by Jenn Marlow
“Are you ready?” he whispered, knowing that he really didn’t need to ask. It wasn’t only that she was his slave, but also because he felt the rush of wetness between her legs and her hips as they bucked against him.
She bucked harder, pressing her pussy against him more fully, her entrance hitting perfectly at the head of his cock. She knew that her body’s response was enough for him, but she gathered just enough air to gasp out a lust-filled, “Yes.”
And with that one word, it was done.
It was happening.
It was finally fucking happening.
He squeezed her tits one more time before his hands settled on her shoulders. He gripped her tightly—very tight, and possibly too tight—as if to ensure that she wouldn’t pull away. It wasn't like he expected her to, but a part of him was still surprised when she didn’t, and he didn’t want to take any chances. He needed her.
He relished in the fact that she was silent for once.
There were no questions.
There wasn’t a single solitary hesitation or reservation within her that night.
What he saw there was neediness, just like his own. He couldn't remember a single time he'd ever felt like he needed something so much. He was always ready for a good fuck—he loved fucking—but something about this was different. He needed to feel her smooth, silky naked body. He needed to taste it some more. He needed to fuck her dripping wet pussy. He needed to fuck her.
Roland ran his hand down his stomach—between the two of them. Then, he rubbed the length of his cock, stroking it and hoping that he would soon be inside of her. He was so fucking hard that it was painful. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so painfully stiff. With his body on top of hers, he peered down to her and stroked faster when he saw the way that she looked at him. He pulsated against his touch, as he gripped his hardened cock, squeezing it.
Being on top of her caused him to forget all of the problems he had with Alex; her disruptive agonizingly annoying arguments were enough to drive him insane. But now, she was driving him insane in a completely different way. In fact, she was doing more than that. She was killing him. Only this time, she didn’t know what she was doing. This time she was killing him with her perfection, not her faults.
“Perfect,” he breathed, reiterating his thoughts. She looked at him inquisitively, but he ignored it and hoped that she would, too. Her pale breasts were flushed with pink, and he reached across to feel them again, to rub across her pointed nipples with his thumbs. “Your nipples are so fucking hard,” he said, unable to filter himself—and unconcerned because he knew the truth. And the truth was that she didn't really want him to filter himself. “You always get like this?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you pinch them?” he asked, piddling with them once again.
Alex gulped. And then she breathed. And she breathed again, heavily. Only she didn't feel like she was breathing at all. Her lungs felt pained and unable to fill with air. She felt like the only thing she could do was look at this man who was lying on top of her. So close, but still so far because his cock still wasn’t inside of her. And oh, fuck, how she wished he was. She exhaled again, the arousal almost too much to handle. She wanted him, needed him. She inhaled sharply, catching a whiff of his masculine scent; he smelled so fucking good.
“Yeah,” she responded.
“Do you like it?” He pinched them harder. “Does it do anything to your pussy?”
She moaned in response, and he leaned in and kissed the curve of her breast before taking her nipple in his mouth. He wanted to tease her, to lick and kiss her. He wasn’t sure how much more he, himself, could take. His stiff cock hurt, and he needed release, but he also wanted to do the same to her all the while making the moment last. Sex was his favorite thing; and sex with Alex was growing on him even more than that.
Her hands grabbed his head with ferocious fury, and her fingers gripped his hair and tugged. And it only encouraged him more to make this moment last. He took a mouthful of her flesh into his mouth and sucked.
Hard.
And—fuck—her taste was something that intoxicated him. He wasn’t sure if would—or could—get enough of it. It was better, sweeter, and her skin was smoother and more luscious than anything he had ever experienced before. Tasting her flesh was like combining two of his favorite things together, eating sweet desserts and sex. She tasted like candy but even better because he could taste her over and over again—whenever he wanted.
As he sucked, she cried out, eliciting the most seductive noises he had ever heard. And that was definitely saying something; Roland had definitely had his fair share of women. The realization that her taste and the sultry sound of her voice was immensely more pleasing than anything he had ever experienced scared him. It terrified him. To even remotely act as if it didn’t affect him would be a bold-faced lie. He was worried because in that moment, as he suckled fully and roughly on her hardened nipple, he felt himself growing addicted.
He had known addiction well, but he could never be addicted to a person. At least that’s what he thought. That thought was produced before Alex. Now, he was sure that it was completely possible. He sucked even harder, fueled by the worry, turning the emotion into something more productive. She squirmed beneath him. “Please fuck me!” she screamed out.
And there she was, feeding his addiction again.
She was desperate for it.
And he was desperate for her.
He reached down along the curve of her stomach, feeling a tremor move through her body. “God. Just please, Roland. Stick your cock in me!” She was frantic, but quiet as she whispered the words against his cheek. His hand continued its journey down, just a little lower between her thighs. And Jesus, if it was possible, she was even wetter than before. It covered her outer lips, and ran down three-quarters of her thigh in a couple individual trails.
“Fuck, Alex,” he rasped, not really believing it. “You're so goddamn wet. Did I make you this wet?”
