by Lilly Wilde
As if we are of one mind, he does precisely what I was thinking. Without breaking our kiss, he moves me toward the bed. My fingers curve around his neck, drawing him closer and pressing his lips harder against mine. For a few seconds, he’s right there with me but then he peels my hand away and peers down at me, his breathing in a pattern similar to mine.
“Sugar, I’m going to fuck you like there’s no tomorrow. And then we’re done. We leave here with no regrets. Agreed?”
I nod.
And then Branch McGuire lays me on the bed and covers my body with his.
MY MOUTH IS ON HERS. And like earlier, the soft warmth of her lips triggers an emotion I don’t recognize. My head is out of its element but my body responds as if on autopilot. I slip my hand under her shirt and palm her breast, kneading with firm squeezes as my erection grows harder with each stroke of my tongue against hers.
My free hand moves beneath her head to draw her mouth closer and to slide my tongue deeper. There’s no hesitancy on her part—I didn’t expect there would be. She wants this as badly, if not more so, than I do. And I feel it when it happens, when she totally surrenders her body to me, when she becomes hungry for whatever piece of me I’m willing to give. Just like all the others.
But it’s my response that’s unfamiliar. I struggle with a part of my brain. The part that always has one goal in mind when I’m with a woman—to use her body however I wish to satisfy my needs. To ravage her pussy and make it crave my dick long after it’s gone.
But that part of my psyche is gradually falling to the background.
I don’t understand why.
And why with Ragan?
I ignore the sirens in my head and permit my body to do what my mind can’t comprehend. My hand trails along her curves, and with my thigh in between hers, I nudge them apart. When I reach the hotness between her legs, I massage and tease as the soft resonance of her moans fill my mouth. I never kiss the women I fuck, a fact that I’ve ignored tonight…until now. Until I break the kiss and move my lips along her cheek to the hollow of her neck, and breathe in the scent of her skin.
At her waist, I’m unbuttoning her jeans and lowering her zipper. And when I lift my body just enough, she shimmies out of the denim and her panties, then I’m back on top of her. Again falling out of character, my lips claim hers as I reposition my hand between her thighs.
Christ, she’s wet. So fucking wet.
I trace a finger up and down her slit, heightening her arousal until those cock-throbbing moans of hers swallow us both. I then part her with my fingertip, moving between her seam—slow and purposeful until she’s squirming beneath me. And not until she’s desperate for more, do I press two fingers into the hot wet of her channel.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” I ask, her pussy greedy and clenching around my fingers as I work them back and forth. I want her to want it. But not just because of a dare and not because I’m Branch McGuire.
“Yes. Yes. Please,” she replies, her words coming in breathy pants.
My fingers thrust inside the snug warmth of her tunnel, her legs open wider and her pelvis rocks into my hand. A motion that mirrors her words and pushes away every sexual guideline I’ve stuck to since high school. And unable to force them back to the surface, I drop deeper into foreign territory.
“Holy shit,” she breathes. “What are you doing? Oh God. That feels amazing.”
If you think this is amazing…with a slight twist of my hand, I curl the tips of my fingers as they move in and out, prompting her to connect harder and faster with my invasion. When I hit that spot, a soft cry escapes her lips. I continue working my fingers, moving deeper to stroke and caress the walls of her sex until vicious pulses signal her impending climax. Her hips buck in a desperate rhythm, reaching for it—but I won’t let her come. Not like this. The first time she comes, it has to be with my dick inside her as the walls of her pussy tighten and relax to milk my release.
The thought of that impending connection extinguishes the remainder of my patience. I have to know what she feels like. I retract my fingers and rear back. Intent on filling her snug little tunnel with my cock, I spread her legs wider and the carnal aroma of her lust penetrates a part of me that’s been long hidden. As if on instinct, I move down between her legs and breathe her in.
Fuck, she smells good. There’s nothing like the sweet musky aroma of a wet pussy.
My mouth waters and then on a deeper inhale, I sweep my tongue between her lips, and damn if she doesn’t taste like heaven. That one lick starts a frenzy of need…and a voracious hunger for her saccharine juices takes over.
