by Liv Bennett
If I was embarrassed for moaning at his kisses earlier, I’m now terrified of screaming as soon as his lips touch my upper thigh, only inches away from my sex. He lingers, as he licks his way all around my slit, but not inside, making me want to slap him hard to knock some sense into him.
Bastard!
Totally ignoring my overly needy sex, he grabs my other leg and re-does the licking and sucking thing with it.
When he’s back between my legs, I reach down and run my fingers through his hair and plead with the most pathetic and miserable tone in my voice, “Please. I’m ready. Take me now.”
He smirks and lowers his head. His gaze focused on mine, he releases his tongue and presses it against my center, where juices run freely. Lost in a dazed haze of lust, I squeeze my legs around his head and grind my hips against his mouth. He licks and sucks my folds but doesn’t push it farther inside, leaving me hanging on just a fraction away from an all-consuming orgasm.
“Fuck, me already,” I yell uncontrollably, lift my head, and pull his hair so his face is at the same level as mine. When our eyes lock, I lower my voice as I beg again, “Please, take me now.” I feel like crying and bursting into wild tears, before bursting into any kind of orgasm if he continues this torture.
He pushes me onto my back, slips his arms under my shoulders to hold me in place and positions himself between my legs. Oh, he’s going to enter me.
Please, do it me already!
“Are you sure about it, Taylor?” he asks me, stressing my name. I haven’t been so damn sure about anything these past three painful years as much as wanting him inside me now. But, if I try and explain my thoughts him to him, I’ve no doubt my tongue will fail me.
“Yes.” As soon as the word is out of my mouth, he slams his cock deep inside me with one swift move, taking me by complete surprise.
“Fuck, you feel so good.”
I smirk and let out a relieved breath. I can feel a mind-blowing, earth-shuddering orgasm approaching. My breath hitching uncontrollably, I squeeze the bed covers, waiting for the pleasure taking over my body. But, it turns out Adam’s torture hasn’t come to an end yet, because he pulls back until only the head of his cock is inside me.
“Did you think I’d let you have it so quickly?”
“What?” I lift my head to shoot him a fierce look.
He pulls away his arms, and presses his hands on my thighs to open them wide, and starts to thrusts only a third of his cock inside me with an unnervingly slow speed. I try to wrap my legs around his hips to get all of him. Without success, since his hands push my legs further apart.
“You’re an asshole,” I roar, finally done with his torture and pull myself back, letting his penis completely out of me. Once I stand on my knees, I shove him with all my anger and frustration. “Back off. It’s over. I’m through with begging you.”
He grabs my wrist, but I manage to yank it free, jump from the bed, and race toward the door. Before I can escape, he blocks my way and grabs me by my waist.
“You’re not going anywhere, until I fuck you properly.”
“You’d have done it hours ago if you were man enough,” I shout and push his chest with my fists, but his grip is too tight, and he pulls my hips and glues them against his. His erection is warm and wet on my skin, reminding me momentarily of the pleasure it gave me only a few seconds ago.
“You’re so sexy when you’re upset.” He cups my buttocks and lifts me off my feet.
“Let go of me,” I scream from the top of my lungs and begin slapping his face and chest.
Undisturbed by my slaps, he carries me to the bed and throws me in the center of it.
I’m breathless, desperate, frustrated, and frantic. I have neither the energy nor the will to fight him. I may consider forgiving him for torturing me if he takes me here and now.
“Fuck me, please,” I say between my labored breaths.
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you.”
“Say my name.”
“I want you, Adam. Please, fuck me already.”
He climbs up onto the bed, and flips me onto my knees and elbows with a swift move, and plunges into me with everything he’s got.
I scream as the pain and pleasure hit me with full force, once he starts pounding in and out like a jackhammer. It takes only three strokes, before I shudder with a powerful and mind-numbing orgasm, making my inner muscles clench violently around him. Tears begin rolling down to the bed at the intense sensation taking over my entire body and mind.
