Chapter 22 #2
She unhooks the bralette and tosses it aside. I take my time, kissing the slope of a big breast, the soft undercurve, the rise of her sternum. Her nipples are tight, flushed, and I roll one between my lips, gentle. She arches into it, sighing.
“Oh Liam,” she whispers rapturously. “That feels so good.”
She undresses me with her hands, stripping away layers, and soon we’re both naked on the couch, limbs tangled, skin hot and damp where we touch.
She’s already wet, slick between her thighs, and I can’t help but taste her, tongue darting up, lapping at the salt and heat.
She tangles her fingers in my hair and gasps, low and wild.
“Unnnh,” she moans. “So good.”
She pulls me up, kisses me hard, and there’s no question, no need for further negotiation. She wants me inside her.
I scoop her up—she’s lighter than she looks, all luscious curves and want—and carry her to the bedroom. She laughs, buries her face in my neck, then kisses my throat, biting just enough to hurt.
I set her on the bed, the navy sheets dark against her pale skin.
She sprawls, legs spread, shameless. I kneel between her knees, stroking her calves, her ankles, working my way up.
I press kisses along the inside of her thighs, mapping the scar on her left leg, then finally, the new one, low on her belly, barely healed.
I kiss it, too, and she makes a noise—surprised, grateful.
“I love that you did this,” I say, my voice thick.
She laughs, shaky. “It’s ugly.”
“It’s perfect,” I correct, and she pulls me up and bites my lip.
She guides my massive cock to her wet opening, holds it there, and looks me dead in the eye. “No condom,” she says, and it’s not a question.
“Are you sure?” I ask, because I have to.
She smiles, and I fall apart inside. “Positive. If I can get pregnant, I want it to be you.”
The words ignite something in me—primitive, volcanic. I push into her, slow at first, the heat of her wrapping around me, and for a second I have to stop, the sensation almost too much. She pulls me deeper, legs locked around my waist, urging me on.
“Oh, you’re so big,” she sighs, her face a bit strained from my size. “But it feels so fucking good!”
I grunt.
“You’re tight, baby. Your vag has always been tight, but is it possible that you got smaller?”
The gorgeous blonde lets out a small whine.
“I don’t think so,” she whispers. “But I love getting fucked by this big dick, Liam. Mmm, deeper. More!”
We find a rhythm, the slap of skin, the rush of breath, the bed creaking under us. I lean over her, braced on my elbows, watching her face as I move inside her. Her eyes flutter, her lips part, and she moans, quiet at first, then louder, not caring if the neighbors hear.
She digs her nails into my back, marking me, and I drive harder, losing myself in the sound of her, the smell of her jasmine hair, the sweat slicking our bodies. I want this to last forever, but she’s too tight, too hot, and I’m too far gone.
“Fuck baby,” I pant. “I don’t know if I can hold back—”
She comes first, bucking under me, gasping my name in a strangled, urgent syllable. The grip of her powerful vag pulls me over the edge, and I roar with climax, my vision going black at the sheer pleasure.
“Fuck!” I shout in the small room, my balls rising as my come shoot begins to pump. “Shit shit shit!”
Hot streams of semen empty into her, wave after wave, hips bucking uncontrollably. Her pussy milks me, pulling my come deeper into her fertile fields as she moans beneath me.
“Yes,” the gorgeous co-ed pants. “Breed me, Professor. I need it! Make me feel good!”
The words make me come again, another hot stream of semen pulsing into her fertile depths as I roar and buck, virile seed pumping into her swollen folds. I collapse onto her curves, crushing her with my weight, but Simone clings to me, arms wrapped tight, as if she can keep me from dissolving.
We lie there, panting, the world outside erased. She strokes my hair, murmurs nonsense, and I kiss her throat, her jaw, her mouth.
“You’re incredible,” I whisper against her lips. “So slutty and hot and with such a tight pussy.”
She giggles.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Professor.”
When I finally pull out, my cum leaks from her, painting her thighs, the sheets, a smear of white in the blue. She laughs, low and sated, and wipes it with her hand, before pushing it back into her pussy where it belongs.
“I love that I’m dripping with your semen,” she says, her eyes naughty. “But I want it to go where it belongs.”
A surge of possession rushes through my veins, making me dizzy for a moment. I rest my head on her stomach, cheek pressed to the scar. I listen to her breathing, to the wild, perfect machine of her body.
“I hope I got you pregnant,” I say, voice muffled by skin.
She giggles a little. “It’s too soon in my recovery. Besides, the doctor said that fertility’s not a hundred percent given. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“I know,” I whisper, but I mean it. I want to see Simone round with me, I want to leave something of myself behind, and for the first time, I think she wants that, too.
She plays with my hair, humming under her breath. “What if you did get me pregnant just now?” she asks, voice dreamy.
“Then I’d be the luckiest bastard on earth.”
She laughs, wraps her arms around me, and we drift into the hush of after, bodies tangled, sweat cooling, the sheets twisted beneath us.
I close my eyes, listen to her heart, and think: this is it. This is all I ever wanted.
No contracts, no control, just the wild, impossible risk of love.
We sleep, and in my dreams, she is already heavy with me.
We wake, and she is still here.
For the first time, I believe she always will be.