by Lacy Danes
It wasn’t easy taking him like this—he was a big man and her inner muscles struggled to accept his width as he pressed inexorably inward—but it was also arousing as hell. Feeling his cock drive deep, having him pull her hips back into his on the grinding descent; hearing his orders to take him, to fuck him, moaned hoarsely in her ear as his fingers dug into her thighs, giving her no choice but to do as he ordered, to pleasure him as he needed. It was her wildest fantasy, having him use her like she was there for his pleasure only. And it was now coming true.
She pushed back, taking another inch, his curse flowing above her just so much sweet music because she knew she’d drawn it from him against his will. Just as she knew the next thrust wasn’t as controlled as the first. Yes, yes, yes! With every hard thrust she opened wider, took him deeper.
She braced her arms on the bed, pushing back further. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She wanted him to pound that thick cock into her, ride her until he couldn’t hold it anymore. She wanted him to claim her, to make her his in a totally primitive way that went far deeper than any woman would consider politically correct. She wanted him to fuck her without finesse, without control. Just him and her and the need she inspired in him. She wiggled her hips. A smart sting on her right cheek halted the movement. “Stay still and take it.”
Oh God! She bit her lip as the sting melded with the heat burning her from the inside out, feeding it. How had he known? In her dreams he said things like that to her, did things like this to her, but she’d never told him, never written it down. How had he known this part of her fantasy she’d never dared to confess?
His cock continued to plunder her pussy, pushing solidly in, catching on sensitive nerve endings as her muscles parted to accommodate his width, dragging and stretching her flesh as he withdrew, every stroke, every heated inch destroying the control she prided herself on. The control she didn’t want in bed. Her clit ached and pulsed, needing his touch, her touch, anything. All it would take was the barest stimulation there and she’d go hurtling over the precipice she could sense him approaching.
He didn’t give it to her. Just kept filling her with his cock, feeding her need, her desire, building it until she wanted it to go on forever yet she didn’t think she could bear it if it did. Continuing until she couldn’t think of anything beyond the fact that she was his, and she loved him so.
With a thrust so deep it pierced her soul Marc came, grinding his hips so deeply into hers, his zipper cut into the flesh of her buttocks. She pushed back, begging for more. Becky could feel his cock pulse that brief second before it jerked, tapping against her G-spot, filling her with his hot come, giving her some of what she wanted but not enough. Not enough to come. She clawed at the comforter and clenched again. His dark laugh let her know he knew what she was doing. What he was doing to her.
“You want more?”
She shuddered and admitted the glorious truth. “Yes.”
His big hand worked between them, cupping her pussy. “Greedy thing.”
She had no defense. She was greedy. She wanted more. Everything he could give her.
His cock jerked within her, touching that spot. His fingers snapped against the pad of her pussy, sharp and hard. She stiffened in shock as wild sensation burned up into her womb. Before she could sort it out, he was doing it again, harder, stronger. Delight cut through shock, a mixture of sweet pain and searing pleasure, too strong to deny, too overwhelming to sort out. Too fucking fantastic to resist.
“Come for me.”
Low, deep and intent, the order didn’t leave her any choice. On the next slap she did, bucking and arching her hips for more of whatever he wanted to give her, open to the pleasure, the pain or a combination of the two. Just open…
He was holding her, his arms wrapped around her while his big body covered her. With every breath she took, she absorbed his scent, hers, theirs.
His cock flexed within her. They were still joined. Becky opened her hands on the mattress, bracing herself—for what, she didn’t know, just whatever was going to happen to destroy this moment.
His lips skimmed her temple, her cheek, soft gentle caresses that melted into her soul.
“Can you feel my seed in you?” he asked, pulling his still-hard cock almost all the way out before sliding back in, his voice as quiet and as deep as the night around them.
“Yes.”