He pulls back until only the head of his cock is inside me and curses several times under his breath. “Are you trying to take your revenge?” He shoves his length full force back inside me. If he wasn’t holding my hips, his thrusts would send me rolling down the bed.
As soon as the spasms of the orgasm subsides, a new wave of intense pleasure starts to form with each thrust of his throbbing cock. I crumble, weep, tremble, and shake, when a serious of orgasms ripples my core. He doesn’t last long either and explodes inside me. In unison, we collapse to the bed—he on top of me—sweaty, breathless, and worn-out.
CHAPTER 14 - ADAM
I’m in an ocean, wrapped up in a swaddle like a baby. An unusual feeling of warmth and safety engulfs me. A sweet scent of strawberries hits my nose, and I’m vaguely aware of Taylor lying beside me. Slowly, my dream fades away, but the enveloping warmth stays, and I suddenly realize why. Taylor is sleeping, spooned in my arms, her back facing my chest.
And I’m still inside her, my penis semi-hard.
How did that happen?
We both must have passed out right after the sex. I dare not move so she can sleep longer, yet my cock twitches and hardens with the moist heat embracing it tightly. It’s an unusually arousing and incredibly intimate feeling, and makes me wonder why I haven’t tried it before. Maybe, it has to be with the right person.
Being inside her and one with her in every sense is overwhelming both for my cock and my heart, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to let her continue sleeping for long. My hips begin to make small circles as if they have their own mind, pushing and probing as discreetly as possible. I wonder how she feels, and whether my hardening cock is causing her to have some wild dreams. Her dreams can’t be as wild as what I’m about to give her, though.
She hums, her arms move up to her face, rubbing her eyes. A moment of silence later, she asks, “How did you…?”
I chuckle. “I’ve never left.”
She turns her head toward me, facing me sideway. “Is that even possible?”
“Apparently.” Taking advantage of her awakened state, I begin thrusting her harder, still slow enough to enjoy it a little longer.
She moans and pushes herself toward me. “It feels kind of strange.”
“Good strange, right?”
“Hmm hmm.” She throws a hand over to me and grabs my hip to make me push harder into her.
I slide a hand under her arm and cup her breast, and with the other one, I massage my way over her belly down to her sex. Shameless tiny whimpers escape her mouth one after another, taking away the little control I have. She digs her nails into my ass, when I rub her clitoris and pulls my hand that’s cupping her breast up to her mouth, sucking my thumb. Fuck!
I thrust into her harder, but the position doesn’t give me enough space to move freely. So I roll us face down, without pulling out from her, and settle between her legs. Lifting her hips, I plunge into her.
She’s panting with desire and urgency, just like me. Her groans are growing louder by the second. I ram into her harder with furious intensity, enjoying each and every sensation her wet muscles are giving me as they spasm and vibrate. She’s giving herself to me completely and freely, letting me drive her wild, and crazy, and into the deep seas of bliss.
What is better than to give it hard to a woman you love and see how she shudders and breaks apart with the ecstasy of an intense orgasm? And by the feel of it, Taylor is having more than just one org
asm. I want this to last forever, me driving into her with everything I’ve got, she yelping with yet another surge of orgasm. But, my heart will explode if I don’t end it soon. So I ram into her one last hard stroke before I detonate inside her, making her mine again. We collapse over the bed, breathless and satiated.
She can’t escape me, even if she tries.
She’s mine. Completely.
***
Muffled sounds somewhere away wakes me up to a dark room. I roll over to feel for Taylor. Just the thought of her, the dream-like memories of her begging me, crying for me to take her, then me waking up inside her make me want to re-live the night again. I’ll probably never forget the yet-another round of amazing sex with her, even if I suffer from severe dementia in my elderly years.
