grabbed on to the headboard and bounced gently.
A deep sound came from him, and I felt the vibration between my legs. I felt his body jerk, and I glanced back to see his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it. That was big. I’d seen it before in the tack room, but it seemed larger now. How did those fit? Pausing, I stared at the thick, swollen head and veins that stood out until I saw the flash of metal at the base.
What was that?
He groaned and began sucking my clit. My hands squeezed the headboard, but I kept looking over my shoulder as he worked his hand over his erection hard and fast. I hadn’t thought the sight of that would be beautiful, but it was. I wanted to do it. I wanted to see his face when he got off.
His tongue flicked hard, and I began losing focus as I moved faster, feeling the tickle of the orgasm that was about to break free. Desperate for it now, I began riding his mouth and taking my pleasure.
“OH GOD!” I shouted as the moment before the climax grabbed me, then let go, and the delirium once again took me. “AH! AH!”
A warm gush felt like it sprayed out from between my legs. What was that?
Thatcher let out a savage sound and shoved his finger inside me as he lapped at me like a wild animal who was lost in its own craving. I sobbed out his name as another jolt racked my body at the sight of him. Slowly, I began to come back down, and his tongue was too much. A deep growl and heavy breathing hit my thighs as I lifted up to move off his face. When his eyes met mine, they seemed lost, and an almost-vulnerable look came over his face.
“FUUUCK,” he shouted, and his body jerked.
Realizing what was happening, I swung my gaze to his cock to see thick white ropes of cum coming out with each pump of his hand. He made more sounds of pleasure, but I couldn’t look back to his face. I was transfixed on this. It was incredible.
I wanted to touch it. Taste it. Feel it. He’d shot all that on me last night. I wished I’d been awake to see it. I’d have been able to feel it then. Was it hot? Warm?
“Not enough,” he said, snapping my attention back to his face. He sat up, grabbing my shoulders, and spun me around, then shoved me onto my back. “I want more.” His voice sounded as if he had lost some control. There was a hedonic gleam in his eyes as he opened my legs and began licking at me as if he couldn’t stop himself.
“No,” I begged.
It was still sensitive. Having him down there was almost painful. I squirmed, and he grabbed my hips, holding me still.
“That’s too much, Thatcher,” I whined.
He ignored me and moaned against my clit. That changed things. It wasn’t hurting anymore. The stirring of pleasure was back, and I gasped as he shoved his middle finger inside me.
“Soak my face, little doll.”
I panted his name as I clawed at the sheets. The spark hit, and I bucked off the bed as I exploded.
I felt the wet rush shoot out of me and heard the wetness as he praised me, lapping it up loudly as I continued to shiver.
I sighed in relief when he finally stopped. My eyes were closed, and I was struggling to catch my breath, but I felt completely content.
Thatcher’s hand brushed my hair back from my face. I smiled, enjoying his touch more than anything I could ever remember. The covers came up over me, and I sighed contentedly. His deep, heavy breathing was the last thing I heard before I drifted off to sleep.