by Chelle Bliss
Her lips taste like tequila and feel like the softest velvet I’ve ever touched. I want to lose myself in her sweet softness and forget all the bad shit in my life.
She’s the perfect distraction, and from the way she’s kissing me back, rubbing up against me, she wants this as badly as I do.
I tangle my fingers into her wild, dark hair, tipping her head back, giving me complete access to kiss her deeper, harder. Her moan passes between her lips, sliding into my mouth along with her tongue.
My entire body tingles like I’m being shocked by nothing more than her touch. The hand I’ve had on her back drifts lower, roughly cupping her round ass cheek over her skirt.
“I want you,” she whispers into my mouth between kisses. “I want you so fucking bad.”
“Shh,” I tell her, not needing to hear those words coming from her lips. It’s taking everything in me to go slow, savoring the moment, and most definitely not screwing her brains out. I pull away, only far enough to see her eyes. “I’ll give you what you need, princess.”
Her legs are instantly around my waist, clinging to me and leaving no space between my jeans-covered dick and her…
Is she wearing underwear?
I’d thought once or twice about the tiny skirt she was wearing and if she had anything on underneath. All night, I tried like hell not to fixate on something I’d probably never get the answer to.
I groan when she moves her hips, crushing my cock between my jeans and my pelvis. All the cuteness I thought she had is nothing in comparison to the hot-as-fuck sex kitten currently riding my cock.
Her fingers are under my shirt and then in the back of my pants, digging those claws into the meaty flesh of my ass. The mix of pleasure and pain has me panting and kissing her harder, deeper.
I walk backward, toeing off my boots, with my arms holding her tight and our mouths fused together. When the backs of my knees hit the small bed, I say, “Watch out, princess. We’re going for a ride.”
Her eyes flash before she untangles her legs, but she doesn’t climb down, holding herself against me with one arm wrapped around my neck. I fall back onto the mattress, taking her with me, gasping when her pussy slams down on my cock with so much force, I actually lose my breath. She doesn’t miss a beat, grinding against me, tits almost to my chin, giving me the air I’d lost from her own sweet lips.
Warm wetness soaks through my jeans, coating my cock as she swivels her hips, torturing me. I slide my hand up her leg, moving over her hip, searching for the edge of her panties, but I find nothing but soft bare skin.
Sweet Jesus.
My cock twitches, earning me a moan from Tamara as my fingers dig into her ass cheek, pulling her down harder, controlling the pace.
“I want to come,” she pleads, shifting back to stare down at me and fighting the rhythm I’m giving her.
I roll over, putting her under me, my cock still pressed against her sweet cunt. “Not like that,” I murmur against her lips, praying I have enough strength not to fuck her brains out.
This will be a test of will. But she isn’t just any chick… She’s a fascinating mix of pure sweetness and total wildcat.
I’m totally fucked with her, but not in the way I want to be.
A girl like her could mess with a man’s mind as well as crush his heart, laughing in his face the entire time he’s pleading for his soul back.
She blinks up at me when I pull away, that cute smile playing on her lips. “You gonna fuck me?” she taunts, knowing damn well I was ordered not to sleep with her.
“With my mouth and my fingers, baby, but nothing more.”
Her pout is immediate and fierce. “But…”
I shake my head and press my lips to hers again before she can beg for my dick. A guy can only handle so much before he snaps. And right now, I’m hanging on by the thinnest of threads.
My hand is under her skirt a second later, caressing the skin of her inner thigh as she lifts her ass off the bed, begging for more. I smile against her lips, liking the way she kisses and loving how needy and greedy she is.
A few inches higher, I glide my fingers across her slick skin, and I can’t stop the low rumble from building in the back of my throat.
Fuck.
I want her.
I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted anyone more in my life.
Her fingers grip my shoulders as she pants against my lips, lifting those lush hips higher, granting me access. My fingers only graze the outside of her pussy, up and down, up and down, until my fingertips are coated and she’s frantically chasing my hand, wanting my fingers inside.
