Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
On Sunday afternoon, Asha stood at Zane’s doorstep, clutching a warm casserole dish and debating her decision to visit him. During the past week, Zane had been a constant presence at her parents’ home, assisting with various tasks—from cleaning and repairing the kitchen, to mowing the lawn and fixing the leaky showerhead. His unwavering support had been invaluable, especially with her father now home but still weak, and her mother transferred to a rehabilitation center.
She was almost ready to retreat, when the door swung open.
Zane’s eyes, green in the sunlight, lit up as he spotted her before he lowered his gaze to her hands. A day’s worth of scruff shadowed his jaw, a shade darker than his tousled hair—a mix of sun-kissed gold and light brown that always seemed to defy categorization. His jeans were crisp, his shirt pristine and wrinkle-free, but his hair looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed.
“For me?” His lips curved into an easy smile.
She looked down, feeling awkward. “Um, yeah.” She pressed the dish into his hands. “I made you a tater-tot hotdish.”
“You remembered it’s my favorite?”
She nodded, her self-consciousness flaring under the intensity of his smile.
“Come in.” He stepped aside. “I just made some coffee. Want a cup?”
She hesitated for a beat, then nodded and entered his home.
Asha followed him into the house, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the aroma of the casserole. They settled at the breakfast table, sunlight streaming through the window.
“How are your parents doing?”
“About as good a could be expected at this time in their recovery, I suppose.” She cradled the warm mug between her hands, stealing glances over the rim at the gorgeous man on the other side of the breakfast table. “I’m grateful for your help, you know.”
“It was my pleasure, and it doesn’t hurt the eyes being around you.”
Asha couldn’t help snorting about that comment.
Zane raised his left eyebrow until it almost touched his hairline. “You do know you’re even more gorgeous than you were in high school, right?”
“If you say so.” She lifted one shoulder negligently and peeked at him from under her eyelashes.
His skin was a warm golden brown from countless hours spent under the sun. It would deepen during the summer months before lightening slightly during the winter months.
Despite herself, his compliment warmed her from the inside out. She took a tentative sip of coffee. It was hot and strong, just like the man who made it.
Her cheeks warmed.
What the heck am I thinking?
“So, do you have anyone waiting for you?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Just me.” She took another sip of coffee. “How about you?”
“Me neither. I guess I never found the right girl.” He trapped her gaze. “Well, I think I did find her, but she got away once.”
What could she say to that? She had been stupid coming here.
I should have left well enough alone! And not have been giving off mixed signals.
When Zane would find out the truth, he would be mad at her. She’d seen the victim blaming time and time again. She stared into her mug, like the dark brew would have all the answers.
“Do you not like your coffee?”
“Oh yes, I do.” Hastily she took another sip.
He narrowed his eyes without comment.
The silence between them stretched, and she tried to come up with a safe topic to talk about but drew a blank. She didn’t want any sexual innuendos between them, and for a moment she mourned losing the easy rapport they’d shared.
I’m to blame for that.
As he finished his coffee, she slipped off the stool. Her cup was still half full. “I should go.”
“Stay.” Rising from his own stool, he curled an arm around her waist and pulled her into a hard body. “Don’t go.”
As she stared into his stormy eyes, images of her naked, moaning, and writhing in ecstasy beneath his skillful hands assaulted her. Her soul yearned for him, and her body ached for him to touch her, to fill her.
Zane flexed his fingers around her hip. “Be with me.”
Although it would be a stupid move on her part, she wanted to give in and answer the need that hummed between them. She wasn’t particularly interested in sex or good at it, but she liked to be near to him and do something about the relentless throbbing. And maybe he would hold her for a while after and make her feel safe and secure.
She swallowed hard. “But…I… We…”
With his free hand, he brought her fingers to his mouth. His gaze never left hers.
“I know.” Deliberately, he brushed his lips over each knuckle, letting the softness of the gesture speak what words couldn’t. “We need to talk. Work through this. Fix what’s broken.”
With a ghost of a smile that made her blood pressure spike, he caught her pinkie between his teeth and gave it a teasing nip.
Surprised, she gasped.
Before she could catch her breath or close her parted lips, he moved forward, claiming her mouth with a kiss that stole everything: her thoughts, her doubts, her ability to resist the inevitable.
There was no hesitation in him. No stiff, uncertain strokes or clumsy fumbling. His kiss was urgent and uncompromising, like he needed her the way he needed air.