He wanted to finally slip inside; it was just one small move of the hips. That was all. Just one thrust and he’d be in. He wanted to feel the heat of her pussy as it contracted around him.
“Roland,” she whimpered.
And his name sent him over the edge.
It was the need in her tone; and it was in the tone of her voice all together. He was ready, ready to be inside of her.
“Spread your legs further, Alex,” he urged, hoping just a little too much that the sound of her name affected her just as she did him.
No one had ever spoken to her like this, and she would have been lying if she said she didn’t love it. He was fulfilling so many wants and needs, and the more he spoke the more she wanted, almost to the point that it all became one big circle of lust and need and desire.
“Please,” she whimpered. “Oh, please…please.”
“You're begging me?” His voice was smooth and controlled. God, she loved it. “You like that? You want me to make you beg for it?”
She could feel his fingers spread her open and tease her clit from in between their sweaty bodies. She could imagine the way she looked, and she couldn't find a single reason to care. This was what she wanted; this was what she craved. She had gone to him, knowing that it would lead to the very moment she was experiencing.
With a small thrust of his hips, his cock found its way to her entrance, and his fingers flicked slowly over her excessively swollen clit. She smiled, feeling accomplished.
But then, he stopped.
“Roland!” she screamed in annoyance.
She wanted to grind against him, push him in somehow. It was frustrating, and she wanted it! And by God, she wanted it now! She couldn’t believe how long it was taking. But she couldn’t roll her hips, because with his free hand he held her hips against the mattress with a weighted firmness that she knew she wouldn’t be able to get free from.
“Please,” she begged again.
“Good girl,” he murmured. He
was making sure his fantasy was becoming a reality. “Now, tell me you want it.”
“Please,” she said again, exasperated.
“You're so ready, aren't you?” he asked, his smile ever-present. “You're just so fucking ready for my cock. Tell me. Do you want my fucking cock?”
And something inside Alex snapped and broke open, spewing out with a rapid urgency, just like her words. “Please, Roland. Oh, God, please! Just fuck me!”
“Fuck, yeah…that's it,” he said. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it.”
“Tell me you want me.”
“I want you, Roland,” she told him. “Please…just fuck me.”
She wasn't prepared for the thrust of his hips before she even finished her sentence. She wasn't ready for the way her body reactively bucked against him.
In that one strong, swift movement, he was inside her, and she didn’t realize how insanely good it felt. Hell, it was almost like she felt like she was going to pass out or collapse beneath him, all from the sheer pleasure.
She felt herself stretching around him and could feel her walls pulsating, as he filled her.
“God, you feel so tight… you would think I had never fucked you before; let alone have already fucked you with toys,” he mused, thrusting even faster.
“Oh,” she moaned.
“So tight …So. Fucking. Tight.”
His hips rolled against her and before she knew it, she felt the digits of his fingers begin to rub heated circles over her clit once again. She had forgotten that his hand was even between them, and just as she was about to respond vocally, he hammered his cock inside of her—and my, God, it was rough.
The way he fucked her was so animalistic, so raw, so real. Finding herself nearing the edge, she shut her eyes tightly and tears fell from them. She knew he was determined, determined to come, determined to make her come, and she could tell that his motivation was great because his thrusts were speedy, full, and deep. She screamed again and bit his shoulder, not knowing how much longer she was going to be able to last.
His thrusts drove her into the mattress with a lust-filled force. She moaned heavily, her breath becoming ragged. The friction of his fingers on her clit, his cock against her walls, it was all just driving her over the edge.
He took the flesh of her neck into his mouth and suckled while the thrusts of his cock continued to hit her g-spot violently. “Fuck! I’m coming!” she screamed, a lustful delight radiating throughout her entire body, out of her mouth, and against the walls. She was sure that if anyone was in the house, they had heard it. Hell, she was sure the neighbors even had.
He relished in the feel of her walls contracting around him, the tightness nearly driving him over the edge as well. He kept fucking her, hoping that he, too, would find release, as well as perhaps make her orgasm once again. Her toes curled more and more with every thrust. He panted harshly into her ear, as he leaned over her even further.
With one final hard thrust, he came, his white-hot cum shooting deep within her. She tightened her legs around him, wanting to remain physically close to him as he stiffened and expelled his entire load into her. She smiled, and so did he before they felt the drowsiness hit them like a two-ton brick.
Before he knew it, his eyes fluttered open, and he saw a fuzzy figure beside him. The smell of sex still lingered in the air, and he remembered what happened. They had fallen asleep together after lust-filled intense sex; and that was something that wasn’t allowed. But there they were, cuddled together like it was a fucking sleepover or a bed of marital bliss. He sighed, a touch if disappointment present in the forefront of his mind.
But while he tried to wrap his mind around it, he simply couldn't. Not because he couldn't understand that physically, it just happened. But it was because he vowed that it wouldn’t happen, not ever. But here she was, lying on her back, eyes closed and looking as beautiful as ever as she slept. He had to smile, despite the disappointment he felt in himself. He had found the most innocent-looking dirty woman he’d ever met. Hell, she was dirtiest woman he'd ever known period.