“I need you,” she moans, dropping her knees to the bed, spreading herself wide open.
I pull away, crawling down her body and stopping to kiss the round peaks of her breasts sticking out from her tank top. The girl is mint, and her rack is something a man could spend hours admiring and still never get enough.
But there’s no time for that now.
She needs me, and fuck, I have to taste her.
Nestling between her legs, I flip up her skirt, exposing her golden-brown skin. My mouth waters at the sight of her sleek, bare cunt, glistening in the dim lighting of the room, open and waiting to be devoured.
I gaze up the length of her, locking eyes as I lift myself up on one elbow and tuck a hand under her thigh to hold her. My touch is whisper-soft just above her clit, drifting downward as slowly as I possibly can.
She sucks in a breath, her hazel eyes rolling back as the pad of my thumb crosses over her sensitive skin, finding the target. I bend my neck, keeping my eyes on her as I place the flat of my tongue against her clit, getting my first taste.
And holy mother of God, the sweetness of her exploding across my taste buds is nothing but pure ecstasy.
She gasps as I close my lips around her, sucking her softness into my mouth, worshiping her pussy with my tongue. I moan my appreciation, sliding a single finger around her opening, wanting to crawl inside her. She licks her lips, eyes locked on me, panting as I push inside.
When her hand slides up her stomach to her chest and she tweaks a hard nipple with her fingertips, I almost lose it.
God is fucking with me.
Plain and simple.
He’s paying me back for some dumb shit I’ve done in my life, and there’s been plenty.
Nothing like throwing this hot-as-fuck girl at me, totally comfortable in her sexuality, tasting like heaven and looking like sin, and making it so I can’t bury myself so deep in her I never want to leave.
She lifts her hips, pressing her pussy against my face as I bury a second finger inside her, thrusting deep and rough. I’m a man on a mission. Possessed and driven to do nothing more than give this girl the best damn orgasm of her life and make sure she never forgets me.
I curl my fingers every time I pull out, stroking her G-spot, driving her closer to the edge and digging my grave of misery even deeper.
“Oh. My. God. I’m gonna come.” She rocks those sweet hips toward me, smashing her pussy against my face. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” She gives me no room to breathe, grinding against my lips as I push my fingers deeper.
If I were any less of a man, I would’ve come right then and there. The way her mouth falls open, her golden-brown skin peppered with sweat, gasping for air as her body twitches, coming all over my fingers.
Goddamn.
More than her pussy slams into me in that moment. I am struck by the realization that I want nothing more than to watch her shatter from my lips, my fingers, and my cock over and over again.
“Baby—” she lifts herself up on her elbows “—it’s my turn to get the real mammoth.” She smiles, licking her lips.
Yeah, I’m so, so, so fucked…and not in the way I want to be either.
4
Tamara
I wince as I roll over, the pounding inside my head almost unbearable, and collide with something hot and completely naked. I blink through my sleepy haze and pain—until I see his face.
Mammoth’s
eyes are open, staring down at me. “Mornin’, princess,” he rasps in a sexy-as-hell, first-thing-in-the-morning tone, which has probably melted more panties than I care to think about.
“Morning.” I nuzzle into his warmth, flashes of last night coming back to me.
The dimple, the one that started all the trouble, peeks out as his mouth tips upward at one side. “Sleep okay?”
“I did.” I give him a lazy smile and immediately scrunch my nose, regretting the tequila.
“Tequila got you?” The lines near his eyes deepen, no doubt loving my misery.
“No,” I lie.
“Still fuckin’ cute.”
“Mammoth.” My lips flatten, trying not to find him irresistible, which is pretty damn hard because in the dictionary, there’s a picture of him as the perfect definition.
“Princess.” He lifts an eyebrow with that fuckin’ smirk firmly planted on his gorgeous face.
I chew on my lip as he gazes at me with those smoky gray eyes, just smirking that hot, smug smirk he’s perfected. “Hey, Mammoth?”
“Yeah?” he grunts.