He devoured and gave all at once, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with intent, coaxing and demanding in equal measure. Her pulse skyrocketed, heart pounding as if trying to keep pace with his need. Her brain scattered, every coherent thought burning away in the heat of his touch, the press of his body, the sheer force of emotion behind his kiss.
When he broke their lip-lock, he whispered against her mouth, “Be mine, Asha.” He sucked on her bottom lip and gave it a nibble before soothing the little indentation his teeth had left with his tongue. Her knees turned weak.
“In my mind, you’ve always been mine. Let’s forget about the past and forget about tomorrow. Let us have this. Be in the moment with me, babygirl. Just feel.”
She wanted to believe it was possible. To believe she could let go of the past and allow herself to stop worrying about what might come next. And maybe it wasn’t simply temptation anymore. Maybe she was already there, fully surrendering in body, mind, and soul.
“Stay with me.” A command wrapped in a plea.
She gave a single nod.
That was all the permission he needed.
Closing the distance in a heartbeat, Zane captured her mouth with a kiss that shattered every barrier. He didn’t hold back. He swept in his tongue like he owned her—like he’d always owned her—and the intensity of his claiming made her knees buckle. She clutched at his shoulders, desperate for something solid as the world tilted.
He licked, bit, devoured—taking her mouth with an all-consuming hunger, dominating, and impossible to resist. One hand tangled in her hair, tightening just enough to send a thrill through her body. The other dug into her hip, pulling her into him until there was no space left between them, only heat and the maddening friction of need.
She couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. All she could do was hang on and ride the wave as her body responded instinctively, as it arched, writhed, and yearned more. Still kissing her, Zane backed her into the wall, anchoring her as if he’d never let her go again.
Shameless now, Asha rubbed herself against the solid thigh Zane pressed between her legs, chasing friction like it was oxygen. A raw moan tore from her throat, her body past the point of pretending this wasn’t exactly what she needed.
He tasted like coffee and heat—dark, rich, with an edge of something primal and unmistakably male. The flavor of him spun through her head, stripping away thought until only want remained. Every reason she’d clung to for why this was a bad idea crumbled beneath the pressure of his mouth, his hands, his presence.
With a growl of determination, Zane gripped her ass, lifted her as though she weighed nothing, and pinned her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them together, and rolled her hips, grinding her needy center against his hard length, chasing relief that only he could give.
“I want to fuck you so bad,” he rumbled. “You with me?”
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled in his neck.
“Baby, do I have your consent?”
Asha blinked, and her brain frog evaporated. No, no, no. She didn’t want to think. “Please, Zane. Please. Make love to me.”
It was all the encouragement he needed. His arms wrapped firmly around her waist, he took her upstairs, two steps at the time.
How was he doing that? Yeah, she’d slimmed down, but she was still a considerable weight. He carried her like she was a miniature dog, not a five-feet-five-inch woman with a big booty.
At the top of the stairs, he turned into a room she assumed was his. She barely had time to register anything before he crossed to the bed, but impressions of the space sank in. It was all earthy tones and dark wood, nothing flashy or staged. Just strong and practical furniture in a clean and lived-in room. The space was as masculine as its owner and made her body respond all over again.
A framed photo above the dresser caught her eye—Zane and two other men in uniform, standing beside a fire engine, all sweaty and grinning. Another showed him suspended halfway up a rock face, harnessed and confident, mid-climb, a look of pure focus on his face.
God, he really was that guy.
And he was carrying her like she was his.
Then the world shifted again.
She landed on the bed with a soft bounce, her breath catching as the mattress dipped beneath his weight a heartbeat later. He didn’t give her time to adjust, to think, to doubt—just blanketed her with heat and power, his body pressed flush against hers.
She reached for him, desperate to taste him again, but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand.
“Nuh-uh, baby girl,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “In the bedroom, I call the shots.”
The words hit her like a live wire. Her breath hitched, her thighs clenching around his hips.
“Oh my god.”
He chuckled low in his throat, then sank his teeth lightly into the fluttering pulse at her neck. She gasped, hips jerking when he ground the thick, unrelenting length of his erection against her clit through their clothes.
“You taste good,” he said, dragging his tongue slowly along the tender skin where her neck met her shoulder. The wet heat of it arrowed straight to her core, and she let out a helpless moan.
She tried to arch into him, to get closer, but his weight pinned her down just enough to remind her she wasn’t in control.
