by JC Szot
“I have to be inside you…like, now.” He demanded with an impatient growl. “I want to take it slow. I’m not just fucking you now, Meg. I’m making love to you.” He sighed. “I wanna have you while your taste is still on my tongue.” He lifted her. Her legs wrapped around him like sea tentacles, their flesh slick with sweat. He rubbed his cock against her. It was solid and pulsating with life. She licked her fingers, running them over the smooth, silky head. His lips parted, fighting for more air. He transported them into the kitchen.
Zane rested her ass on the edge of the table, the wood cool on her flaming skin. Heat spewed from her body, a burning she’d never felt.
“Touch me again,” he moaned. “Fuck,” he pleaded. Meg cupped his balls, lightly scraping her nails over his smooth sac. “Yeah, Meg, that’s it.” His lips meshed with hers, his tongue coating her mouth with his moisture. His sugared taste from the fig soaked into her tongue, taunting her for more. His lips scored down her neck and shoulder, finding her breast. Zane latched on, sucking, lightly biting her nipple. She shuddered as he steered his cock toward her opening, sliding it up and down her wet pussy. Her blood was scalding, her nerves running at full throttle.
“Do it!” she huffed, unable to wait. He slid inside her, pushing her apart, gliding against her wet walls. She clenched around him, his moan of approval ringing in her ears like a symphony. His words tunneled into her ears, making her quiver.
“Damn it, Meg.” His words trailed off then sounded again, gusting in her ear like a warm, summer breeze. “You’re so beautiful, so perfect, and so good.” His hips knocked against hers. They connected, mating with a frenzy of passion and love that had been buried but now had been granted life. Something surged through her—a peace, a sense of completeness. Her body went stiff, her orgasm hovering, igniting through her. The muscles in her belly jumped. Her clit was humming with every thrust of Zane’s cock. He fit her, branding her all his, an internal tattoo. Her nails dug and scraped into his hard biceps. Zane’s muscles flexed and rippled under his skin as he slowly took her to new, unexplored heights.
A shiver of delight prickled her skin when his hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them to the sweet rhythm of their grinding hips. Her tailbone burned into the wooden edge of the table. The pleasure and pain blended together, a delicious cocktail, and it was all hers to savor. His stormy eyes held hers. His lips eased into a sensual grin. He threaded his fingers through her hair.
“I love you.” Her hands held his face. Their shadows moved on the wall.
“I love you, especially when you’re needy and shameless.” He pulled her into him, her breasts pressed into his chest. He stretched her more, moving yet deeper. His hands tightened, digging into her hips. His body trembled into hers. Her climax fired as soon as she felt his warmth bathe her pussy. His cock pulsated, tickling her insides. Their bodies went taut, their limbs tight. Zane’s cock burrowed into her, his internal presence scalding. Meg lowered her back down on the table, her legs gripping his hips.
“Damn,” he moaned, grunting through his release. “You’re gonna kill me.” He laughed. Meg shook her head, blinking back the tears. She squeezed him tight.
“Never,” she whispered, her voice raw, lost to the feeling. “You’re mine now.” Zane supported her back, slowly aligning her body with his. His hand gently cupped the back of her head, their hearts firing together.
“I had some dark days, Meg, but you certainly know how to brighten a guy’s night.” He sucked on her neck. His cock slipped from the heated depths of her body. “You fixed my clock, too, didn’t you.” Zane smiled lazily. She nodded.
“You’re in full-blown remission. All clocks are up and running. The dark days are gone. From here on out there is no darkness, only light.”
THE END
www.jc-hotreads.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JC Szot was born in Morristown, New Jersey and grew up in the quiet town of Long Valley, New Jersey. She now lives in Upper Mount Bethel, Pennsylvania with her husband, Mike, who understands her obsession with storytelling. JC has tried to escape her imagination for years. Giving in was the best move she ever made.
Also by JC Szot
Ménage and More: The South Window
Siren Classic: Open Spaces
Available at
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Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com