She had taken everything he'd thrown at her. And fuck, she'd always been tight, but this time she was even wetter than she ever had been. With that wetness around his cock, his life was perfect. Even if it were only for a moment—that moment, he was fine with it. Because that had been the only thing that had allowed his life to even remotely seem perfect for quite some time.
She had cried his name. Although he knew that he was arrogant, and even slightly possessive, when she screamed his name as he fucked her, something different happened. He had snapped.
It drove him crazy.
He was losing his goddamn mind.
He didn't know anything about her, but in that moment, he was so fucking pleased that he could please her. And more than that, he was pleased that she could please him. So many women before had tried and failed, even the slaves who were told what to do. Alex had fulfilled his wants and needs unlike anyone he’d ever had in bed if he was being honest.
And then Roland kissed her, long and soft and sweet. She felt herself becoming lost in it. And he didn't stop. It was unlike him not to stop. Instead, he kissed her tenderly until she broke away; and then she found herself uncharacteristically draping an arm over his firm body and snuggling close.
“You have family, then?” he asked all of a sudden. She nuzzled into his chest as he held her closely, and she wondered if this was part of his code. Was he allowed to snuggle afterwards? But just as her mind went there, he pulled away and sat at the edge of the bed, his back facing her.
“Everyone does, no?” she asked, curious as to where the conversation was leading.
“No. Not everyone…” He seemed almost sad for a moment, and just as she was about to question his mood, his attitude shifted. “But you do?” he asked, a little harsher than the first time he asked. She wondered if she had just heard a result of his guard being down for a moment; she wondered if he had meant to share that piece of information; and her more empathetic side also wondered what happened to his family.
She wasn’t sure why she cared; she didn’t know why she wanted to question him. But she did. She wanted to know. Though, she knew it was probably best to leave it to rest. The harshness in his voice did one thing; it warned her. It warned her not to come closer; she was close enough to the fortress’s wall. He didn’t want her to come inside; he didn’t want anyone to come inside. So she knew it was best to let it be.
“Yes. I have a brother,” she replied plainly and quietly, sitting up and drawing her knees to her chest. She was fine until she said the word ‘brother,’ she hadn’t really harped on it. She knew what she was doing was his best chance at proper care. She knew that the money she got from staying with Roland was what he needed to keep breathing, to keep living, to keep dreaming for a future he deserved to have. If it meant parting from him for three years, then so be it. What life could she have if he wasn’t in it? These three years be damned. If it all paid off, she could have the rest of her life with him…
She knew, though, that that was best case scenario. What if he didn’t get better? What if he died while she was with Roland? But she couldn’t afford to dwell on the uncertainties. She knew this was all for the best, and if he did pass, then she would know in her heart of hearts that she did all she could. She wouldn’t have had to live with the agonizing mental thought that she could have prevented it; that she could have done something but couldn’t afford the fucking medicine and didn’t do anything to change it. She wouldn’t have been able to live with that.
“He’s who the money is going to?” he asked, all of a sudden amused as he rose from the bed. He bent over, his perfect plump ass on glorious display to her burning gaze before standing back up and tossing on a shirt. She giggled again, Donald Ducking. He was fucking Donald Ducking again. “What’s so funny?” he asked, a twinge of annoyance in his tone.
“Donald Duck. You always do that,” she replied with a laugh.<
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He smiled before covering his cock with his hands, cupping it. “I will admit that I have never heard that before,” he replied, as he turned and headed towards his dresser. His ass bounced with enthusiasm until he stopped in front of the dark mahogany dresser.
“But, yeah, he’s who the money is going to,” she responded, the joke finally clearing from her mind, as he retrieved a clean pair of underwear from the top drawer.
“How old?” he asked, turning back to her, his gaze never meeting her. It was like he was late for something and making conversation. He was hurried, antsy even.
“Sixteen,” she replied simply. He chuckled.
“Even better. I’m sure he’s having a blast! Couldn’t have thought of a better person for it to go to?” he asked, still amused. Her head fell slightly. He didn’t know. How could he have known, though? She shook herself from the tears that threatened to fall and smiled up at him. He wasn’t the only one that could pretend.
“He’s not like that,” she assured, knowing it would rest with that, and it did. He made his way eagerly across the other side of the room to the walk-in closet. She still couldn’t believe the size of the bedroom. She swore it was bigger than her living room and kitchen combined.
“Well, all kids are like that. Hell, most people are like that. Anyways, I’ve got to run to work. Get yourself cleaned up. We’re fucking when I get home.” And with that he left.
She sighed. For a moment she forgot she was a servant of sorts. For a moment, she felt like it was a one-night stand. It was odd that she found comfort in that fantasy, but that’s all it was—a fantasy. The truth was uncomfortable, plain and simple. She made her way to the edge of the bed and gathered her scattered clothes in her arms so that she could dress.
“One phone call!” she heard from behind her. It was abrupt and caused her to leap from fear. She turned, and there he was, leaning over the threshold, one arm, grasping the doorway, holding his entire weight. “I always wanted to say that. Wanted to be a cop when I was a kid,” he finished with a smile.