10. Vanessa
CHAPTER TEN
VANESSA
Aterritorial man has always been a red flag in my book, but seeing Cupid manhandle Boden for disrespecting and hurting me has turned me positively feral. My hands are roaming all over the hard edges of this sexy man, unable to get enough of him.
“Just so you know, I’m not a rebound or a revenge fuck, Vanessa,” Cupid says against my lips, his hands full of my ass. “This is real and permanent.”
A little warning bell is going off in the back of my head with the verbiage he was throwing around, but I ignore it. The only thing on my mind is having this man inside of me and regaining a piece of myself back from my ex.
Is it a big middle finger to Boden?
Absolutely.
But is revenge the reason I want to fuck Cupid?
Not at all. I wanted him before Boden showed up uninvited. I’ve been fantasizing about this biker since we crossed paths at Buck’s garage.
Cupid dropped a lot of possessive talk in the hallway, but I assume it was said as more of a deterrent in hopes Boden would stop pursuing me.
We haven’t known each other over twelve hours. It’s not like Cupid meant any of it, right?
Ugh. To hell with my subconscious’s thoughts for one night.
For once, I’m following my body’s needs and I’m going to screw this man’s brains out.
While my mouth moves in sync with Cupid’s, I shove his jeans and boxer briefs over his thick, muscled ass. He kicks them off the rest of the way, his lips never leaving mine. His dick is rock hard between us, pressing against my body and making my pussy weep with anticipation.
I may not have eyes on his junk, but I can feel it’s monstrous in girth and length. The man is seriously packing some heavy machinery, and I can’t wait to be stretched around him in all the best ways possible.
Cupid hikes my knees up, opening myself wide to him.
No, I don’t want it this way. I want to take control.
Using all my force, I buck him, rolling him onto his back and straddling his lap.
Shocked, Cupid blinks at me before grinning wickedly. “Well, hot damn! If you wanna ride my cock the first time, have at it, beautiful.”
There he goes with the suspicious language again. He says first time as if he expects many more to follow. Does he expect this to be more than a random hookup, or is he referring to us having sex more than once tonight?
Ignoring the warning signals again, I slide against his length, coating him in my wetness. With how ribbed he feels, him rubbing against me is enough to make me come.
Is he pierced? Is that what I feel between my legs with each pass between my folds?
Unable to help myself, I cock my hips forward and my head falls back on a moan.
Cupid grabs my hips, helping me slide against his long length. “You like my Jacob’s ladder, Psyche? It’s all for you now, only you get to enjoy it.”
Only me? Why does he talk like I’m the only one he’ll be fucking from here on out?
Frustrated and horny, I position him at my opening and slowly ease myself onto him. As much as I want to be filled instantly, he’s much too large for me to go buck wild right out the gate.
We groan in unison as he fills me, stretching me to accommodate him, and not stopping until I’m seated. He feels amazing, everything I could want and more in a sexual partner.
His dark eyes flutter. “Fuck, Butterfly. You’re undoing me.”
His compliment strokes my ego, making me feel like a goddess matching his god.
Carefully, I rotate my hips, testing the waters with slow and deliberate strokes along his length. A little moan of contentment escapes my lips each time he hits my pleasure points deep inside me.
“Christ, you feel amazing,” he grits between his teeth, gripping my hips to help glide me along on his dick faster. “Lose my shirt. I need to see your pretty tits.”
His words flatter me, and I pull his t-shirt over my head as I continue bouncing on his cock. Free of his shirt, I watch his eyes darken, taking me in like I’m the most breathtaking woman he’s laid eyes on. He snakes one hand upward, caressing around my left breast and squeezing.
I gasp from the extra stimulation, bucking my hips faster.
“Perfection,” he whispers musingly, as he watches my breasts and body move.
His eyes meet mine, catching me off guard with how they pierce through me. It’s like he sees all my flaws and still finds me gorgeous. As weird as it seems, I want to believe it—I want to believe I’m all he sees.
My heart clenches in my chest, sending pulses straight to my core like a live wire to my clit, shocking and flooding me with emotions that have no purpose floating around in me—feelings for a stranger who has shown me more care in a handful of hours than all the guys I’ve been with in all my years leading to this moment.
“You’re finally getting it, aren’t you?” he asks, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Getting what?” I ask, panting and unable to look away from the biker in my bed.
“That we’re more than a fleeting thing.”
I hear the words he’s saying, yet they make no sense. Weirder yet, they pull on that invisible thread to my sex, making my insides quiver with want.
“We’re strangers,” I whisper, rocking my hips faster.
With an all-knowing smirk, he says, “Strangers made for each other.”
What in the word porn is this sorcery? These false little declarations of love are causing havoc in my heart. Worse yet, they’re working magic on my body.
A swell of desire rises inside me. I plant my palms on his muscled chest, using it to leverage my weight and ride him for all I’m worth.
Sweat drips down my chest and back, cooling my heated skin and mixing with his on his torso to help me slide along his body. The veins in his neck stand at attention, like he’s fighting to keep himself from losing it too early.
We say nothing else, panting together as I chase my orgasm, bouncing on his dick while he pistons his hips upright into me from below. It’s messy and intense, but oh, so enjoyable.
The smell of our union grows, pluming the air around us in a heated musk and heightening our private moment into something far more intimate than I would have thought possible with someone I’m unfamiliar with.
Through it all, we never once look away from each other, as if the eye contact is keeping us tethered to the present. The only thing to remind us this isn’t a fever dream.
Silently and violently, my climax crashes through me, jolting my body forward on his cock. He catches me before I fall forward and dislodge him.
“Cupid…” I cry softly, my body shaking from the most intense release.
In one swift movement, Cupid shifts me underneath him. His lips capture mine as he continues to thrust into me, prolonging my orgasm. He finishes inside me with a loud moan, the kind of sound that makes a woman melt on the spot. It makes me clench around him, squeezing every drop from his cock.
Warmth fills me, pushing out between us onto my sheets, and I finally wake up from the fantasy.
I gulp. “Oh, my god.”
Cupid’s brows knit together. “What’s wrong, Butterfly?”
I look at him with horror. “We didn’t use a condom.”