Zane released her wrists and slid his hands down, finding the swell of her breasts through her shirt. He took his time, molding them in his palms, brushing his thumbs over her already tight nipples. Then he shifted lower, tracing the sensitive undersides with teasing fingers that made her body arch despite the way he had her pinned down.
“Zane, please. I…” Asha thrashed her head against the pillow, needing an outlet for the storm inside her—grief, anxiety, tension, all eclipsed now by the roaring fire of lust.
Zane didn’t rush her and simply looked down at her with that unwavering focus she found so compelling. “Do you need to come?”
Her breath caught. Did she? God, yes. Her body was practically vibrating with need. Orgasms were her go-to for stress relief—quick, efficient, reliable. Her fingers never let her down. But this… this wasn’t about merely release.
Because she’d never come with a man before.
She bit her lip, shame flickering in her chest even though she hadn’t done a damn thing wrong.
“Say it, baby,” Zane coaxed. “I need to hear you say it.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, Zane. Please… please make me come.”
The moment the words left her mouth, a jolt of vulnerability surged through her. She tensed beneath him, half-expecting judgment, mockery, rejection?—
“Hey, hey, hey.” His tone gentled instantly as he cupped her cheek, anchoring her with his warmth. “What’s going on in that clever mind of yours?”
She couldn’t answer. Not right away. The room had dimmed into soft shadows, but she could still discern the shift in his eyes—more brown than green now, warm and open.
“I’m here,” he said quietly. “With you. No pressure. No games. If something’s too much, if you want to slow down or stop—just say the word.”
Stop? Was he serious?
“Darn it, Zane!” she burst out, frustration and emotion tangling in her chest. “What do you want? I just told you I want you to make me come. No, I don’t want to stop!”
He cocked his head. “Your mouth says you want to, but your body is screaming ‘no’, right now.” He nodded at her hands, that were fisted in his shirt.
Asha uncurled her fingers, closed her eyes, and sighed.
He was being open and honest with her, and she could return the favor here, in bed.
Even if you’re less than honest with him about the past , a nasty little voice sniped in the back of her head.
She pushed away the voice, opened her eyes, and made direct eye contact with Zane. “I would love to make love with you. I would enjoy an orgasm, but I don’t have a quick trigger and can’t easily come.”
Zane rolled to the side, propped up on one elbow, and stroked her side with his free hand. He was always touching her in some way, and Asha liked it. Tentatively, she reached out to run her hand over his hip and muscled thigh.
“That’s good information to have, babe. What helps you come?”
She blinked. “No one has ever asked me that.”
“Then your lovers were morons.”
He said it so matter-of-factly, she burst into giggles.
Once she’d calmed from her fit of laughter, Zane was grinning. “Laughter looks good on you.” He stroked her cheek before resuming his long, slow strokes from her shoulder to her hip. “Now, please answer the question.”
“Why do you insist on talking at a moment like this?” She peeked up at him from under her lashes.
A slow smile curved his lips. “For one thing, I’d rather ask for directions than being fumbling around. And I really want us to be on the same page.” He circled her hipbone with his thumb. “Because I want to make you come.” He dipped his head, his breath ghosting over her lips. “And I want you to realize that consent isn’t a one-time thing, babygirl. It’s a conversation.”
Her heart stuttered at the way he said it. No man had ever cared to ask. No one had ever treated her desire as something that mattered.
But Zane did.
And damn, if that didn’t make her want him even more.
“Now, answer the question.”
She had to think for a moment to remember their conversation, almost wished she didn’t. Her cheeks heated. This was a time a girl had to appreciate her skin color. By now, a white woman would have betrayed her embarrassment with a fierce blush. She inhaled sharply and quickly confessed, “I like to finger myself to orgasm before sleep.” She tried to roll on top of him, but he stilled her with his hand on her shoulder and pressed her back against the bed.
“Every night?”
She bit her lips and slowly nodded.
“That’s good information. How?”
She blinked. “How what?”
“Do you lie on your back, side or belly? Do you rub your clit directly or over the hood? Do you finger-fuck yourself or do you concentrate on your pleasure pearl?”
“Oh my god. Are you really asking all this?”
“Babygirl.” His grip on her shoulder tightened until she made eye contact. “I’m very serious about making you come. I can go the trial-and-error route, finding your hot spot and triggers, but as tense and in your head as you are, I can do with a little help.”
