Chapter 20 #2
I lost the thought of chewing him out when his mouth took hold of my nipple. I bucked against him as he sucked and teased. His mouth was magical, giving attention but enough to leave you wanting more. He released my nipple with a pop.
His soft moans stirred more restlessness. I wanted to make him feel good just as he was making me feel good. He moved over to the one but never neglecting the one he just feasted on. I could come just from him playing with my breasts. I fought to hold on.
Soft noises couldn’t help but release. They only encouraged Shooter to keep going, to make me into a melted puddle.
The slight memories of Chris' breath on me crept in, making me shudder.
A single tear leaked onto my check. Shooter pulled away, catching the tear with his finger. He kissed the tear trail.
“He’ll never hurt you again. You. Are. Mine.” His possessive growl seared his words into mind.
I pulled him in, searing another kiss. The kiss was even hungrier than the last. At that moment, I didn’t want softness, I wanted all consuming, mindless, and passion.
My nails dug into his back, he hissed out in pain.
His thick, hard cock pressed into me. All my excuses went out the window the moment he kissed me back.
Shooter ravenously trailed down my body, kissing and licking the curves.
He reached my pelvis, pausing at the birth control patch.
I sucked in my bottom, suppressing a chuckle.
I could feel the wheels turning in his head.
I liked the patch. It was simple and I knew that it would work especially with my mind and forgetting daily pills.
He poked it, his lips pursed. I leaned up on my elbows, nudging him with my knee. “It’s a birth control patch and freshly put on. And I’m clean, just so you know,” I said, but muttered the other part, “Not like I needed to since there hasn’t been a dick up there in a long time.”
His fingers grazed over it like he was playing with an intrusive thought.
I nudged him again, “Don’t think about it, buddy, as much as I want to be a mommy one day, that day is not today.
Now are you going to fuck me senseless or…
” I didn’t finish the statement before he stuffed some of the bra fabric in my mouth.
“Look who’s being a brat now?” he joked, before slipping a hand down my pajama shorts, brushing over the thin fabric of my panties.
My grumbles turned into lustful moans. “Hmm. That’s what I thought.
I love how you listen.” I glared at him, but his free hand slapped my breast. A whimper was muffled.
I shouldn’t have liked it, but my body begged for more. He watched me, studying me like his favorite subject. His fingers were still skating over the fabric, possibly feeling the dripping wetness seeping through.
“Just because this little scrap of fabric is doing its job hiding your pussy, it won't stop me from breeding this tight pussy,” he said sinisterly.
My eyes fluttered closed from the combination of his words and his fingers playing with me through the fabric.
He dipped his head back down my body, keeping my legs open for his pleasure and mine.
“You like that don’t you?” he asked. I tried to shake my head, holding the truth, but with another slap to my breast, I quickly nodded.
“My dirty girl,” he teased.
He shimmied off my shorts. “I wonder what else you’re hiding that you like?” He continued to pepper kisses along the curves of my thighs, barely grazing the sensitive spot that grew needier and needier. I groaned in agony, I couldn’t take the teasing anymore, like a freight train that had no end.
I pressed up my hips, hinting at exactly where I needed the release, the attention. My words only came from grumbles with the fabric still in my mouth.
“I know what you need, you don’t think I haven’t thought about this every day?” He inched closer to my throbbing heat. “You don’t think that every day I wanted to taste you, consume you like you were made to be mine?”
His hot breath hovered over my pussy, teasing me to the point of breaking. But that’s what he wanted, he wanted me to be close to breaking only to put me back together again.
As if he read my mind, Shooter’s mouth landed straight to my clit.
While most men struggle the first time finding it, he had no issues.
Shooter buried himself in my pussy, wrapping his arms around my thighs, pinning me to the bed.
My hands shot straight for his hair, weaving my fingers through his thick hair.
His chuckle vibrated against me, sending a shot of pleasure through my core.
“That’s it, show me, tell me.” His tongue slipped through my entrance. I squealed at the sensation, knowing that he was the first man to do that, and knowing Shooter’s possessiveness, he’d make sure he was the last one. I ground my hips around, my mind blank and my body in control.
“Fuck my face, peaches, use me,” Shooter demanded, as his fingers clenched deeper into my skin.
I followed his demand like a good girl and chased my own pleasure.
I could feel it building like a volcano ready to erupt.
Better than my own vibrator, better than anyone had ever given me. The chance to feel human and be wanted.
The pressure kept building and soon my body exploded, my core vibrating, and a single tear dropped down my face.
I wasn’t sad, but I think my body felt overwhelmed.
Shooter lifted his head, his face shined in my wetness and release, his eyes narrowed in on the single tear, crawled up my body and licked the tear off.
He took the fabric out of my mouth and stared at me as my body still tingled from his tongue. “My beautiful woman.”
