by Voss, Deja
“Show me. Show me how wet I make you.”
She clamps her curvy thighs together tighter, as if she’s suddenly turned into some sort of good girl, as if there’s still a chance for her to maintain her dignity. Her little tease is only adding fuel to my fire, but I’m going to keep pushing her right up to that edge.
I kneel down in front of her, and she jumps as I run my fingers up and down the tops of her thighs, resting my hands on her knees. She smiles seductively, not breaking eye contact as I begin to pry her legs apart.
I run my hands up the insides of her thighs, stopping right at the crease where her hips meet her legs. I can feel the heat radiating from her, her sweet scent permeating the air as I hold her splayed open.
“Please,” she mouths, barely making a sound as I edge my thumbs closer to the sides of her swollen mound, slick with anticipation.
I’ve been waiting for this moment for months. Waiting to have her right where I want her, gripped tight in my hands, legs spread wide open just for me, begging me to touch her. I trace the outside of her lower lips with my fingers, slowly dragging them up and down as her thighs begin to quiver.
She bucks her hips in the air, begging for more, urging me to part her folds. I just stare into her eyes, smiling deviously, pressing my other hand firmly into her lower stomach, stilling her movement with my strength. She lets out an impatient sigh and I curl my fingers, slapping her puffed up little mound just hard enough to make her gasp.
“I know, doll,” I say. “Your greedy pussy is so impatient.”
I coat my fingers with her slickness, bringing them to her lips. She hungrily takes them into her mouth, swirling her tongue around, and I imagine that hot mouth of hers on my cock. Not yet, though. I need to hear her scream first.
“You’re so naughty, babe. I bet you’re fucking delicious.”
“Please, Gavin,” she whines again. “Please fuck me.” My dick is thumping hard in my jeans. Her begging is driving me absolutely insane.
I grab her hips, pulling her to the edge of the bed so her beautiful pussy is right in front of my face, taking in the sight for the first time. Her swollen pink clit sticks out from between her glistening lips, and I spread her creases further, exposing that pretty pink hole that wants nothing more than for me to fill it.
I start from the bottom with a flat tongue, working my way up to her clit, circling it a few times before starting over again. Her moans are deep and primal, and she thrusts and spasms as I grip her hips tighter and tighter, pulling her into my face, teasing her thighs with my beard.
“Fuck, I need you inside me,” she screams out.
“Just relax,” I growl. “Once I get you cumming, you’re not gonna stop ’til there’s nothing left in you, Sloan.”
She’s grabbing her tits, squeezing those perky, fleshy globes so hard that she’s leaving handprints behind, and I go back to working on her clit, taking it in my mouth. Her feet are flailing like a mad woman.
I slide two fingers inside of her with ease, the soft velvety lining of her pussy spasming around me, gripping me tight. I turn my fingers upwards, hooking her G-spot, pressing down on her stomach as I press up on it with as much force as I can.
“Gavin,” she wails, trying to slide up the bed, trying to clench her thighs shut around my ears.
“Relax,” I laugh, letting my hot breath torment her clit. The look on her face is terrified, but by the way she’s twisting her nipples and her high-pitched little squeals, there’s no turning back for her.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” she mewls, but I am relentless. I push up harder inside of her as I flatten my hand onto her stomach, pinning her to the bed.
There’s nothing like making a woman cum from the inside out. Especially when they have no idea what’s about to happen.
In about five seconds, I’m going to own her pussy. I can feel it in the way her walls are colliding around my fingers, her throaty moans, her feet digging into my shoulders, trying to push me away.
I take her clit in my mouth and enjoy every second of the explosion, her juices coating my hand, my face; she’s gushing like a geyser, her screams bordering sobs. I plant kisses all over the inside of her trembling thighs as she slowly comes down.
“Holy shit,” she mutters, trying to contain herself in between bated breaths. “Get up here,” she pleads.
I climb on top of her writhing body, pressing my lips to hers for a passionate kiss, taking her tongue in my mouth and circling it with mine.
“What the hell was that?” she moans, pulling away.
“How do you feel?” I ask.
She begins pulling off my shirt, and I weaken under her touch, her fingers drawing circles on my chest, playfully.
“Mmmm,” she purrs. “Stupid, horny, drunk, I don’t know. I think I’m still cumming.”
I drag my lips across her collarbone and she squeals. “You probably are. I told you I knew what I was doing.”
“I feel like I need to give you my wallet or something. You’re making me fucking crazy!”
She fumbles with my belt as I let my mouth travel to her hard pebbled nipple. She tugs my jeans and boxer briefs down with urgency, and it’s a good thing. My cock is rock-hard and ready to fill every inch of her.
“Oh fuck, Gavin,” she says, her eyes wide as saucers. “You’re huge.”
I run the tip of my cock up and down her thigh and she trembles.
“You want me to be gentle?” I ask.
She looks at me, seriously, deviously, her dark eyes glimmering with unbridled lust.
“Fuck me, Gavin,” she begs. “Wreck me.”