Honestly, when she pushed past the embarrassment, it felt good that he cared this much about her needs. “I prefer lying on my belly. I don’t like direct contact with my clit, so I set my finger on top of the hood, and I keep at it until I come.”
“Good girl.” Zane kissed her, licking at the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. She opened for his tongue, giving him her own. When they came up for air, he had somehow managed to unbutton her blouse and push it off her shoulders, essentially trapping her arms. She tried to shrug off the garment, but he halted her movements. “Ever tried bondage?”
“What? No!”
“All right. Do you trust me to take care of you?”
“I do.”
“Perfect. I’m going to use your shirt to bind your arms.”
“Why?”
“Well, firstly, I don’t want you to touch me right now.”
Dismay washed through her.
“No, no, no. Just drop those ugly thoughts going through your head. It’s just, I’ve waited a long time to have you in my bed, and I don’t want to embarrass myself by coming before I’m balls deep inside you.”
“Oh.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes, oh! Now for the next reason: you’re way too much in your head. That’s partly your incredible brain, and partly it’s because modern society puts a lot of pressure on women. When you’re bound and only can take what I give, it frees you from having to do anything other than feel.”
“Okay.”
“Lastly, I love bondage. For me, it’s a huge turn-on to have you at my mercy.” He grinned, and for a moment he looked like the boy she’d left after high school.
“All right. Do I get a safeword?”
He cocked his head.
“I’m not a nun, Zane. I’ve read Fifty Shades .”
His grin widened. “She likes smut.”
His grin was infectious, and she smiled back. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Good,” he whispered against her skin. “Then you’ll love this.”
He dragged her unbuttoned blouse further up her arms until the sleeves cinched at her wrists. He looped the fabric once, then twice, knotting it just enough to keep her hands pinned above her head.
“Your safeword is red, Little Miss Sass.”
The press of cotton tugging at her wrists made her shiver, even though her body was steadily heating from the inside out. Her breath came faster, heart thudding, each beat echoing in her ears like a war drum.
Asha tugged, testing the restraint. The knot held. She couldn’t reach him. Couldn’t pull him closer. That helplessness sent a rush of molten heat to her core, her muscles clenching in anticipation. The scent of him clung to the pillow beneath her head—warm spice, clean soap, and something uniquely male. Her own need had bloomed into the air, too—thick, musky, and unmistakably aroused.
“That’s it,” Zane said, watching her with wicked satisfaction. “Let me see that body beg.”
He peeled the rest of her clothes away with an agonizing slowness, his fingers grazing the flushed surface of her skin like she might break. Goosebumps trailed behind every touch. He kissed the curve of her stomach, then lower, just above her mound, his breath warm and teasing.
She was already slick, the cool air a sharp contrast to her heated flesh. A small sound escaped her lips when he nudged her thighs open with firm hands and stared down at her like he was deciding how to feast.
Zane looked up from between her legs, his gaze locked on hers. “Keep your hands where they are. Don’t move unless I say.”
She swallowed hard, and her pulse spiked. “Yes, Zane.”
“Good girl.” He lowered his head and licked her slit from bottom to right on top of her clit, gliding over it before wiggling the hood.
She gasped and bucked her hips. The sensation was too much and not enough all at once.
His tongue was hot and wet as he explored and savored her, silky and rough in alternating strokes. Every touch lit her nerves on fire. Her thighs tensed. Her breath hitched. Her fingers curled into her shirt, feeling the grain of the fabric beneath her fingertips.
Zane didn’t rush and mapped her with precision, learning her every twitch, every breathless moan. Then he flattened his tongue and dragged it upward, circling her clit with maddening gentleness.
“Oh god…”
He chuckled against her, and the puff of air sent goosebumps down her skin, the vibration seeming to sink into her bones. “Not God. Just me.”
Asha whimpered, straining her hips upward in search of more friction. He stilled her easily, one strong hand braced across her pelvis. His touch was hot and possessive. Her muscles quivered, and her skin prickled with sensation.
“You’ll take what I give you.” The rough command rolled over her and sparked a sharp pull deep within her belly. Her legs trembled.
Zane picked up the pace, flicking her clit in measured, rhythmic strokes, then sealing his mouth over it to suck, with just the right amount of pressure. His tongue moved in perfect counterpoint, relentless and knowing, like he wanted to ruin her for anyone else.
Something inside her snapped.
The orgasm didn’t build—it detonated.
