12. CJ #2
Marcy nods slowly, and I guide her down, one hand cradling the back of her head as she leans in. Her lips brush the tip, and I groan, barely holding back.
“Start slow, baby,” I whisper, voice trembling. “Just your lips. Kiss it.”
She does—pressing soft kisses along the head, her tongue flicking out to taste me. My hips jerk despite myself.
“Fuck… good girl,” I growl, hand tightening gently in her hair. “Now… open that pretty mouth.”
She looks up at me, then takes me in—slow, tentative, lips wrapping around the head, tongue swirling as I guide her.
“Just like that,” I groan, “Take what you can… fuck, that’s it.”
The sight of her—on her knees, mouth around my cock, looking up at me—is enough to make me lose my mind. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to stay still, to let her find her rhythm.
“Good… you’re doin’ so good,” I groan, barely holding on as she takes me deeper, her soft mouth working me slow and sweet.
I know I’m close to coming, and I plan on coming inside her. I slowly tug at her hair, urging her to stop.
Her lips slide off me with a soft pop, her cheeks flushed, eyes hazy as she looks up. I cup her jaw, breathing hard, fighting every instinct to pull her back down. But this is more than just needing her mouth.
I pull her up slowly, guiding her onto my lap, kissing her deeply, slowly savoring every second as our bare skin brushes together.
I shift us carefully, lowering her onto her back, my weight resting on my forearm so I don’t crush her. The sheets tangle beneath us, moonlight catching the curves of her body like she’s carved out of something made just for me.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and she nods. “You sure?” I murmur, breath ghosting over her lips.
“Yes,” she whispers.
My other hand strokes gently along her thigh, calming. I line myself up, dragging the thick head of my cock through her slick folds, teasing her clit just enough to make her gasp.
I ease forward slowly, groaning low at how tight she is—hot, wet, gripping me like a fist. And that’s when it hits me. The way she tenses, the sharp gasp she tries to swallow down, the way her nails bite into my shoulders like she’s bracing herself.
Fuck.
I freeze, my chest heaving as the realization slams into me. She’s a virgin.
My jaw tightens, guilt and something else—something possessive—punching through me all at once. “Marcy…” My voice is rough, strained. “You should’ve told me.”
She shakes her head quickly, breathing shakily. “I didn’t want you to stop.”
I curse softly, kissing her temple, brushing a hand down her side. “I would’ve been more careful.”
“You’re… fine,” she whispers, even though I can hear the tremble in her voice. She’s trying to be tough, but fuck—this is me, and I can feel every inch of her trembling.
I force myself to still, every muscle pulled tight with restraint. “It’s supposed to hurt, huh?” I murmur against her skin, trying to soothe her. “But I swear… I’m gonna make it good for you, baby. You trust me?”
She nods, eyes wide, lips parted. “Yeah… I trust you.”
I press the softest kiss to her lips, my hand stroking slow over her hip. “Good. Just breathe, alright? I’ll go slow.”
My control is razor-thin, but I stay slow, focused on her, watching for every flicker of discomfort. She winces, biting her lip hard, and I stop, breathing ragged.
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
“No… just go slow,” she whispers.
I press my forehead to hers, taking my time—inch by careful inch—until I’m fully seated inside her. Her nails dig into my shoulders, her breath shallow, but she doesn’t tell me to stop.
“You’re doing so good,” I murmur against her lips. “So fuckin’ good for me.”
She whimpers in response.
“You okay?” I rasp.
Marcy nods, her voice barely a whisper. “Yeah… move. I wanna feel you.”
I kiss her lips, then her jaw, dragging my tongue down her throat as I roll my hips slow—long, deep strokes that have her gasping under me. Her thick thighs wrap around my waist, pulling me in tighter, her hands clawing at my back.
I groan against her skin, feeling her cunt milk me. “Fuck… you feel so good, Marcy.”
I pick up the pace just a little, grinding into her until I hear the breathy sounds she makes—needy, desperate. I pull back enough to watch her face twist in pleasure, her lips parted, chest heaving.
And that’s when I see her—those heavy, full tits bouncing with every stroke, the sight damn near undoing me.
“Jesus, look at you,” I mutter, leaning down to take one perfect nipple into my mouth. I suck hard, rolling my tongue around it, dragging my teeth gently until she cries out, arching into me.
I switch to the other, sucking it just as rough, cupping the weight of her breast in my hand—so fucking big, spilling over my palm. They bounce every time my hips thrust forward, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
“CJ… oh, God…” she whimpers, hands tangled in my hair as I worship her, tasting every inch of her skin.
