Chapter 9 - Amanda
This isn't over? Fucking hell.
I'm exhausted. My arms are trembling from supporting myself during the last position, my pussy is sensitive and swollen from being stretched around his thick cock, and I can feel his cum leaking out of me. But my legs, my legs are good.
I didn't spend years training to be a cop, running drills and conditioning my body, to get fucked once and not be able to ride. My legs are strong. I can do this.
I straddle him, positioning myself over his still-hard cock. It's intimidating how ready he is, how much stamina he has. But I'm not backing down. Not when he's looking at me like I'm the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
I have no experience with this. No idea what I'm doing. But I sink down onto his cock anyway, taking him deep, and oh god, it feels so fucking good from this angle. I can control the depth, the speed, the rhythm.
I start bouncing, my hands braced on his chest. My hair falls forward, blocking my view, and I grab it, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail with one hand. I want to see him. Want to see this man's face as I ride him.
And he looks gorgeous.
Jawline sharp and defined, lips still wet with my juices from earlier, blue eyes wide open and locked on me. Watching me. Devouring me with his gaze. His eyes travel from my face down to my breasts, watching them bounce with each movement.
He doesn't care about my extra weight. Doesn't see the softness as a flaw. He wants me, wants every curve, every pound, every inch I've spent years being insecure about.
I've never felt this adored. This desired. This fucking sexy. It makes me want to ride him harder. Faster. Until he can't hold back anymore.
I pick up the pace, my thighs burning with the effort but feeling so good. Each bounce drives his cock deeper, hits spots inside me that make me gasp.
"You enjoying this?" I ask breathlessly, needing to hear his voice.
"Fuck yes." His hands grip my hips, helping guide my movements. "You were born for this. Born to ride my cock."
I love hearing that. Love knowing I'm making him feel good despite my inexperience. I move even faster, chasing the pleasure building inside me again.
"Fuck!" Danny's head tilts back, his jaw clenching. "I love how you're never satisfied. How you just keep wanting more."
"If you can't satisfy me," I taunt, surprising myself with my boldness, "you can just say so."
His eyes snap back to mine, dark and dangerous. A smirk curves his lips. "If you can still reply with sass, I must not be doing my job well enough."
Before I can respond, he sits up and flips us over. I find myself on my hands and knees, ass in the air, and my pussy clenches with anticipation.
"Get on all fours," he orders, even though I'm already in position. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't form words."
I've always wanted to be fucked doggy style. Always. It's the position that features in every fantasy I've ever had while touching myself late at night. I just never thought my first time would be with a biker I met not even forty-eight hours ago.
But it feels fucking right.
I don't know why he hates cops so much. I don’t know what happened to make that hatred run so deep. But I need to find out. I want to find out. Because I don't want this to end. Don't want this to be just a one-time thing, a hate-fuck that we both walk away from.
I want to stay close to him. Want to keep him right next to me. And for that to happen, we need to figure out our issues with each other.
But not now. Not when he's grabbing a handful of my hair, pulling it back until my head tilts up and my back arches. Not when his cock is pressing against my entrance, thick and hard and demanding.
"Ready?" he asks, his voice rough.
"Yes."
He slams into me, and I scream. The angle is different: deeper, more intense. His cock hits spots inside me that make my toes curl and my vision blur.
He starts fucking me hard. Relentless. Each thrust drives me forward, and I have to brace myself against the headboard to keep from collapsing. It doesn't matter if it's passion or fury or hate driving him, I'm loving every second of it.
Taking it. Begging for more with my moans and gasps.
I can feel each time his hips pound against my ass. Feel his cock going deeper into my pussy. Feel the pull on my scalp where he's gripping my hair. It's overwhelming. Pleasure and pain mixing together until I can't tell where one ends and the other begins.
I'm going to be so fucking sore after this. I won’t be able to walk properly tomorrow. But I don't care. I want more and more, and he's giving it to me.
His hand releases my hair, and I hear the sharp crack before I feel the sting. He slapped my ass. Hard. The pain radiates through my skin, followed immediately by pleasure.
"Fuck!" I gasp.
"You like that?" Another slap, harder than the first.
"Yes!" I push back against him, meeting his thrusts. "Again."
He obliges, his hand coming down on my other cheek. The sting is perfect. At this point, I'm sure he could do anything to me and I'd love it. Spank me. Pull my hair. Pin me down. Whatever he wants, I'll take it.
"Danny," I moan, feeling the familiar pressure building. "I'm going to—"
"Come for me." His hand slides around to rub my clit. "Come on my cock like a good girl."
The combination of his cock pounding into me, his fingers on my clit, and his rough voice is too much. My orgasm hits like a freight train, tearing through my body with violent intensity. I scream his name, my pussy clenching around his cock, milking him.
"Fuck, Amanda!" He slams into me one final time, burying himself as deep as possible. I feel his cock pulse inside me, feel the warmth of his cum filling me again.
So much cum. I'm so fucking full of it. Full of him. Claimed by him.
I belong to him now. His seed marked me, more than once. Staked his claim in the most primal way possible.
When he finally pulls out, I feel it immediately. His cum dripping out of my pussy, thick and warm, running down my thighs. I should go to the bathroom. I should clean up. But I can't move.
I collapse onto the bed face-first, gasping for air. Every muscle in my body is trembling. My pussy is swollen and sensitive, my ass stings from his slaps, and I've never felt more satisfied in my life.
Danny rolls beside me, his chest heaving. "You want more?"
I turn my head to look at him, a breathless laugh escaping. "I'd love it, but I really need to rest. This was already way beyond what I expected."
"But you loved it." It's not a question.
"I fucking loved it," I admit.
He reaches out, brushing hair from my face. The gesture is surprisingly tender after the rough fucking he just gave me. "Good. Because that was just the beginning."
My pussy clenches at his words, even though I'm exhausted. "The beginning?"
"You think I'm done with you after one afternoon?" His fingers trail down my spine. "Baby, I'm just getting started."
"Danny—"
"Rest." He pulls me against his chest, and I go willingly, too tired to resist. "Then we'll order food. Talk. Figure out what the fuck this is between us."
I press my face against his skin, breathing in his leather and motor oil odor. "What if we can't figure it out?"
"Then we'll figure it out while I'm balls deep inside you." His hand smooths over my hip. "Because I'm not letting you go, officer. Not now that I know what you taste like. What you feel like. How perfectly that pussy fits around my cock."
Heat floods through me despite my exhaustion. "I'm a cop."
"I know." His voice is quiet. "And I still hate cops. But you?" His lips brush my forehead. "You, I might be able to make an exception for."
It's not a declaration of love. Not even close. But it's something. A crack in his armor. A possibility that maybe we can make this work.
"I need to know why you hate them so much," I say. "Why you hate the badge."
"Later." His arms tighten around me. "Right now, just rest. Let me hold you."
I close my eyes, feeling his heartbeat against my cheek. My body is sore, full of his cum, marked by his hands. And I've never felt safer.
This is insane. I lost my virginity to a criminal. Let him fuck me raw and fill me with his seed. Fell into bed with someone who represents everything I should stay away from.
But I don't regret it. Not one second.
Whatever this is between us—hate, lust, something more—I want to explore it. I want to understand him. I want to find a way to bridge the gap between his world and mine.
Even if it destroys me in the process.