Chapter 11 #3
Whatever words Jukes anxiously wants to say during my slow descent are swiftly line changed for an airy, “FuckkkkkkGilly.”
Allowing my underworked muscles the opportunity to gradually stretch is meant to be responsible, not torturesome.
Avoid a bit of soreness, not shove me to the edge of a climax already.
No.
I can’t just start coming like I’m some sort of TV virgin about to have the most magical sex of her life.
I’m a grown ass woman.
I should be able to last more than one stroke without jumping onto the O-Town express.
But Godddddddd I don’t want to.
Not when I’m this wet.
And he’s this hard.
And every inch of his dick can be felt in my deepest depths.
Jukes gracelessly rests his forehead against mine at the same he purrs, “You feel so fucking good, Slayer.”
The term as much as the heat of his breath has my drenched muscles swelling.
Preparing to put up the first points of the night.
“So fucking perfect.”
Rolling into the words is mindless.
“And you are so fucking perfect…”
My head lolls backwards, chest crushing into his.
“Perfect…” his lips lightly feather the side of my elongated neck, “for…” they drag themselves down to trace my collarbone causing my hips to hungrily circle, “me.”
One tiny nip is all it takes to have my eyes squeezing shut in pure ecstasy.
White hot thrumming curls around every inch of his cock, enveloping it from base to tip, obsessed with the notion of covering his entire length, claiming him the way he just claimed me.
That he’s claimed me from the moment we met.
“Take whatever you need from me, Slayer,” he instructs prior to grating his teeth across my skin to repeat the action on the other side. “However, you need it.” Cupping my ass gets me arching into him once more. “I’m yours.”
Mewls – I swear I’ve only heard in overdramatic sex scenes on TV – shoot past my parted lips alongside more ferocious rocking that continuously caress my clit.
Light brushes spark the craving for more pressure and in spite of me not saying a single word, Jukes swiftly delivers.
Lets one hand grip my ass while the other clamps down on the back of my thigh.
Yanks me into our incessant grinding.
Forces me to endure the increasing intensity.
Buck into the bliss.
Barbarically bury his dick to the brink.
“You’re such a good girl ridin’ my cock like this…”
Louder, less dainty whimpers attach themselves to more unrestrained heaving.
“Such a good girl sayin’ my number earlier…” An undeniably feral flex of his finger is accompanied by delicious grumble. “Be a good girl again for me.” The digit closest to my back hole grants itself a salacious stroke. “Say. It.”
“Thirty-five,” leaves me in a pant that’s more air than anything else.
“See,” he arrogantly groans, “so perfect, baby.”
Time suddenly ceases to exist as our bodies unremittingly whirl in a barbarous blur of huffs and puffs and back breaking shudders.
Sweat sloppily gets smeared across my back and thighs and knees yet rather than shy away from the stickiness, he embraces it.
Possessively runs his fingers through it, pawing and clawing and praising anything and everything he touches.
Loose hair begins falling from my messy bun, allowing them to be toyed with and tangled whenever my frame is hunched forward instead of back.
Squeaks from the couch create a carnal concert that’s joined by hitched breaths and heavy groaning, all of which become the perfect soundtrack to the best sex I’ve ever had in my life.
“Thirty-five…” thoughtlessly seeps into the air at the same time my lips fall to feather his again, my second o antsy to join the first. “Thirty-five…”
“Take it, Slayer,” he grumbles back before teasingly sliding his tongue across mine. “Take another win.” Tasting him in between him tasting me fuels the building burn as if gasoline to the flames. “Take all the wins.”
Aches in my knees start to grow; however, the heavenly heat licking itself up from my curled toes towards my trembling thighs erases all care and concern for anything that isn’t coming completely undone again.
“Jukes…” I state, voice shaky, soaking wet muscles mimicking its unsteadiness. “Let go with me.”
Whether it’s his final rock or mine that gets our bodies singing doesn’t matter.
Blistering bursts deliciously melding with blazing pulsations, intertwining us in the most intimate way possible, is the only thing on my mind.
And his…considering how he sensually smashes our mouths together.
Syncing the roll of our tongues to that of the euphoric waves down below is an effortless execution, and one I look forward to giving the ABBA treatment.
Keeping it on repeat.
“One minute to spareeeeeeee!” Bronny loudly announces upon his clomping back into the kitchen. “Whoooo!” Scrunching down to keep my naked body from being seen happens on a Madonna sort of prayer. “No reverse lunges for me!”
Jukes tips his head backward over the edge of the couch post winding his arms protectively around my figure. “Go shower.”
“Why?”
“You smell.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You do.”
“Don’t.”
“Do.”
“Don’t.”
“Little bro, you smell like the Nirvana song.”
I snicker against his chest at the grunge music reference I wasn’t expecting.
I swear.
He really does live up to his nickname better than anyone else I’ve ever met.
“Shower,” my sex god instructs again. “Pits. Ass. And feet.”
“My feet aren’t that bad!”
“They smell exactly like the type of chip you ate an entire bag of with dinner. Snipes don’t dig that shit.”
“They could.”
“They don’t.”
“Maybe they would?”
“They won’t.”
“Ughhhhhhhh,” gets groaned during what I am hoping is his exit.
“Use deodorant!” The two of us wait in complete silence until the stomping can be heard above us rather than in the next room.
At that point, our attention drifts back together again, cheeks red, although it’s currently impossible to know if it’s from sex itself or damn near being caught.
“We should hit the showers too, Slayer.” Seeing the corner of his lips curl upward immediately as his cock begins to swell inside me a second time leads me to sinking my teeth into my bottom lip. “Together, of course…”