30. Vanessa
CHAPTER THIRTY
VANESSA
Unable to contain my need for my nefarious biker, my lips slam against his, claiming my place in his life and in his world.
Our kisses are not gentle. We’re all tongues and teeth, biting at each other’s lips and sucking at the other’s mouth. My tongue licks over Cupid’s face, tasting my enemy’s blood left behind on my biker’s chiseled face and washing him clean of his sins.
“Mine,” I purr, rubbing against him like a cat in heat.
“Fuck, Vanessa.” Cupid groans, pulling his head back. He cradles my face, his hands shaking like he’s trying not to lose grip on his control. “If you keep at me like that, I’m going to bend you over the damn couch.”
An unhinged giggle escapes my lips, loving the idea of him taking me from behind in the most primitive of ways. I hastily undo his belt, eager to have him fill me. “Please, Cupid. I need you. I need you to lay claim to my body the way you did my heart.”
The tension in his face shifts to something darker, possessive, like the last of Cupid’s control has snapped. “Say it again.”
With pleasure, ole man.
I run my tongue over the seam of his lips, savoring the taste of him. “Claim me, Cupid. Make me yours in every way.”
In one swift motion, Cupid hoists me into his massive arms, pivoting us toward the couch. His hot mouth is at my throat, nipping at my sensitive flesh, marking me with his teeth and abrading my skin with his facial hair.
At the couch, he sets me back on my feet. He spins me around, pressing his palm into the center of my back to bend me over the back of the low-profile couch. I comply, desperate to be filled with his massive cock.
“I don’t think you have the slightest clue what seeing my name on you does to me.” His fingers trail over the property patch on the back of my vest, like a lord admiring his territory. “This stays on when I take you. Do you understand?”
The authority in his voice has my ovaries doing a samba dance. My lips curl into a wicked smile. “Yes, Cupid.”
My biker hums with approval, pleased I’m letting him use me how he wants without pushback.
He reaches around the front of my jeans, undoing them faster than a politician changes his mind. Yanking my pants and underwear down my legs, Cupid kneels behind me.
The slow drag of his tongue runs up the back of my thigh, eliciting a wanton moan from my lips. He bites me gentle at the sulcus under my left ass cheek, making me gasp with pleasure.
When his hot breath puffs against my wet pussy lips, I quiver with anticipation. “Fuck, yes. Please, eat me out.”
“Eat you out?” A dark snigger is all I hear as his hands glide up the front of my naked thighs. His fingers squeeze the tops of my legs, locking me in place. “No, Butterfly. I’m going to devour you.”
Oh, sweet Lord Almighty! I could come hearing those words dripping from his lips alone.
Using the broadside of his tongue, Cupid licks me slowly from clit to crack. I groan into the couch cushion, loving the way this man worships my body, needing more of it.
“Sopping wet for me,” he says against my sex, sending delicious vibrations along my tender flesh before he buries his tongue into my pussy, tasting me from the inside out.
“Yes,” I say in a gasp.
Cupid sucks on my folds, licking me right to the edge of a climax. His nose nudges against my puckered hole, teasing me to the point I throw my ass back in his face and rub against him.
He slaps my ass with a loud crack, nipping at my labia. I cry out, nearly releasing all over his face. Heat blooms across my bottom, and I want more of his naughty discipline. “Again, please!”
“Behave or I won’t let you come,” he orders in a low, controlled tone, letting me know he’s calling the shots. “This is my favorite meal, and I will not rush it.”
“Fuck.” I whimper against the couch, restraining myself from using his face like a grinding pad. “I want to come. Please let me come.”
Taking a long, languid swipe over my clit, Cupid says, “You’ll come when I tell you to come. Now, lie still and take the pleasure I’m giving you.”
Building me back up slowly, Cupid has me mewling, desperate for a release. I won’t last much longer if he keeps flicking my clit like he’s playing with a damn fidget spinner.
“Cupid,” I whine, clawing at the couch as if grabbing hold of something will prevent me from going over the edge.
“Oh, Butterfly,” he mumbles against my sex. “You’re right there, aren’t you?”
“Yes!”
“Show me you’re my dirty girl. Drench my beard.” And then he sucks my clit into his mouth—hard.
My body responds like a firecracker exploding. My insides pull upward before shuddering violently. I cry out as wetness spills out of me, running down my legs and probably soaking my relentless biker.
Cupid hums, greedily sucking at me like he can’t get enough of my cream. “Goddamn, I’m a lucky bastard. You’re a squirter, and it’s all for me.”
Heat spreads across my cheekbones. I’ve never squirted before. Hell, I didn’t even know I could. My embarrassment quickly fades with how ravenous Cupid is, lapping at my still pulsing sex and the sloppy sounds he makes slurping down my wetness.
When Cupid is done abusing my pussy with his mouth, he rises to his feet behind me. “I’m not done with you yet.”
He kicks my feet out wider with his biker boots, opening my sex to him. The cool metal of his undone belt buckle presses against my ass, making me shudder with excitement. The hiss of his zipper echoes around the room, mixing with my labored breathing.
Cupid stands still behind me, going silent.
What’s going on? Why has he stopped? Is something wrong?
The long pause has me peeking over my shoulder at him, curious what the holdup is.
My biker is staring fondly at my wet pussy like it’s the most amazing thing in the world, running his hands over my ass and spreading my cheeks to get a better look.