I pull back, panting hard. “Turn over for me,” I growl.
She blinks up, dazed, but nods and shifts onto her stomach. I help her onto all fours, her ass high, thick, and perfect. My hands grip her hips, and I can’t hold back anymore.
I slide back in deep, groaning loud as her walls clench tight around me. This time, I fuck her—slow at first, then harder, faster. The sound of our skin slapping fills the room, the headboard rattling against the wall.
“That’s it, baby,” I growl, gripping her waist and pulling her back onto me. “Take me.”
Her moans get louder, breath breaking as I pound into her from behind, her thick ass bouncing against my hips, making me fucking wild.
I reach around, one hand sliding to her breast, squeezing hard, fingers tugging at her nipple while I thrust deeper, harder. “You feel that?” I grit out. “How full you are? That’s all me, baby.”
She nods frantically, voice wrecked. “Yes… fuck, CJ… don’t stop.”
I groan, slamming into her harder, chasing that release, her body taking every inch like she was made for this.
But I’m not done.
I pull out, flipping her onto her back again. She gasps, wide-eyed as I slide back in, kissing her hard, swallowing her cries as I fuck her deep. Slow at first, then rough, setting a punishing pace.
Her tits bounce wildly beneath me, and I growl against her mouth, sucking on one nipple while pounding into her.
“Gonna make you come again,” I snarl, hips slamming forward. “Gonna fill you up, Marcy.”
Her nails dig into my back, and her body trembles. She’s right there, right on the edge.
I keep thrusting, hips driving deep, dragging my mouth back to her breast, sucking hard until she cries out, her back arching off the bed.
“Chase… fuck…” she gasps, her voice breaking. “I’m gonna?—”
“Come for me, baby,” I growl against her skin. “I wanna feel you.”
She shatters with a strangled moan, her body clenching around me so tight, I nearly lose it right there. Her nails rake down my back, legs wrapping around my waist, locking me in as she falls apart.
“Fuck, that’s it… good girl,” I groan, hips slamming harder now, chasing my own release as her walls pulse around me.
I grip her hips, burying myself deep. With a guttural growl, I thrust one last time and come hard, spilling deep inside her. My whole body tenses as wave after wave of release crashes through me, my cock pulsing thick inside her, filling her completely.
“Jesus… Marcy,” I pant, forehead dropping to hers, our bodies slick, tangled in the sheets, chest to chest.
She’s gasping beneath me, hands running slowly over my back like she can’t stop touching me.
I stay there for a minute, catching my breath, still buried deep inside her, feeling her heartbeat against mine.
The morning light filters in, golden streaks cutting through the curtains. The sheets beside me are cool. Empty.
I blink, disoriented for a second, until the night before hits me like a freight train—her soft moans, her hands on me, the way she gave me everything without hesitation.
Fuck.
I sit up, dragging a hand down my face, half-expecting it to be a dream. Last night was something…
Then I hear it—Sam’s laughter. He’s awake.
I roll out of bed, pull on a pair of sweats, and head toward the sound.
Marcy’s in the kitchen, barefoot, standing at the stove with her back to me. She’s wearing one of my old 12 Devils shirts—oversized, nearly swallowing her thick curves—but goddamn, she looks perfect in it. The hem barely covers the tops of her thighs.
Sam’s sitting at the table, completely oblivious, playing his Switch while mumbling about eggs and pancakes.
Marcy laughs softly, flipping a pancake like she’s done this a hundred times. Like she belongs here.
She looks up as if she can feel my eyes on her. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I say, still feeling a little disoriented.
Sam doesn’t even look up. “Dad, Marcy makes better pancakes than you.”
I huff out a short laugh and drop into the chair next to him, watching Marcy hum softly, completely at ease in my kitchen.
Last night wasn’t supposed to happen like that. I was angry. I wanted to put her in her place, remind her who the hell she was dealing with. I was supposed to fuck her like it meant nothing.
But I didn’t. I made love to her.
Is this possible? Had I changed my mind about her already?
No. Fuck, no. Hawk and Ryder might be losing their heads, thinking they can have her, keep her. But I’m not.
I can’t afford to.
I tear my gaze away from Marcy back to Sam. Back to solid ground.
Because whatever that was last night, it can’t mean more. I need to remember who the real enemy is. I can’t lose my past and everything I stand for.