“It makes you hot, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
The order wasn’t unexpected. The surge of lust at hearing it, at contemplating obeying it, was. She dug her nails into the sheet, holding on as the quiver shook her from head to toe. Her voice, when she found it, was husky and raw, as if all the screams she’d suppressed over the years had left their mark. “When you fill me with your seed, it makes me crazy.”
He stroked her again, slow and lazy. “How crazy?”
“I can’t get enough of it,” she admitted breathlessly. “Of you.”
She surged back, almost there, but he stepped away.
She was suddenly, devastatingly empty. She groaned a protest.
A brush of flesh on flesh, and then there was only the lingering warmth of his seed inside her, keeping her achingly aroused. She knew she’d stay that way until she could no longer feel his essence.
“Take off your clothes,” he instructed quietly. “And then climb into bed and close your eyes.”
A light slap on her rear had her hurrying to comply. The sheets were chilly. She lay there on her back, shivering with cold and anticipation until the heat from the fire seeped through and then it was just anticipation shaking her from head to toe.
It took her a minute to realize Marc had left the room. With her eyes closed, every other sense seemed to magnify, especially her sense of hearing. She could hear him in the bathroom washing up, track his move to the living room, and then back. He stopped just inside the bedroom door.
She pushed the covers down, the smooth cotton gliding sensuously across her stomach and thighs. The catch of his breath was audible. She smiled, drew up her knee and arched her back, giving him a view of everything that was his.
“Still playing with fire, sweetheart?”
“Mmm.” She spread her legs wide, imagining how she looked to him, wanton and eager. His shirt dropped to the floor in a soft rustle. His wallet hit the bureau with a heavy thud. The change in the pocket of his jeans jingled as they slid down his legs. The mattress dipped under his weight.
It dipped again as he moved closer. His arm brushed her shoulder. The heat of his body covered her as light as a touch. His scent enveloped her in a familiar hug.
She sensed his lips before she felt them pressing against hers. His whispered, “I love you,” wove around her in a protective spell. She whispered it back, letting the vow follow her breath into his mouth, envisioning it blending with his until the two were hopelessly intertwined. His hand curved around her head in a gentle vise, holding her still for his kiss. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him still for hers.
Marc separated his mouth a scant inch from hers. “Don’t open your eyes.”
“Okay.”
His finger traced her lip. “No matter what.”
Anticipation nudged her pulse up a notch. “No matter what.”
His fingers fanned over the side of her face. He eased her lower lip away from her teeth with his thumb. “I like your mouth.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she settled for a “Thank you.”
“I want it on me.”
She touched the fleshy pad of his thumb with her tongue. “Now?”
“Yeah. Now.”
When she would have slid down his body, he tightened his grip on her head. “Turn around first.”
The covers wrapped around her as she shifted, then were tugged away, leaving her with only smooth cotton and smooth skin to guide her. She fumbled a little without the use of sight, relying on his hand for guidance. The tendons in her inner thighs
strained as she straddled his chest. He was a big man all over. Built strong, inside and out. Solid. Someone she could depend on always. She kissed her way down his stomach, going with the rise and fall of his abs, counting the ridges. One, two, three.
Her lips dipped into the well of his navel, explored and then moved below, following the thin line of hair beneath. His hand tangled in her hair. Ignoring the silent demand she worked lower, not stopping until she found the soft sac of his balls. It came as naturally as breathing to kiss them. His breath hissed in only to be released immediately, sighing, “That’s good.”
Marc widened his thighs. She nuzzled them gently, sucking softly on the delicate flesh, before kissing them again. Against her cheek, his cock stirred. Because she loved to feel him quicken with life, she snuggled his semisoft penis against her tongue, cherishing this brief time when she could hold him in his entirety.
With a tug on her thigh, he drew her across his torso until she was covering him like a living blanket. That was fine with her. Having him like this, relaxed beneath her while the echoes of their previous pleasure wrapped them in an intimate cocoon was a pleasure unto itself. She scooted back as his cock grew too big to hold in her mouth, letting her lips slide up his length until only the mushroom-shaped head rested inside the taut circle. She twirled her tongue around the firm tip, compressing with her lips before sucking lightly, the spike of his hips a hot incentive to do it again.