Taylor passed out instantly after giving herself to me the last time, so I had to carry her up to the pillows and tug her back under the sheets, where she’d been hiding herself from me before my kiss shower started. Even better than the sex was being able to hold her tight while falling asleep next to her, inhaling her sweet fragrance, and feeling her warmth beside me in the privacy of my own bedroom.
I jerk up in the bed when I realize she’s not there, and the muffled sounds become louder by the second. I listen attentively to determine what the source of the sound is and more importantly where Taylor is.
My mind is lethargic and foggy, as I jump from the bed and walk toward the attached bathroom to find Taylor sitting on the floor, grabbing the toilet bowl.
Shit, she’s throwing up again, and I can’t stop wondering about the slight but still significant chances of her being pregnant.
Her bare body is shaking with each wave of puke. She raises her beaten face to me, probably trying to ask me to leave her alone without saying any words. Maybe that’s the thing I should do, but I don’t want her suffering alone, even if she may think I’d be disgusted. I was at Adriana’s child’s birth—because her husband was stuck at the airport and there was no one else who could be with her—and seeing all the blood and the entire placenta. Now, that was disgusting. Taylor’s sitting on the floor and emptying her stomach does nothing to me, save for the feeling of compassion that swells in my chest.
I grab a hand towel and soak it in cold water to give it to her. “You should go see a doctor. Do you have this frequently?”
“No, not really.” The way she averts her eyes away makes me wonder whether she’s hiding something from me. Last time I saw her vomiting was right after amazing sex, just like this time. Can the incidents be psychological, say, maybe because of feeling guilty?
Is she feeling guilty for sleeping with me?
It hits me like a speeding train that she may actually be. In both times, the dates were conditional on me helping her out. And, let’s not forget her gratitude to me for saving her life in the shooting. Everything added up, forcing her to sleep with me. I feel corrupt and evil, like a shameless pimp who tricks innocent girls into the dark and dirty path of lust.
I help her up and go back into the bedroom to get her a t-shirt, while she washes her face and brushes her teeth with a spare toothbrush. When she’s done with cleaning herself, she puts on the t-shirt, her face as pale as the tiles on the bathroom walls.
I hold her elbow as a support while we walk to the bed. Maybe sleeping in the guest room to give her some privacy isn’t such a bad idea. I sit on the edge of the bed and help her under the sheets.
I don’t want to bother her at this vulnerable time, but I have to get it out off my chest, or I won’t so much as blink all through the night. “Is it because of me? Do you find me repulsive?”
Her tired eyes grow large at first, then she shakes her head several times. “No, it’s not you. Of course not. How can you think that? You’re just trying to help me.”
“Confession time; actually I was just trying to get you under me.” I hesitate to smile; maybe my silly joke will send her running back to the bathroom.
“It’s not you.” She bites her lower lip, as if trying to keep herself from speaking, then opens her mouth again. “I feel like I’m cheating on Jack when I’m with you.” Her gaze escapes down to her fidgeting hands above the bed covers.
There is no point repeating how deadly dead Jack is inside his coffin and nothing of him left just bones. I wonder whether it’ll be the same every time; great sex followed by some violent puking. As much as I want her with me, I can’t make her suffer like this.
“I’ll sleep in the guest room. You rest well.” Before I can leave, though, she grabs my hand and pulls me toward her.
“Please, don’t leave me alone,” she whispers, her blue eyes clouded with pain, and something in her pained look tells me she’s not just talking about tonight.
I nod, pulling her hand to my lips, and kiss her knuckles. Rolling beside her, I rest my head on the pillow, keeping some distance between us, and pull the sheets over me. Contrary to my expectations, she moves toward me and snuggles into my chest. Being awake and having her skin to skin with me is a sure combination to get me hard no matter what kind of sad, disgusting, or fearful incident precedes it. Making sure to keep my hips away from her so as not to force her into yet another round of sex, which will most likely cause her to vomit again, I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes.
The following morning, I wake up and again Taylor isn’t in the bed next to me. I jump out of the bed, grab a pair of boxers from the top drawer, and put them on quickly, before I open the bathroom door.
