Chapter 24 #2
She huffs when she can’t get deeper, so maybe she does want more.
Holding onto her ass, I kick open the door and awkwardly step out. I leave her impaled on my cock as I walk to the front of the buggy.
Placing her on the hood, I lean her back and spread her legs. I look down where we are joined, the head of my cock is still in her tight pussy.
“Fuck me, Cowboy.”
“Ask nicely.” I tease.
“Please, Rhys, won’t you fuck me?”
Fuck she’s gotten brave with telling me what she wants.
One of my hands is by her head while the other holds onto the hip. Remembering the way her cunt choked my cock when I spat on her clit, a wicked smirk dances over my lips. I gather the salvia and spit onto her pussy. She closes her eyes and groans .
I take this moment to bury myself deep inside her with one solid thrust.
She screams out as her walls stretch to accommodate me. They pulse and quiver around my length.
I hate the way her underwear sits on her while I try to fuck her. So, while still buried in her, I rip them off.
“You have to stop ripping my underwear.”
I don’t reply, because I don’t. I should stop, but I won’t. Maybe she should just never wear underwear. Maybe I will suggest that, but not now. I start to seesaw my hips back and forth, allowing my cock and my piercing to rub along her nerves.
Her hands clasp onto my forearms, nails biting into my skin. She’s holding on while moaning my name. “Rhys, please. More.”
I lean over her body, and fuck her into the hood of the buggy. I claim her lips in a kiss. Not claiming, not possessive, just what it is, a kiss.
She breaks the kiss, panting. “Yes, fuck yes.”
I continue to thrust, as her orgasm nears.
“Come Princess, let the world hear how pretty you sound when you come apart.”
And she does. The walls of her cunt squeeze my cock; her body stills and her muscles contract. I place my thumb over her clit and circle and she cries out, coming like the good girl she is.
I work her through it in slow measured thrusts. And she is sated relaxing into the car. I again pick up the pace, using her body for my pleasure.
Once my balls start to draw up with my impending release, I withdraw from her clinging body, and fist my cock, I look down watching my hand move up and down. Then Morgan is in my line of sight.
On her knees, in front of me.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“I want to taste you.” She looks at me. “Sir.”
The combination of her on her knees, her use of Sir, and the way she’s looking up at me with her mouth open and tongue out. I can’t hold it back anymore.
I rest the head of my cock on her tongue, just as warm ropes of cum spurt out into her mouth. I’m panting, and when she closes and swallows everything I just gave her, I think I could come again.
Helping Morgan up, she dusts the dirt off her knees while I fish her shorts and my shirt out of the buggy. She has to go commando, which I am not in the slightest bit sorry about.
Once we’re both looking not freshly fucked, I tell her to follow me. We’re on a cliff, with an immediate drop, which I tell her. But what does she do? Walks right to the edge and looks over.
“Yeah, that’s a bit of a drop.”
“Almost as if that’s what I said.” There are rocks at the bottom with waves crashing over them. I walk over to her and sit, letting my feet hang over the edge.
“Aren’t you worried you’ll fall?”
“Asks the person who was just leaning over it.” I pat the ground, and she sits next to me.
We don’t say anything, just take in the warm breeze that smells of the ocean. I point out where the ground turns from white sand to red dirt.
“So, why a cowboy?” She eventually asks.
“Because Shane literally fucked my chance to work for Damon.” She scrunches up her face. “No seriously, I don’t know. I sold Nanna and Granddad’s place, and kind of just travelled around. Then I ended up here. Shelly saw how lost I was, and strong-armed Brent into giving me a job.”
“How did she die?”
“Not my story to share Princess.” I’m not even one hundred percent sure.
Brent was broken for months, and honestly, I don’t think he has ever recovered.
Molly cried every night for her Mummy, for, god I don’t remember how long, but I know it broke all our hearts.
Her death impacted each and every one of us.
“Why stay with your ex so long?”
She freezes up, and I’m about to take the question back, but she answers, “I tried to leave once, but he caught me. I had to call in sick for a week from work. He did a good job at making me feel worthless, unlovable. Like I deserved to be hit.”
“No one ever deserves that.”
“I know that, well, now I do. But when you’re in it, being manipulated and gaslit so much, you can’t seem to see a way out.”
I nod, not sure how else to respond, and not trusting how I’d sound if I tried to respond. I don’t ask any more, and she doesn’t share any more.
Eventually, she rests her head on my shoulder. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Not pitying me. For not treating me any different.”
Again, she has left me wondering how to respond. I do what feels natural, which is to kiss the top of her head. I hope the words I can’t find can be felt in the small gesture.
We sit in comfortable silence watching the sun lower in the sky, I tell her it’s probably time to go and help her up. I will never get used to how her small hand slips effortlessly into my much larger one or the feelings that it stirs. I watch as she smiles at me, an action I return.
I reassure myself that this ‘friends with benefits’ thing will be fine, keep feelings out of it and it will end when she leaves.
But… I don’t think I want her to leave.