He moaned and shoved the blankets clear. The hand on her head pushed down even as he pushed his hips up. Becky took what she could, giving him as much as she could, wanting to please him this way, too. A bead of pre-come spilled into her mouth, salty, spiced with that flavor that was uniquely Marc, seeping into her desire in a lazy intoxicating wave that gathered momentum as another deep, masculine moan flowed into the darkness around her.
God! She loved the taste of him. The feel. She grasped the base of his shaft in her hand, angling him back. She kept up a lazy rhythm, her senses focusing on the moment and everything surrounding it: the heat of his cock, the throb of his pulse, the stretch in her thighs, the ache in her core, the weight of his palm. In her pussy, she still felt the hot weight of his seed like a loving promise yet to be fulfilled.
Beneath her, Marc shifted. His chest muscles rippled along the inside of her thighs as he reached for something. In her hypersensitive state, she could feel every ridge of muscle, every expansion of breath.
“Are your eyes closed?”
His voice was husky. Deep. Intent. On nothing more than the nuances contained in the question, her womb clenched. She slid her mouth free of his cock. “Yes.”
“Keep them that way.”
The order didn’t require a response. She gave it to him anyway in a slow breath that wafted across the head of his cock in a whispery tease. The hard shaft jerked in her grip. She followed the airy caress with her tongue, flattening it across the broad head, holding it there, holding him there for a heartbeat before wiggling her tongue in the tiny slit at the center, then doing it again when his big body jerked in response, fucking it in tiny pulses that had his breath hissing in between his teeth. Oh yes, she liked him like this.
She laughed, taking him deep, letting him share in the reverberations of her pleasure. He pushed high with his hips, getting her to take a fraction more, reestablishing the power between them, reinforcing who would give and who would take. While she struggled to accept his cock, something cool and smooth pressed against her anus.
“Umph?”
The answer to her incoherent question was an increase in pressure against the tight ring of her ass. She froze. He had been in the toy box. Her ass twitched in apprehension while her pussy wept with need. She pushed up on her arms. The move pressed her harder against the would-be intruder. “Stay still.”
It was a no-nonsense order followed by a no-nonsense push against her butt. Whatever he had chosen felt huge. She remembered some of the toys they had selected. They were huge. Her muscles tensed in an agony of indecision. He pushed the fake penis against her butt again. She moved forward to his balls to postpone the inevitable penetration. She made an involuntary move to close her legs, but only succeeded in clamping her thighs around his ribs. His chest hair abraded her clit, making her gasp and twist.
He laughed, a low, husky, distracted sound. His palm cupped her rear holding her to the pleasurable friction while with unrelenting pressure against her anus he forced her body’s acceptance. “Relax, Becky.”
She tried, but it wasn’t easy. He didn’t desist.
“You can take this. Just relax and push back.”
He didn’t give her any choice. Untried muscles gave up on the unequal battle. She panted through the foreign sensation, a combination of pleasure and pain.
More pressure, this time at the back of her head, keeping her mouth full of his cock as he slowly breached her ass with the thick toy.
She breathed through her nose, struggling to relax, torn between wanting him to stop and needing the dark consummation to continue. The slow penetration finally stopped. The rough calluses of his fingers grazed the hypersensitive skin of her rear as he asked, “Okay?”
She took a breath, stilling the panic to try to find an answer. The dildo stretched her past comfortable but not fully into pain, creating contrary signals that her desire absorbed and translated into something darker, something deeper, something intriguingly different. She nodded yes.
“Good. Now, I want you to use your mouth and show me how you want to be loved.”
He was allowing her some control, letting her set the pace for her seduction. She was intrigued. Tempted and intrigued. Indecision held her immobile for a timeless, breathless second. She felt too…stretched for anything vigorous.