The steam and the smell of shampoo coming out of the half open door tells me she had a shower just a few minutes ago. I stride toward the living room. My chest begins to tighten, when I don’t see her there. Pacing right to the kitchen, I exhale a long breath of relief as I meet her wide eyes. She gives me a quick once-over, before dropping her gaze to the cup she’s holding in her hand. A blush washes over her face, reminding me of the beautiful glow she had last night right after the sex in the movie theater.
My cock twitches inside my boxers when I realize she’s wearing nothing but the Hard-Rock-Café t-shirt I gave her last night. Her legs tightly crossed can only mean she’s hiding something between them. Maybe her bare pussy?
“I woke up an hour ago, but I couldn’t leave. I need a ride home.”
Her overtly-revealing dress and the absence of panties are working to my advantage. “I can drive you anytime you want, hopefully not too soon, though.” I smile and lean in to give her a kiss on the nose.
“I have a lunch date—” She looks up at me for my reaction and smiles. Is she expecting me to fly into a jealous rage? “With Valerie.”
Without responding, I move toward the coffee machine to pour myself a cup of coffee and settle across from her at the breakfast isle. “I’d like to take you somewhere before that.” I look at the clock on the wall. Nine-thirty. Plenty of time until noon.
“I don’t think it’s allowed to go out in the streets in just a t-shirt.”
“And without panties, I suppose,” I add and wink. She blushes some more, as if it was possible to beat that deep red that covered her face just a minute ago. “I’ve got some women’s clothes for occasions like this.”
She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say a word.
“Just kidding. They’re all Adriana’s.”
“I don’t think Adriana will want to share her clothes with me. Besides, I don’t want to wear her panties.”
I break into laughter as she watches me with a triumphant smile. “You can borrow one of my boxer briefs if you want.”
“I guess I’ll do that. Do you want your boxer briefs back washed or unwashed?”
I’m surprised that she’s messing with me like this after the violent vomiting last night. And, the thought of my boxers soaked in her juices makes my chest tighten, and my cock stiffen with need.
She drinks her coffee nonchalantly and lowers her eyes to my stiffening cock. “I guess I don’t need to hear your answer.”
I inhale deeply to pull myself together, or I
’ll have to pull her over to my lap just to show her what exactly I’d want her to do with my brief boxers. “Want to hit the shower with me before leaving?”
She shakes her head. “Maybe another time.”
I curse myself for getting up too late and losing another round of explosive sex. With the unbearable stiffness of my groin, I’d settle for a quick hand-job from her beautiful hands. I drink half of my coffee and hurry to the shower.
When I’m cleaned and dressed in a black t-shirt and khaki pants, I give Taylor one of my boxer briefs and walk her to the guest room to choose among Adriana’s clothes. I leave her alone, so she can put on the clothes she picks without me disturbing her. She comes out wearing a pink t-shirt with beige, knee-length shorts and puts on her own high heels. Before we leave the condo I notice the check I gave her yesterday lying on the table in the kitchen.
Taylor buckles up in the car, eyeing me curiously. “Where are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise.” I run the engine and focus on the road. Who knows what kind of crazy driver might cross my way. And, being Taylor, she’s the ultimate distraction for me. After an hour drive to the outskirts of the city, with only a brief stop at a flower shop on our way, I pull up and take the car key from the ignition.
“You’re taking me to a graveyard?”
“Yes.” I grab the flowers I bought on the way, climb out of the car, and open her door.
She studies the grave stones carefully as we walk pass them. “Whose grave are we visiting?”
“Just wait and see.” I keep on walking until we get to the east end of the yard. Once we arrive I blow away the dust gathered on the grave stone and kneel down to place the flowers on the grave covered with freshly cut green grass.
“Grace Linda Garnett. Beloved wife and mother of five. You’ll never be forgotten,” Taylor reads the words engraved on the stone aloud. “Your mother?”