Chapter Eight. Asad #6
It’s either been a long time or whoever she called herself being with wasn’t hitting it right.
Gradually, her muscles loosen, and I push her legs wider apart.
I withdraw my finger, then dip back inside her, trailing a caress along the sensitive skin connecting her sex and ass.
She moans, going still again, and I shush her.
After some coaxing, I get inside her, and with a groan at the extra-small, extra-tight fit, I latch on to her clit, tonguing it, French-kissing it.
“Oh God, please,” she begs.
“That’s it,” I praise, continuing to thrust in and out of her, getting her good and wet and messy. “You tight as fuck, baby girl. Somebody ain’t been hitting it right. But that’s aight. I’m about to take care of that.”
Her thighs shake around my ears, and I hook my finger, rubbing the tip against that spot high within her. And she explodes, splinters.
Not giving her any time to recover, I grab at my pants, jerking and shoving until they pool at my feet.
Kicking them away, I move forward between her legs and cup them, hiking them high to ride my waist. My breath heaves in my chest, my heart a primal drum against my sternum as I notch my dick at her entrance.
“Asad, wait.” Ember splays her fingers wide against my bare chest, and I push them away, focused on burying myself inside this pussy, this woman who has tormented me for years.
But she cups my face, forcing my head up to meet her eyes.
“Asad, I need to tell you the truth. I…” She swallows, and both impatience and tenderness well within me.
“I haven’t done this before. I’m a virgin. ”
Shock pummels me with meaty fists, and I rock back, almost losing my grip on her. Shaking my head, I stare down at her, wanting to tell her to stop lying, but the truth shines in her eyes. The nerves, the traces of fear that can’t be hidden by the glaze of lust.
“The fuck, Ember,” I breathe. Shook.
“I know, I should’ve told you sooner—”
I smother her words with my mouth as a fierce, primitive joy surges in my chest, my soul.
I’ve called her mine, but gotdamn. She is.
All. Mine. No one has touched her, has been inside her.
As hypocritical and misogynistic as that sounds, I don’t give a fuck.
I’m happy. She only knows me. She only belongs to me.
“Let me in, Ember.” I slowly push forward, penetrating her.
Her tight flesh resists me, but I don’t stop.
Just the tip stretches her, and she whimpers, cries out, the clasp of her stealing my breath.
“I want in, baby. If it takes all night, you’re going to let me in this pussy.
It’s mine, and you’re going to give it to me. ”
I withdraw, then thrust. Withdraw, then thrust. With every slide forward, I claim more of her until I’m completely seated inside and she’s pried open, bare, full of me.
“I can’t,” she pleads, tipping her head back.
“You’re doing so good, Ember,” I praise, kissing her cheeks, her mouth, her chin. “You took all of me like I knew you could. Just like a good girl.” I stop, feeling her flesh flutter and quiver around my dick, attempting to let her acclimate to the power and size of me.
Soon, she starts shifting, moving underneath me, and I loose a low chuckle.
“That’s it, ma.” I reach between us, sweeping a caress over her clit. She cries out, flinches, but I keep up the featherlight caress. “That’s it, Ember. Get your dick, baby girl.”
Finally free to move, I withdraw until only the tip remains in a chokehold by that tight-ass pussy and then plunge back inside, pressing my balls to the bottom curves of her ass. She screams, the sound muffled against my shoulder, but still echoing in the room.
“Look at me.” I wait as she obeys me, tilting her head back, staring at me with lust-glazed eyes.
With a low growl, I wrap my fingers around her throat, squeezing hard enough for her eyes to widen then flare brighter.
Hotter. In reaction, my hand tightens, and her throaty moan is like the wettest, dirtiest hand job.
“You know you done fucked up, right?” With my grip still around her neck, I thrust harder, riding her deep, and she writhes, undulating into each drive of my dick.
“You let me in this pussy. She knows me. Knows who she belongs to. Sucking me deep like a hot mouth. Fucking gripping me tight.” Another hard, heavy stroke.
Another firm squeeze of her throat. “Mine, gotdamnit. Mine. Give my shit away, and a mu’fucka’s death gon’ be on you. ”
She whimpers, and I cover those luscious lips in a nasty kiss. For the next several minutes, whimpers, groans, and grunts punch the air along with slaps of sweat-drenched skin against skin. The suction of her flesh releasing and welcoming me inside her. It’s lewd, carnal, raw. Beautiful.
“Asad. Fuck, Asad,” she cries, and I go harder, a grimace twisting my face, passion and pain contorting hers. “I’m about to … I have to … Help me, please.”
Placing an open-mouthed, hot kiss along the side of her neck and the crook where neck and shoulder meet, I deliver a sharp, firm pat to her clit and another stroke.
Her legs quiver, her head flies back and the scream she releases will live in my memory until I draw my last breath. Her pussy clamps down on my dick, and I fall over the edge with her. Hammering at her, I empty everything I got inside her.
And one word fills my head as I shudder, losing every ounce of control and sanity.
Mine.