Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SIMON
I’m almost vibrating with anticipation as Andrés drives towards Monkswood. We don’t take the main driveway, instead he turns into a lane almost half a mile further along the road. It’s narrow, with a canopy of trees, and within a few minutes I see some stone buildings and a few cottages.
“Is this where you live?”
“It comes with the job,” he says. They’re not large, not tiny either, but they do look cozy. He pulls up outside one of them. The next door is clearly occupied as it has lights showing in the windows, but the other two are dark.
“Will your neighbours mind?” I ask, being nosy about them, though I assume they also work for Gabriel. We climb out of the car and I follow him towards the end cottage.
“Kirsty?” He sounds surprised that I asked. “She’s the one who suggested the Blacksmith’s Arms.”
“She knows about me?” I feel trepidation but also a thrill that he’s talked about me to his friends.
“Yes, and her wife, Alexa. They’re pretty great actually. You’ll like them. I want you to meet them. But not tonight.” He opens the front door and pulls me through it, then he turns and stops in front of me.
“Tonight you’re mine.” His dark and husky voice sends a tingle up my spine.
He brings his hands up and cradles my face.
His eyes search mine, with a look that’s as deep as the ocean.
“You’re so beautiful.” His kiss starts soft, but I’m hungry for him and I open up, deepening it straight away.
He groans against my lips and I melt into him.
He pulls my coat off and then I’m tugging at his clothes too.
Within minutes we’re naked, our lips only parting long enough to allow T-shirts to be taken over our heads.
I roam my hands over his body, wanting to feel every inch of his skin as his hard cock rubs against mine, and I can’t help shifting my hips, grinding on him to gain more friction.
He runs his hands down my back, cupping my arse, and I hum, remembering how good it feels.
He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I grip the back of his neck, still kissing him as he carries me into the living room.
He sits on the couch and I straddle him.
I run my fingers through his dark hair, and holding my gaze, he smirks before reaching between us and wrapping his hand round my cock.
I nearly explode at his touch, and his thumb gathers the precum and works it down my length, his long fingers forming a tunnel.
My hips move on their own as I fuck into his hand, unable to stop it, my body responding to him, wanting to make up for being starved of his caress for weeks.
“I want you to fuck me,” I pant. “I need to feel you inside me.”
“You will, cutie, very soon,” he says, his hand increasing in speed and pressure.
I cling on to his shoulders, my fingers digging into him, giving myself over to the movement of his hand.
I can feel the familiar tingle and I try to resist it, holding on as long as possible, but I have no control of my body now.
He does, and I love how he can play me. I jerk, my back arching as I cry out, and I come hard, my orgasm pulled from me.
I relax, my breathing still heavy as he gathers up my cum. He glances up at me and for a minute I think he’s going to offer me his fingers. I lick my lips in anticipation, a gesture he sees, and he gives me a sly smile.
“You want these, cutie?” he asks and I nod.
I’d lick every drop off him if I could. “Not yet,” he says and moves out from under me.
“Kneel on the couch, and hold on to the back.” I adjust my position and he kneels behind me.
He runs one hand down my back, his thumb running down my crease as his fingers grip my arse cheek, then he holds me open as he slides his cum-soaked fingers into me.
First one finger, quickly followed by a second.
“Yes,” I gasp as he works my own cum into my hole, his fingers twisting and opening me up. He adds a third, but I still don’t feel full and want more.
“Fill me up, honey,” I beg unashamedly.
“Honey?” he whispers quietly.
“You like sweet things.” I groan as he thrusts his fingers in harder a couple more times.
“That I do,” he says, kissing the back of my shoulder as he pulls his fingers out abruptly. I whine, hating the emptiness I’m left with. As I feel his cockhead breaching my hole and slipping past the ring of muscles, I sigh, enjoying the burn. Then ever so slowly he pushes into me, inch by inch.
“Oh, cutie, this is divine. I’ve missed your tight hole.
I’ve missed how good it feels with you gripping me.
” His breath is hot on the back of my neck as he slowly sinks in and bottoms out.
My eyes flutter, bliss at finally feeling so full making me feel drunk on pleasure.
His lips graze between my neck and shoulder, where he marked me last time.
“It’s faded,” he whispers against my skin. “Now there’s nothing to show you’re mine.”
“The marks on my skin have faded but not the ones on my heart.” The words slip out, caught up in the moment. But I don’t regret them. Especially when I hear his low shuddering moan.
“Can I do it again?” His voice is rich like treacle, and I would probably let him do anything he wanted.
“Yes,” I whisper, vowing to do something more permanent. He starts moving, slowly at first, and then rolling his hips. His hands hold me round my chest as I grip onto the back of the coach. He sucks a bruise onto my skin and I groan, pain heightening my pleasure.
“Do you remember my promise?” he asks, his voice close to my ear. “Cuando te vea te voy a garchar tan duro que te vas a desmayar.”
“You’re going to fuck me so hard I’ll pass out,” I murmur. I remember it well.
“I’m a man of my word.” He picks up the pace and his thrusts become more violent. I brace myself against the couch, taking everything he’s got and still wanting more.
“And if I pass out? Because if you talk to me in Spanish, it won’t take long.”
“Then I’m here for you, mi amor, I’m here.”
I know enough to understand what he says, and my mouth stretches into a grin as I push back, taking him deeper.
He shifts and grips my hips, and the only sound accompanying us is the slapping of flesh and the grunts and moans we make as he pounds into me.
I flex my back and he hits my bundle of nerves.
Pleasure shoots through me and I gasp, seeing stars.
“That’s it, my cutie. My beautiful Seemon.
Come for me. Being in you is like heaven,” he croons against my back as he keeps up his relentless pace, hammering my prostate until I’m floating and can’t feel my own body.
“I want you to milk me. Milk me, cutie, and I’ll feed it to you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I can’t nod; I can only utter a sound which is something like a yes. My balls tighten and I know I’m going to come again. This time I don’t fight it; I ride the wave of pleasure.
“That’s it, Seemon. Come for me, good boy, come for me.” My orgasm crashes into me, a stormy sea hitting the shore. “Fuck, that’s it,” he shouts as he spasms, and I feel his cum filling me up.
I rest my arms on the back of the couch and lay my head on them, spent and sated.
He withdraws slowly and I feel his fingers against my hole, probing and scooping up everything he put in me.
He sits on the couch and pulls me into his lap.
This time he does offer me his fingers. He rubs them over my lips, smearing cum on them before he slips them into my mouth and I suck on them, savouring every drop.
The delight in his eyes makes my stomach flip and my heart dance.
He takes his fingers back, and with a hand on the back of my neck, he pulls me to him and licks across my lips, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and tasting it before I get lost in his kiss.