5 #2
Nikki isn't reckless. Nikki is deliberate.
Every choice she's made tonight, from showing up early to propositioning me to sending those photos to Ben, is a move in something longer than a one-night decision.
She wants a baby, and she wants the leverage that comes with ambiguity, and she wants to be the only person in the room who knows the full picture.
I should be alarmed. I'm not. I'm inside her and she's clenching around me and her ass is pressed against my hips, flushed and marked with my handprints, and the sound of us fucking fills every corner of the apartment.
The air is thick with the smell of sex — not the suggestion of it, the full, dense, unmistakable reality, sweat and cum and her arousal and mine, a humidity that clings to the skin and coats the inside of my mouth every time I breathe.
Alarm is a luxury I can't afford with my cock this deep in someone this wet.
"You're insane," I tell her again, and I punctuate it with another slap across her ass that makes her yelp and clench and shove back against me in retaliation.
"You keep saying that while you're balls deep in me."
She arches her back and the angle tightens, her pussy gripping me with a force that feels possessive and deliberate, her body making a physical argument her mouth has already won.
"So I really don't think it's the insult you think it is. Now shut up and breed me. Put another load in me. I want to feel it mixing with the first one."
I stop talking. My hands tighten on her hips, my thumbs pressing into the dimples at the base of her spine, and I fuck her with a rhythm that's no longer about pace or technique or anything resembling control.
My body takes over — every thrust driven by something older than thought, the hard biological imperative to go deeper, push harder, finish.
The sensation is overwhelming, the sensitivity from round one layering on top of round two's intensity until every nerve in my cock feels raw and overloaded, each stroke a collision of pleasure and something close to pain that feeds itself, each cycle sharper than the last.
Nikki takes it. She takes all of it, every stroke, her body absorbing the impact and demanding more.
I grab her hair again and pull her upright, her back arching against my chest, and the new angle sends me into her at a depth that makes her voice stop working entirely — her mouth open, no sound, her eyes wide, her whole body trembling against mine.
I can feel her heartbeat against my chest, rapid and frantic, and the heat of her back against my skin, and the smell of her hair when I bury my face in it — sweat and coconut and sex.
"Feel that?" I growl against her ear, and she whimpers. "Feel me in your guts? You're going to take every drop I have and you're going to thank me for it."
"Yes — yes, fuck — I'll take it, I'll take all of it —" Her voice is ruined, barely a whisper, her body shaking uncontrollably against mine.
She reaches back and grabs the back of my neck, pulling my mouth against her throat, and I bite her again, tasting her pulse against my tongue, feeling it hammer desperate and rapid against my teeth.
I push her back down, bending her over the couch, and her ass pushes back into me, presenting itself, the flesh marked and red and impossibly inviting.
I spank her one last time, hard, the crack splitting through the wet sounds of sex, and the handprint that surfaces is the darkest one yet, vivid crimson against her pale skin.
She screams into the cushion and her pussy strangles my cock in a contraction so tight I see stars.
Her voice drops to a continuous thread of profanity and demand that fills the room like smoke.
"Give me your cum — give it to me — I need it inside me, I need it deep — fuck, fill me up, fill this pussy — breed me, breed this fucking hole — make me take it, make me your cum dump — I want to walk out of here dripping with two loads in me —"
Her hand slides between her legs and I feel her fingers brush the base of my shaft as she rubs her clit, fast and frantic.
The added stimulation makes her pussy flutter around me in rapid clenching contractions that tighten and release against the shaft in a rhythm that has nothing to do with mine, her body chasing its own finish while I chase mine.
She's getting herself off while I fuck her, and the dual stimulation — her fingers working her clit, my cock filling her, the combined mess of round one making everything slicker and louder — pushes her toward the edge at a speed that makes her voice climb into registers I didn't know she had.
"I'm gonna come — oh fuck, I'm gonna come on your cock — don't stop, don't you fucking dare stop — I'm right there, I'm right fucking there —"
She comes hard — harder than round one, a full-body seizure that locks every muscle from her thighs to her jaw and turns her rigid beneath me.
Her pussy clamps down on me in contractions so violent they border on painful, a rhythmic strangling grip that pulls me past the edge I've been fighting to stay on.
The sensation is too much — her body milking me while it destroys itself, every contraction squeezing my oversensitive cock with a force that obliterates the line between pleasure and something that feels like being taken apart.
The orgasm hits me with a force that blacks the edges of my vision.
I bury myself to the hilt and my hips lock against her marked, reddened ass, and I come in deep, shuddering pulses that empty me completely, each surge pushing through the tightness of her contracting pussy.
I feel it filling her, the warm flood building inside her body, mixing with what's already there from round one, and the combined fullness makes the sensation thicker, heavier, every pulse pushing against the pressure already inside her.