Her back bowed off the bed, thighs trembling, the world narrowing to the searing pleasure crashing through her. Her pulse roared in her ears. Her vision blurred. Her skin felt like it was glowing from within.
Asha cried out, the sound ripped from her throat as white-hot pleasure surged through her like a shockwave. Her back arched, hips bucking despite his firm hold. It was too much, too strong, and yet her body clung to it like she’d die without it.
Her climax rolled through her in crashing waves—one after another, each higher than the last. Her muscles seized and fluttered, her core pulsing around nothing, empty and aching even in the middle of climax. Her skin burned, electric with sensation. Her vision went starry, black at the edges. Her fingers curled into fists, arms tugging instinctively at the restraint, needing to hold onto something as she came apart.
Her thighs trembled. Her breath came in broken gasps.
Still, Zane didn’t relent. He kept licking her through it, easing her down only after every last shudder had wrung itself out of her.
When she collapsed into the mattress, her body felt like melted wax—hot, boneless, and undone. Her heartbeat echoed, loud and uneven.
Then he kissed her inner thigh, slow and reverent, and murmured, “One.”
She blinked up at the ceiling, dazed. The shadows above her swam in and out of focus. “You’re keeping count?”
“Damn right I am.” Zane slid two fingers inside her. Her pussy was still swollen and sensitive from her first orgasm, and his skin was warm and slick with her arousal. The stretch was enough to make her gasp, her walls fluttering around him as her body instinctively tried to pull him deeper. She whimpered, nerves still twitching from the aftershocks, her thighs tense and trembling. Heat bloomed low in her belly again, and a fresh rush of wetness coated his fingers. Her body didn’t care that she’d just come—it clenched down greedily, aching for more, for him, for whatever he chose to give next.
“Again?” he asked softly, his breath hot against her thigh, his fingers curling just enough to make her see stars.
She didn’t know how much time had passed and quite frankly she had lost track of the number of times she’d come. After stripping her naked, he’d laid her on the bed and played her body like an instrument—one he’d clearly had the skills and patience to master.
He hadn’t removed his own clothes. Hadn’t requested anything in return. He’d simply settled in to squeeze as much pleasure from her body that she could give.
Asha swallowed hard as he roamed his intent and sensual gaze over her. She lifted her head in time to see him lower his to her pussy—again! His wide shoulders thwarted her attempt to close her legs. “Please, Zane… no, wait, I can’t take it anymore.”
But she was speaking to deaf man’s ears, with him already lapping at the seam of her pussy—a pussy that was embarrassingly wet and painfully swollen. He ran his mouth over her clit and folds, and she wanted to scream. “Please, no more. I don’t want to come again until you’re inside me.”
When he lifted his head from between her thighs, he shook ‘no’, even if his eyes were flaring with a need that seemed to reflect her own. “You have one more in you.”
“I do. I have. But this isn’t fair.”
He cocked his head. “ It’s not?”
“No, don’t you want to take your own pleasure? What about your needs? This has all been about me.”
“Oh, babygirl, you’re so wrong, and I’m not done.”
She gasped when he lowered his head, spread her folds with his thumbs, and blew hot air over her sensitive clit.
“There is no greater pleasure in driving a woman to climax over and over again until she thinks she can’t give you any more and proving her wrong.”
Asha tugged at the fabric binding her arms, but he’d done too good a job for her to break free. She let out a shuddering sigh as he drove her up and up once again.
Her breasts ached, her nipples tightened to painful peaks, and her pussy throbbed, as he licked and suckled. Her legs muscles twitched, and her stomach clenched. Soft, warm, firm lips engulfed her clit, and he sucked… and then she was coming. The climax was almost painful—her fatigued muscles cramped—but it was also glorious as he lapped up every drop of her come and eased her back. Boneless, she melted into the mattress, vaguely aware of him rising and shedding his clothes.
It should have bothered her that she was too tired and limp to lift her head and watch the spectacle of him undressing. A foil wrapper ripped before his body weight settled back onto the bed.
He stroked sweat-dampened hair from her face. “Still good to go?”
She opened one eye. “Absolutely. Will you untie me first?”
Zane narrowed his eyes as though he considered it. “Any tingling or numbness in your arms?”
“Not in my arms.”
He chuckled. “Good enough. On your back like this will be uncomfortable, though.” He turned her onto her stomach, and she expected him to loosen the bindings, but he didn’t.