I wanted to argue that I wasn’t really his, but the more I said it, the more it felt like a lie. My hand caressed his cheek, staring into his dark brown almost whiskey colored eyes. “Then fuck me like I’m yours.”
His eyes darkened even more, taking it as a challenge.
He backed down my body, standing at the edge of the bed, and in one swoop stood there naked in the morning light.
He looked even more like a god standing there, and the light hitting all the edges of his muscles.
He was already a tall man compared to my 5 '5 height, with his almost foot higher.
But while his handsome features distracted, it only took a few more seconds to look down at his body to see what I knew would ultimately destroy me.
He’s going to break my fucking vagina, and I would ask him for more.
“Holy hell, how do you keep that hidden? All this time, you had that monstrosity under your clothes?” I sputter out, not really forming words.
Part of me should have backed up and said he wasn’t coming near me with that cock, but the other half was a little slut begging for it while saying “I’ll do whatever you ask. ”
Shooter chuckled. “I’m like a little gift.”
I shouted, “There’s nothing little about it.”
Shooter slowly started to stroke his hardened cock, with little beds of precum spouting out. “You’ll take all of me. Don’t worry.”
I worried about my sanity, that I would possibly become addicted to his cock.
I started to sit up, wanting to reach for it, my own naughty desire to have my own taste.
But as soon as I got up to my knees, he spun me around, and bent me over with my ass presenting to him.
My head twisted to the side, watching his hands glide down my spine, and the edge of my ass.
But his finger tapped on the side, and even more heat flushed my cheeks.
“You do have a little tattoo back here, you cheeky fuck.” Memories flashed to the bet I had with him about seeing the tattoo on my ass.
It was a pair of lips kissing my cheek. It was a stupid college rebel tattoo.
And before I could explain, Shooter’s lips pressed against it.
Why did he have to be so damn cute? He was giving me whiplash from the sweet and cute moments to the dark and possessive moments.
“If I kiss it, that means I keep it right?” he asked. Before I could argue, the tip of his cock brushed against my entrance. His hands forced my legs to spread further apart.
“Tell me this is what you want,” he said.
“Shooter, when I said fuck me like I’m yours, it wasn’t a suggestion,” I said, backing myself up to him. Then in one slow thrust, all the smart remarks disappeared, and in place was a soft moan.
“There’s no fucking question, Amelia. You are mine,” he said with sin in his voice.
I felt full but I needed fucking movement or something. I asked to be distracted, and I was more focused on wanting him to fuck me senseless, and not getting it. I groaned, mad that he wasn’t moving. I needed him to unlock everything in me.
Shooter slowly dragged out of my pussy and quickly thrust back in. As he thrusted back in, a hand came down on my ass cheek. Shooter was taking his time, studying me, watching me, looking out for signs of pleasure and signs of agony.
He drove into me, slowly at first, until I was almost putty in his hands and then into a brutal pace that I craved.
Fucking me like it was the last time we would do it, but we both knew that would be a lie.
His sounds only made me want to come harder.
I could feel it rising again, it’s delicious, it’s addicting.
But he was a good student, he knew when to stop and pull out, leaving me empty and whining like a baby. His rough hands flipped me to my back, where I had no choice but to stare at him full on. The sweat dripping down our bodies glistened.
“Made for me,” he said, his low morning voice still rumbling.
“Please, Shooter,” I whimpered.
He shook his head. “For weeks, I have been hearing you call my name, that little audio of you, every night I heard it on repeat as my cock was in my hand. Now I have you right where I want. Say that name.”
River.
Maybe my little tease paid off. In one swoop, his cock filled the once emptied space.
My back arched up, my head thrown back, eyes were fluttering closed.
I was lost once again in the enigma and power of Shooter.
The dark knight that hid in the shadows, the one who wanted to consume me.
Was I ready for something more? Even after all these years.
He drove into me as he played with my clit, knowing that I was ready to explode. He dropped to his elbows, his weight heavy on me. “Never letting you go.”
I silently asked him not to.
I was in for the long haul.
I had given him my time, my mind, my body, and eventually my heart.
He was getting close as his thrusts became harder, hitting every nerve in my pussy. I cried out, my body giving in and giving me another release. My hands dug into his back, gripping into the hard muscles, my legs shaking, and with one final word, I was about to soften the beast inside him.
“River,” I cried out.
A moment later, Shooter reached his climax, emptying his release inside me. My body shuddered at the memory of his words “breeding this pussy” and watching him unravel. I clung to him, his beard tickling my cheeks. I loved every moment of it.
He buried himself in my neck, his cock still twitching and coming down from his own release.
“Thank you, sugar,” I whispered, stroking his back.
He rolled us to myself laying on top of him. “I will always take care of you.”
I left reality behind and indulged in our world a little longer.
I wasn’t thinking I was broken, I had a man that knew how to fuck me and give me what I needed.
I just wanted to stay like that forever without the threat of the real world surrounding us.
I believed that I was his, and in some twisted fashion, I believe he was mine.