With the slightest of hesitations, she took just the tip of his penis into her mouth. He throbbed against the inside of her lips. She eased her head gently up and down. The dildo moved with the same shallow motion, forcing her tight muscles wider and the burn higher, the joy higher still.
She could handle that, she decided, repeating the move. It still wasn’t exactly pleasurable. There were too many conflicting emotions inside for her to sort out the pleasure from the other, newer sensations, but she could sense it waiting, just beyond her grasp. She forgot to caress his cock, and he stopped.
Darn. She squeezed her eyes tighter and resumed her movements.
“You want it like that for a while?” he asked.
Feeling vulnerable and exposed, she nodded her head.
“Okay. Rest your cheek on my hip and we’ll try this for a while.”
At first, she couldn’t relax, but the steady massage of the penetration soon eased the tension from her muscles. The motion became smoother and easier as she relaxed into the play. She loved the feeling of being penetrated almost more than she loved to come, and the sensation was even more intense, more satisfying this way. And now, with Marc’s permission, she was able to fully focus on the stroke of the toy over her most sensitive nerves, to wallow for as long as she wanted in the pure bliss. She lifted her hips facilitating the easy rhythm.
Her ass began to throb and twitch, and the easy screwing became more irritating than satisfying. Rooting with her lips, she found his cock and engulfed him in one deep swallow. The dildo echoed her efficiency.
Her satisfied groan danced down his shaft.
It felt good. So damn good.
She took him again, deeply. Her ass relished the same treatment. Marc caught the rhythm, slow and deep, hovering on the retreat before plunging back in to linger on the push. Unlike a cock, the dildo didn’t get too excited and put an end to the sensation. She was free to enjoy it as long as she could, letting the burn become an ache that sharpened to a high-pitched need that spread outward, building in a wave. She yanked her mouth off his cock, sinking her teeth into his thigh, biting down as she took more, her ass clenching down hard, holding tight….
She felt his laugh more than heard it. “Feels that good, huh?”
&
nbsp; Again, all she could do was nod.
“Imagine how good it’s going to feel when it’s my cock instead of a toy.”
She closed her eyes, imagining it, wanting it. “Oh yes.”
She shifted up and caught the tip of his penis in her mouth. Just the tip. She closed her lips tightly around it and slid it in and out, flirting with the idea of penetration, making him relive over and over the thrill of possession.
“Oh God,” she moaned as he forced her ass open again and again with the same piercing motion. “Don’t stop. Please.”
“I wasn’t planning on it.” Desire roughened his voice to a hoarse parody of his low drawl and any doubt she had that he was enjoying this as much as her died a quick death. “But I think it’s time to change things up.”
His cock slid impossibly deep, hitting the back of her throat, holding there while she struggled not to gag. The dildo plumbed her ass with the same erotic efficiency over and over again, taking her higher but not giving her that extra something she needed to relieve the screaming demand ripping along her nerve endings. The hot, burning need to come. She twisted in his grip, sucking his cock harder, taking it deeper, faster, needing him to come so she could.
“Son of a bitch.” Hard hands fastened on her shoulders, pulling her up with the same wildness beating inside her. “Come up here.”
She did, kissing her way frantically up his chest, nibbling on his flat brown nipples, savoring the jerk of his chest until he pulled her away.
“Tease,” Marc murmured without heat, flipping her onto her back.
She rested her palms on his shoulders, sinking her nails into the thick pad of muscle, anchoring the wildness inside. “Can I open my eyes now?”
“Yes.”
His big hands slid down the back of her thighs. He lifted first one and then the other over his arms with deliberate slowness, walking his hands up the side of her torso with that same determination until he had her wide open and exposed.
She didn’t understand when Marc reached between them, holding her gaze with his until, with a twist, her ass came alive with powerful pulsing throbs. Her eyes flew wide. The dildo was also a vibrator.