Chapter 16 #3
“Fuck. Jessa.” He groans. His forehead drops to mine as he sinks deeper, inch by relentless inch. “You are so goddamn tight. You are squeezing me like a vise. So perfect.”
The stretch burns deliciously. My walls flutter and grip his thick length as he bottoms out.
He holds still for a heartbeat, letting me adjust, his chest heaving against mine.
Then he starts to move, slowly at first, deep, rolling thrusts dragging against every nerve inside me.
The heavy counter shifts under us with the force of each one, a low, solid thud beneath the slap of skin on skin.
“What if the girls wake up?” I pant even as my legs wrap tighter around his waist and pull him deeper.
“They won’t,” he growls, snapping his hips harder. “Door’s shut, they’re out cold. Just let go, Jessa. Let me feel you come.”
His pace quickens, turning desperate, skin slapping against skin, the slick sounds of us filling the quiet kitchen. He leans down to capture my mouth again, swallowing my moans as one hand kneads my breast and pinches the nipple. His other hand grips my ass, angling me so he drives even deeper.
I come hard the first time, crying out into his mouth as my body clamps down around him, waves of pleasure crashing through me. He doesn’t stop, fucking me through it, drawing it out until I’m shaking and raw.
Before I can catch my breath, he pulls out, spins me around, and bends me over the counter. My breasts press to the cold marble as he thrusts back into me from behind in one smooth stroke. The new angle is devastating, his cock dragging along that perfect spot with every snap of his hips.
“Oh God,” I moan, pushing back to meet him as he reaches around to rub my clit in tight circles. I shatter again, my second orgasm ripping through me even harder than the first, my legs trembling so badly they barely hold me up as the aftershocks roll on.
Marcus stays buried deep, his thick cock still pulsing inside me.
One large hand slides up my back, fingers tangling roughly in my hair, yanking my head back, arching my spine as he leans over me.
His mouth finds the side of my neck, sucking and biting while his other hand grips my hip hard enough to leave marks.
Each thrust slows and deepens, every stroke deliberate, grinding, letting me feel every inch of him stretching me open.
His tongue traces the shell of my ear, then dips to lick along my throat.
“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs against my skin, his breath sending shivers down my spine.
His hands are so big I feel small in them, claimed, one palm easily spanning my hip while his fingers dig in and drag me back onto him.
I whimper at the overwhelming fullness, my body still fluttering around him. He keeps me there a long while, fucking me with slow, powerful strokes while his mouth devours my neck and shoulder. Then, with a low sound of need, he pulls out only long enough to flip me around again.
He lifts me and turns me to face him once more. I wrap my legs high around his waist as he pins me to the counter with his body. The shift is seamless, effortless with his strength. He drives into me with renewed ferocity, the raw power in him letting him go on without mercy.
Sweat slicks our skin. His hands bruise my hips, his mouth latching on to my neck, sucking marks I know I’ll feel tomorrow. Every thrust drives deep, claiming, his cock filling me completely, stretching me wide.
“It’s too much, Marcus, I can’t,” I cry out near the end, overwhelmed, tears slipping down my cheeks as the pleasure tips toward unbearable. My whole body shakes, every nerve raw after two shattering orgasms.
“Sure you can,” he snarls, his voice rough, his grip tightening almost painfully on my hips as he thrusts harder, pounding into me with deep, punishing strokes. “Take it, Jessa. Come on my cock one more time. You can do it.”
That last roughness shoves me over the edge, and I come on a sharp, broken sob, my walls spasming around him hard enough to drag his release loose with them. With a guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt, spilling deep inside me, pulsing hot and endless as his body shudders against mine.
We stay locked together, both of us panting, trembling, his forehead resting against my shoulder, his arms banding tightly around me. The kitchen lamp throws long shadows over our joined bodies. Nothing breaks the quiet but our ragged breathing and the faint tick of the house going still around us.
Marcus finally eases out of me, and I ache at the loss. He leans down and kisses my forehead with surprising sweetness. I try to pull away, my legs shaky under me, reality starting to creep back in.
“And where do you think you’re going?” he asks, the words low, possessive.
I stammer something incoherent, my mind still hazy, and before I can form a real answer, he hauls me up into his arms. He carries me off against his chest with no effort at all, leaning close, his teeth grazing my ear on a soft bite. “I’m still hungry.”
A fresh pulse of heat runs through my pussy at his words. Wrung out as I am, I still want him, and I know I’m in for a long night.