Nobody has looked at me down there the way he’s doing, at least not to this degree. Most guys are all about getting off as quickly as possible. However, Cupid seems mesmerized and unwilling to breeze past exploring me.
“What are you doing?”
His eyes slowly meet mine, a proud smirk on his normally stoic face. “Admiring my pretty cunt.”
Holy hell! That’s hot.
I always consider the word cunt to be distasteful. Yet, the way Cupid uses it in reverence makes it my new favorite word.
Grinning, Cupid holds my stare as he palms my sex. The heat of his touch warms my already hot, tender flesh, igniting my nerve endings anew.
Without warning, Cupid slaps my sex. It’s not painful, but enough to get the reaction he wants out of me. My insides clench, and I let out a tortured moan, coating his hand with my earlier release.
“Whose cunt is this?”
“Your cunt,” I whisper obediently, my face going hot.
“That’s right,” he says, sounding smug. “Does my cunt want her cock?”
Oh, my word! Dirty has never sounded as hot as it does coming from Cupid’s lips.
“Yes,” I plead, rubbing myself against his hand to ease the ache building between my legs. “Give it to me.”
“You beg so prettily,” he coos, pulling himself out of his jeans. It stands at attention, thick and dripping with pre-come from the tip.
Suddenly thirsty for him, I lick my parched lips.
Tracking the movement with his eyes, Cupid chuckles darkly. He takes his huge, fully erect dick in his hands, slapping it against my sex. “I’ll feed it to you later. First, I need to fill this greedy snatch.”
There’s no warning before he’s thrusting into me, spearing me to the hilt. My mouth falls open in a silent cry of pleasure.
Cupid sets a relentless pace, grabbing my hips and pounding into me with vigor hard enough to rock me to my core.
We’ve had sex before, but this is nothing like our first time. This is fucking—hard, brutal, and all-consuming. Cupid ruts into me like an unbridled beast, rubbing firmly against my interior walls and hitting pleasure spots I never knew I had.
He’s doing exactly what I asked—claiming me. Stamping himself into me so deep, no one will fill the indent he leaves behind other than himself.
Thrust after rigid thrust has me squealing and my insides tightening, alerting me I’m about to detonate.
Cupid’s heavy balls swing forward, nailing my clit in a steady tempo and making my toes curl.
And in this position, that beautiful Jacob’s ladder of his is hitting all the delicate front creases inside of me where my nerve endings are the most receptive.
“You’re mine,” Cupid grits through his teeth, punching his dick into me. “Your cunt. Your heart. Mine, Vanessa.”
“Yours. Yours. Yours,” I chant, my eyes rolling back into my head as I reach the horizon.
“Prove it,” he growls, grinding into me. “Come on my cock.”
His filthy words send me into orbit. My orgasm slams into me, making my vision go white momentarily. I cry out his name, pulsing around his firm length.
In the middle of my climax, Cupid yanks me upright by the back of my leather cut. His muscled arms come down around my midsection and chest like steel bars, holding me upright in his crushing embrace as he continues to relentlessly pump into me.
Perched on his stone-hard cock, Cupid increases his punishing pace, grunting like a man turned feral with desire. His hips brutally buck against my ass hard enough to leave a bruise, and all I can do is get lost in the feeling, wanting more.
Desperate to see him go over the edge, I turn my head towards his, looking at him like he’s the answer I’ve been seeking all my life. My arm snakes around the back of his neck, embracing him the only way I can in this position.
Cupid gazes back at me with untamed need, like he’s ready to nut me down until I’m knocked up.
His mouth is slightly parted, panting hard with each thrust. Sweat drips down his face, rolling south along his neck from exertion.
His hand around my midsection slips between my legs, tapping my clit each time he plows into me.
It seems impossible to come a third time after two powerful orgasms. But goddamn. The way he’s touching me and hitting me deep inside, there’s no way I won’t come again, and my release is coming fast.
With my insides quivering with my imminent climax, I give Cupid one warning. “I’m close.”
Baring his teeth, Cupid’s hips pivot forward, hammering into me like he’s on the last stretch of a race and ready to join me at the finish line. “Milk. Me.”
My pussy clamps around him, spasming with my release. Swept away in the exquisite sensation, my eyes shutter close.
Behind me, Cupid roars, unloading ropes of his hot come deep inside me. The wet sounds of our fornication are drowned out by our heavy pants and guttural moans.
Exhausted, we fall forward as a unit over the back of the couch, neither of us strong enough to stand on our feet after exerting ourselves to the max. We gasp, trying to catch our breath, with me panting against the couch cushion and him against my back.
When he finally pulls out of me, the slow drag of his cock exiting has me groaning from the ache its absence leaves in its wake and the flood of his release running down my tired thighs. “Come back.”
He laughs, still panting hard. “Don’t worry, Butterfly. We have all day to enjoy each other.”
“Not all day. The rest of our lives,” I correct him confidently, pushing off the couch to face him with a radiant smile plastered on my face. He’s mine now, for better or worse. “Til death do us part.”
My biker cups my face in his gigantic hands. “Oh, Butterfly. Not even death will separate us. I’ll crawl out of my grave and haunt you until you join me.”
My smile falters. “You promise me, Cupid? You promise you’ll never leave or stray?”
“I promise,” he vows, his tone fierce, leaving no room for uncertainty. “I’m yours. You own my dark heart.”
“And I’m yours, Cupid. Unconditionally.”
His lips press against mine, molding around me and sealing our vows in a searing kiss.