Sloan:
I don’t know what this man is doing to me, but it’s nothing that I’ve ever felt before. Sure, I’ve had more orgasms than I can count, but not like this. Usually after I cum, I want to roll over and go to sleep, but he’s turned me into this insatiable lusty whore. Every time he touches me, waves crash through my body, pushing me further and further over the edge. I’m laying in a puddle of my own wetness, and we haven’t even got to the good part yet.
His dick is a work of art—hard, veiny, and thick. I swirl my finger around its velvety tip, catching the dribble of precum and bringing it to my lips. His manly musk—sweaty and earthy— overpowers me. I want everything he has to offer.
He’s slapping his cock off my clit, shooting sparks of pain and pleasure through every inch of my body. I can’t make words. Just please… fuck… me…
And yet he’s so smooth and calculated. Completely in control. I’m clawing at his chest, trying to pull him into me, and he’s delighting in my fervor, watching my every move with amusement.
I should be ashamed of myself, but I’m so far gone beyond the point of dignity.
“Please,” I scream, desperate for him to push that thick beast inside me and rip me in two.
“You’re a greedy girl, Sloan. You want me to fuck you? Roll over.”
I prop myself up on hands and knees and he runs his palms up and down my ass cheeks.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he sighs. “I could just stare at your ass all day.”
As nice as his touch feels, I need more. I spread my legs a little wider, thrusting my hips towards him, trying to line myself up with the tip of the hard dick that’s poking into the back of my thigh.
He grabs my legs, and I feel him inching his way up my lips. The pressure is intense and I can’t help but scream, a loud guttural cry, while he works his way into me.
“You think I make you crazy?” he growls into my ear, pushing into me with one fell thrust, holding me onto his cock as my tight walls struggle to adjust. “Sloan, you’ve been driving me fucking nuts since the second I met you. You should’ve ran far away when you had the chance, because now that I have you, I’m not gonna let you go.”
It’s a good thing, because I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk for a week. I definitely can’t talk. Even thinking is beyond my comprehension. All I know is that right now, right in
this moment, he could do whatever he wanted to me and I wouldn’t so much as raise a pinky finger to try and stop him.
He begins to thrust in and out of me; slow, hard, controlled. Every time he slides back, I grip the sheets tighter and tighter. I feel like he’s going to fuck me straight through the mattress, into the floorboards, into the ground, and I would die happy. His chiseled thighs slap off the back of my ass as he wraps my hair around his clenched fist, dominating me, letting me know that he’s good on his word. He’s not letting me get away.
“You like when I stuff your pussy? You’re so fucking soaked, babe.”
The mixture of hurt and intense pleasure, feeling him owning me, needing me, using me, overwhelms me, and all I can do is scream his name.
“You feel so good, Sloan,” he moans. A calloused hand gropes and squeezes at my breast with a lust-fueled intensity that I’ve never felt before.
He’s a beast, panting, groaning, unrelenting. He pulls out and flips me over on my back with all his strength and might colliding into me again, his hard chest pressed into mine.
My fingers dig into his back.
My toes curl.
“Cum for me, girl,” he growls. My walls are squeezing down on his dick, spasming, milking him for everything he has.
It’s like he has me under a spell and can make me cum with just the sound of his voice, his urging. Not to mention his perfect dick touching me in places I’ve never felt before, the primal movement of his hips, and the way he’s handling my body like he knows just how to teeter that line between fucking me and fucking destroying me.
“That’s it, girl, let it all out. Show me how you cum.” I happily oblige, squirming underneath him, moaning in his ear as I grab for his ass, holding onto him, wedging him as deep inside me as he will go.
“I love the way you scream for me,” he moans, kissing my neck.
I’m glad, because I don’t think I’m going to stop anytime soon.
“You’re gonna make me cum, Sloan,” he says, his face contorting, and I feel his dick throbbing inside me. “I’m gonna fill your pussy.”
The walls of this camp couldn’t contain our moans as his cock erupts inside me. I take everything he has to offer, contracting around him with some sort of animalistic need to be full of his hot load. He roughly mashes his lips to mine, forcing his tongue deep into my mouth as he offers me his final thrusts.
His kisses soften into something so much lighter, raging lust melting into playful joy. I’m back on the ground, no longer a windup fuck doll, but a grown woman who just discovered what it feels like to be with someone who can fully appreciate their body.
He rolls over with a thud, his hand resting on my thigh, a smile wrapped across his face as he tries to catch his breath.
“Sorry,” he says. “I’m out of practice.”
“Holy shit, Gavin,” I laugh. “I don’t think I could handle you in prime shape. You’d probably kill me.”
“I don’t think so.” He drags his fingers up my stomach and I jump, my body still trembling. “You’re pretty wild, you know. So fucking sexy.”
He grabs my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing my fingers as we lie there for a minute, collecting our thoughts and snapping back to reality.
“Hey, Gavin,” I giggle, running my hand down the hair on his chest. “What are the odds that lasagna is done baking? I seriously am starving.”
We just had the kind of sex that makes you want to climb out a winder afterwards, never to have to look that person in the eye again, and I’m trying to stick around for dinner.
He laughs as he kisses me on the forehead, his hair damp with sweat, and I watch every ink-lined muscle on his glorious back, his thick hard ass, walk across the room into the kitchen. Everything about this man turns me inside out.