“Why didn’t you let me return the favor last night? I mean, I know sometimes after drinking, older guys have problems getting it—”
He reaches up, pressing his index finger against my lips. “Stop.”
“Up,” I add, saying the word against his skin with a smile because that smirk, the one that got me into so much trouble, is gone.
He’s on me in a flash, rolling me to my back, hovering above me. “I’m not old, princess, and I’ve never in my life had trouble getting it up.” There’s a growl to his voice, a defensiveness that makes my inner cheerleader give me sparkle-fingers. I broke the façade, insulting his manhood.
“Don’t be ashamed, baby. It happens to everyone,” I tease, but my smile falters as soon as his hard, thick cock presses against my middle.
“Does that feel limp to you, baby?” He leans forward, nipping at my bottom lip with his teeth.
“Well…” I try not to push myself down, impaling my body on his hard shaft, “Not necessarily. I can definitely feel there’s something there.”
Without another word, he crashes his lips down on mine, sucking all the smartass right out of me. I’m panting within a second, rocking my pussy against the underside of his cock a few seconds after that.
Oh God, he feels so good.
So hard.
So thick.
So Mammoth.
“You want me, Tamara?” he murmurs against my lips, eyes blazing with so much heat, it’s a miracle he doesn’t burn me with his touch.
“I do.” I gasp as the head of his cock slides over my clit, sending a shock wave through my system. “I want you so fuckin’ much right now.”
He pulls his mouth away, rubbing his beard against my jaw, growling. “We can’t,” he says just as I’m reaching between us to palm his dick.
“What?” My eyes snap open as I gape at him, shocked and confused. “Why? Who cares what Morris says? He’s not my father.”
He shakes his head, sliding down my body, dragging that goddamn beard across my skin before he and the coarseness of his hair is gone. “We can’t,” he repeats as if I didn’t hear him the first time.
I lift myself up, gawking at his naked body as he stands at the end of the bed, not trying to cover himself at all. The artwork on his skin is nothing short of amazing. There’s not an inch that isn’t covered by black ink. “I promised Morris,” he sighs, running his fingers through his hair, “I can’t break that trust.”
“I won’t tell,” is all I can say because, holy fuck…he’s a piece of ass, looking better naked than he ever did with clothes. If I wouldn’t look like a complete idiot, I’d cry from the sheer beauty of him.
His cock twitches, catching my eye because I’ve been too busy gawking at the rest of him to check out his package completely. When it sparkles, I propel myself forward, needing a better look.
“You have piercings?” I ask, my eyes never leaving his giant, bedazzled dick. “Lemme see.” I wiggle my fingers, begging for him to step closer.
How did I not feel that when I was rubbing against him like a cat in heat?
“Don’t touch,” he warns and doesn’t move as I’d asked. “I can’t have you touching my junk right now.”
“Big pussy,” I mutter, finally looking up to his face. “Fine. I promise not to touch your junk. Happy?” Rolling my eyes, I curse under my breath, calling him another name as I come face-to-face with Mr. Mammoth himself in all his freaking glory.
And, goddamn, is it glorious.
It’s a work of art.
If I could have a poster above my bed, something to pleasure myself to every night, it would totally be Mammoth’s cock.
“How long ago did you get this?” I scoot closer so I’m only a couple inches away.
“Four years ago,” he says in a strained voice, hands on his hips like he’s trying to hold himself back.
“I’d love to get my hood pierced,” I admit, having never told anyone that before, but feeling the need to tell him everything.
Mammoth coughs, grabbing on to his hips so tightly, his knuckles turn white. “So, get it.”
I snort. “My father would kill me.”
His knees lock, sending his cock a little closer to my face. “Why does your father need to know? I mean, that’s weird. Do you have some sick relationship I need to know about?”
I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. “No,” I groan, knowing that’s exactly how it sounded when the words flew out of my mouth. “He owns a tattoo and piercing shop. If I did it anywhere in the lower forty-eight states, I guarantee that shit would get back to him before I could hobble out the door and gingerly climb in my car.”