Tilting her hips, he positioned himself at her entrance and slowly but smoothly started to sink in. “You’re so fucking hot, tight and slick around my cock, baby girl. You’re almost strangling me.”
The pressure of his cock pushing inside her and the friction as he withdrew an inch before sinking deep was agonizingly good. The prolonged foreplay and her orgasms had left her super sensitive, and she felt every hot, steely inch of him like there wasn’t a thin barrier between them. For a moment, she almost panicked, thinking he hadn’t donned protection before she remembered the foil package and relaxed.
As if he’d been waiting for that moment, he reared back and slammed back into her—rocking the bed.
Zane hammered into her. He wanted to be gentle but couldn’t. For so fucking long he’d wanted her, craved her. And now he had her.
Her pussy was hot and tight and squeezed his cock like a damn fist. Fuck she feels amazing! And she wasn’t passive—no, after her first hesitation, she now met his thrust with bucking hips.
Her breathing hitched, and her inner muscles squeezed him tightly, fluttering around him. “Come when you’re ready.”
Dear god, she became inferno-hot. He slammed into her with such force the bed knocked into the wall. He’d never had headboard-slamming sex before.
“Fuck,” he rasped. Sex-drunk, he rode her hard and dug his fingers into her hips, likely leaving marks. It gave him masculine satisfaction to know she would have the reminder tomorrow.
His balls slapped her pussy each time he drove forward, sending tingles up his spine. “I love the way your cunt is squeezing my dick. You’re close, baby, aren’t you?”
He let go of one hip and slowed his pace. “Press your ass against my groin. That’s a good girl.” He used the freed space to wriggle his hand between her pelvis and the mattress, finding her clit and settling his finger on the hood. He teased the skin and started to lazily pull out and sink back in. She went off like a firecracker, but he didn’t stop.
Gripping her hip again, he fucked in and out of her, enjoying her moans and her cunt’s after-orgasm quivers. He slid his hand from her hip to her nape and immobilized her even more without losing his rhythm.
Like a good little submissive, she melted into the mattress. She wasn’t a good subbie, because she was keeping secrets from him, but he would get to the bottom of that later. For now, he would enjoy her.
Once he let go of her hips, he pressed himself up on his hands, changing his angle. He stared down at the apex of her thighs. “I love stuffing you full.” He withdrew, loving how her blazing hot pussy greedily sucked at him. His shaft glistened with her juices. He sank back in, swiveling his hips and angling a bit more. She stiffened. “Is that your sweet spot, babygirl?” He pulled out, cocked his hips, and surged back in. She moaned. Bingo!
Keeping the angle so he hit her G-spot with every thrust, he fucked her harder. With every forceful surge deeper, he drove her higher, demanding everything she had to offer. His balls tightened, and the telling tingle at the base of his spine warned him he was close. Wanting her to go over with him again, he released her wrists from the shirt and urged, “Finger yourself, babygirl, while I fuck you into the mattress. Come for me one more time.”
Asha gasped. “I don’t think I can.”
“Yes, you can. And you will. For me.” He slowed his pace, adding a hip swivel when he sank back. “Do it.”
Forcing himself to still, he waited for her compliance with his shaft almost completely withdrawn from her body. He held his breath as she hesitated for a few seconds. Then she maneuvered her right arm beneath her body, and when he sank deep, he could feel her rubbing her clit. He had to grit his teeth, because it felt too damn good.
“Good girl. Ready?”
“Yesss.”
Widening his arms and pressing his toes and knees into the mattress for purchase, he began to hammer into her. She went rigid beneath him and stopped breathing before letting out a loud scream as her pussy spasmed and clamped down on his cock.
“God. Damn.” He slammed into her—one, two, three times before letting his release take over. He exploded, filling the condom, crossing his eyes as she milked him with her inner muscles.
His ears rang, his heart was pounding so hard he feared he might pass out. He lowered himself to his elbows, afraid he would collapse on top of her, and pressing his groin against her buttocks, rolled to his side. Spooning her from behind, he held his still-hard cock inside her, while he came down from his high.
When his breathing was somewhat more normal and he was certain his voice would work, he kissed her shoulder and mumbled, “That was amazing.”
“Uh-huh,” she slurred. “Amazing.”
He chuckled. His dick slid from her body, reminding him of his duties. “Need to clean up, babe.” He balked at the idea of leaving the bed, but years of self-discipline made him get up and go to the bathroom.