The worst part is, I feel like if this was in fact a one-night stand, I’d be devastated.
Every second I feel closer to him.
The way he makes me feel, the way he looks at me, the way he puts me on a pedestal and wants to care for me, it’s every girl’s dream.
But I’ve lived that dream once before, and in the end, it was a nightmare.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier,” I say, smiling. He’s standing there in nothing but a pair of oven mitts, lasagna in tow. “Eunice is already going to be mortified by these sheets, though. I don’t think spaghetti sauce is going to help our cause any.”
Chapter 11
Gavin
We sit at the little coffee table in our underwear and eat lasagna directly from the pan. It’s kind of a ridiculous moment, but cute nonetheless. She’s shoveling pasta in her mouth like there’s no tomorrow, and I can’t help but stare.
“What?” she asks, mid bite.
“You’re just so fucking adorable.” She is. In one second, she’s this wild and sexy beast letting a stranger brutally fuck her, and in the next breath, she’s casually forking food in her face like she’s known me her entire life. It just feels right.
“I’m sorry, this is just really good. That Eunice is a keeper.”
“You cold?” I ask, eyeing her hard little nipples.
“I think it’s just the lasagna,” she laughs.
“Remind me to ask her for the recipe.”
I make my way to the fireplace, stacking wood from the pile into formation.
“What are you doing?” she asks me.
“I’m building you a fire. It’s a mountain man thing. I don’t want you to freeze to death tonight.”
“Gavin, I can see the heat vents in the baseboards. You really don’t have to do all that.”
“This shit is romantic. You can’t take that away from me.”
I get the fire started and turn off the lights in the room. The soft glow illuminates her smiling face and her soft gorgeous body as she sits there on the couch.
“I feel like we did this a little ass-backwards, though,” I say. “The dinner and the fire were supposed to be what got you to have sex with me.” I join her on the couch, grabbing her feet and resting them on my lap, teasing my hand up and down her calves.
“Oh come on, did you really think I was going to put up a fight?”
“I didn’t actually. It was everyone else that was worried.”
“Everyone else?”
“Sloan, you know how things are. Girls like you don’t usually end up with guys like me. I just wanted to make sure I was doing right by you.”
“Girls like me?” She shakes her head. “You don’t even know what kind of girl I am. Although I’m sure you have a pretty good idea now.”
I knew from the moment I met her what kind of girl she was, even if I couldn’t put it into words. She’s the kind of girl who makes people better. In the operating room and in life. She’s the kind of girl I need to be around, be inside, spend the rest of my days with. She’s the kind of girl who doesn’t see her own worth because she’s too busy building everyone else up.
“Sloan, you wear it all on your sleeve. I know exactly what kind of girl you are, and that’s why you scare the shit out of me in the best possible way.”
“Wait ’til you hear how loud I snore,” she giggles. “I’ll scare the shit out of you in the worst possible way.”
I carry her back to the bed, spooning her tight, my arms wrapped around her soft body as she nuzzles her face into the side of my bicep. It just feels so right, the culmination of a perfect night.
I can tell she’s drifting off, and I’m torn.
I’m trying not to ruin the moment, but I feel like I need to be completely honest with her. I’ve known enough prolific biker love stories that went down in flames due to lack of complete truth-telling, but there comes a point where sometimes you just have to dance around some details in order to protect the ones you care about.
My phone rings, and I know exactly who it is.
I hit the button to silence it.
“It’s ok,” she says, her eyes still closed. “Go ahead.”
I run my hands through her hair, I kiss her face; I don’t want to get up and face the reality that is my fucked-up family. I don’t want to let them destroy this night. I slide on my boxer briefs and step outside into the freezing cold night air.
“We got him,” my dad growls.
“Ok.”
“You with the girl?”
I don’t know what his fixation is. What his fascination is. She’s the one who told him to take him to begin with. She’s the one who hid the drugs.
“Why do you care?”
“You coming back tonight? I got a drop that needs done first thing in the morning.”
“No, Dad. I’ve been drinking,” I lie. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
I hang up the phone and head back inside. She’s curled up in a ball, tangled in the covers, fast asleep. It’s a beautiful sight. One that I don’t need to be disturbing.
Sloan
“Sloan Sullivan,” the police officer calls out as he unlocks the holding cell.
I was only supposed to be here for a few hours, but I’d given up hope a long time ago. I’m dirty and hungry and my back hurts from leaning up against a wall, too afraid to sit down or I’ll fall asleep. I nurse my bandaged arm. I would be mortified if any of my patients were doing this the day after such a traumatic injury.
It had to be done, though. The only way to get out from under that abusive asshole and on with my life was to let them arrest me. Let them play their games with me. The police officer leads me to the interrogation room. Everyone sitting across the table from me is wearing a badge. I feel like I should have a lawyer.
I answer their questions with complete honesty.
Yes, I was aware of what was going on. Yes, I can tell you who his contacts are, and where his sources are located. Names, phone numbers, addresses, aliases, you call it. I’ve been stashing them away in every recess of my mind since the day all this started to go down.