“That makes more sense,” he laughs, causing his long, hard, straight-as-an-arrow prick to wave in my face, taunting me.
“Stop it,” I hiss, glaring up at him. “You can’t say I can’t touch and then wave it around like some forbidden prize I’ll never be able to win. Be fair.”
He grunts, locking his knees again as he squeezes his eyes shut like he’s physically in pain. “Be quick. I can’t stand here all day for you to stare at my dick. It’s torture, princess. I can feel your warm breath across my skin, and it’s taking everything in me not to shove my cock right into that pretty little mouth of yours right now.”
I gape at him. “I should’ve sucked your dick last night.”
He shakes his head, setting the dick into motion again. “Last night was about you. Not me.”
I jerk my head back, totally thrown off by his selflessness.
No guy, and I mean not one that I’ve fooled around with in my twenty-one years, has ever worried about my pleasure. “You have an old lady?” I ask, figuring maybe he made a promise about where his dick could go, and it didn’t include other women’s mouths.
“No.”
“Celibate?” I raise an eyebrow.
The laughter is immediate, sending his body and cock into a tizzy. “Definitely not.”
I reach out, grabbing on to his thighs and hauling him forward so I can keep staring at the magnificence. “Then why didn’t I at least give you a handy?” I ask, holding him still and dropping my gaze back to the promised land.
“A handy?” he asks.
“You know, a hand job,” I whisper in complete awe of the giant hunk of metal in his cock. “This Prince Albert is something else in person. So much scarier.” I thought I’d at least thought the last words instead of speaking them, but I didn’t.
That much is clear as soon as he says, “But it feels oh so good when it’s deep inside.”
“Fuck,” I hiss, totally embarrassed and turned on. “So again, not even a hand job?” I’m changing the subject, trying not to think about how the cool metal would feel sliding in and out, in and out, in and out.
Shit.
“I haven’t had a hand job since high school,” he confesses, and my head snaps upward, meeting his eyes.
“For real?”
He nods, the smug grin back on his lips. “Princess, why would I need a hand when there’re pussies and mouths out there?”
Flashes of dozens of chicks filled with his cock go through my head, playing like a porno on fast-forward. I hate them all immediately. I want them all to die cruel and horrible deaths because they’ve feasted on a cock that wasn’t meant to be mine. “But my mouth and pussy aren’t good enough?” I grind out, glaring daggers at him.
He’s out of my grip, stepping back, cock waving like it’s saying goodbye.
We could’ve been great friends. Had such an amazing give-and-take relationship, sharing everything.
But no.
The hottie isn’t that into me or else he’d be in me already.
“Damn it.” He stalks across the room and grabs his pants off the floor, giving me a sweet view of his fine, toned ass. “Why do you have to make an impossible situation even harder?”
I’m on my knees, breasts exposed to his hungry eyes, not the least bit bashful about my nudity. “I didn’t know offering a hand job was going to set you off. Jesus.” I throw up my hands as I crawl toward the edge, giving him a better look because fuck him. If he’s going to tease me, I’m sure as hell going to tease him too.
“Stop,” he demands, his voice deep and dangerous.
I lick my lips, thinking maybe I’m finally going to get a taste of the jewelry.
He yanks his jeans up his legs, tucking the work of art into the denim.
Goodbye, Mr. Bedazzle.
“Get dressed,” he tells me, striding toward the door without pulling up his zipper. “I’ll meet you by the bar.” He shows me his tatted back, opens the door, and storms out, slamming the heavy wood behind him.
“Well, okay,” I whisper with wide eyes, talking to nobody but myself. “Whatever the fuck that was. Goddamn bikers. Bunch of pussies.”
“What the fuck!” a voice comes from the hallway. A voice that most certainly was not Mammoth. “What the fuck did I tell you?”
Uh oh.
Morris.
I tiptoe off the bed, careful not to make a sound as I make my way to the door, pressing my ear against the wood.