My fingers move to spread her open and I dip deeper into the ocean between her legs, my tongue lapping to sate an unquenchable thirst.
Shit. I shouldn’t be doing this. I summon the reserves of will power that demand I stop but the saline, honeyed fusion of her essence is an undeniable pleasure—one that elicits other long forgotten urges. Urges that won’t allow me to stop.
My tongue snakes further into that sweet little hole that will soon be filled with something much larger. And unable to resist the tangy sweetness, I devour her—licking, sucking, fingering and tonguing as she clamps her thighs around my head.
She lets out a soft whimper and pushes into my mouth. Then my name is on her lips as she thrusts hard and fast against my tongue, the intensity of her lunges telling me she’s almost there. And as much as I’d love the flow of her sweet nectar flooding my mouth, I’d much prefer my dick nestled inside the warmth of her pussy.
“Branch, oh…my…g—” Her words are lost when I position my tongue flat on her slit.
A slow lick up and then down, a soft flick back and forth and then she’s writhing on my face, her climax again at its summit. She threads her fingers through my hair, her hands gripping the back of my head, her words a mix of soft whimpers and broken moans.
With noticeable reluctance, I abandon her pussy long enough for the seconds it takes to slip on the condom and then I watch her. She shudders as her orgasm makes a second attempt to stake its claim. I slide the pads of two fingers down her slit, preparing her for my entrance—another sign that I’m off my game. Yeah, the chick is usually primed and ready by the time I’m inside her, but I never give any thought to being sure that she is.
Ragan’s legs fall apart, inviting me to do what we’d been dared. But this is no longer a game for me. This is something I want. I position myself between her thighs and slide the tip of my cock inside her. I pull out and in the next second, I push back in…but this time I go deeper.
Holy fucking shit. It’s so hot. And so. fucking. good.
I look down at her, her lips are spread and her eyes are on my face.
I withdraw a third time, wanting to prolong this, but I already know there’s no fucking way that will happen. I drive my length to the end of her and she lets out a gasp.
I need to take it slower.
Moving at this pace is fucking killing me but I force myself to ease her into it, rotating my hips, massaging the walls of her sex, allowing her to adjust to my girth with each move, and finally when she’s stretched around me, I push all the way in, my pelvis flush with hers.
Her exhale is unsteady as she breathes through my plunges, her hands gripping my arms and pulling me to her chest.
“Damn,” I whisper, my mouth skirts along her jaw as I start to move as deep as her pussy will allow. I didn’t expect her cunt to clench so tightly around my cock, not like this. It’s enough to make me lose my load right now. I pull out to the tip and groan as I press back in. Two more thrusts and I’m convinced this is where I belong—buried inside her.
“Ragan.” I can’t say more, the unfamiliar friction of our bodies writhing like savages has taken my words. I grind my hips against hers, rooting my cock even further inside a pussy I don’t want to withdraw from.
How the fuck can she feel this good?
Hell, I don’t want to stop. I can go all night with Ragan and still want mor
e—which is fucking mind-blowing because I’ve never felt that way about any other woman. Her pussy is that good. And there’s a sweetness about her, a vulnerability that fuels the adrenaline rushing through my body.
With my forehead pressed against hers, I pick up the pace, each plunge hitting the depth of her.
“Oh, shit. Right there,” she pants. “Oh fuck…don’t stop. Please.”
But I do stop. “I want you completely naked. Take everything off,” I whisper.
“Why?” Her voice is a breathy gasp.
“Because I said so.” Why the fuck is she questioning me now of all times?
She hesitates, and I get that she’s apprehensive about her body. I sensed that when I touched her on the field. But I want to see and touch every part of her. “Do it, Ragan.”
I rear back when she reaches for the tail of her shirt and lifts it over her head, her breathing still labored as she removes her bra and slings it on the bed beside us. She reclines with her arms covering the parts she doesn’t wish for me to see, but that’s the opposite of what I want. I position her hands above her head and meet her eyes. I see the uncertainty. I see the insecurity. And when my gaze moves over her body, I see the beauty I know she’s unaware of.
Her breasts, although heavy with yearning, are perky and tight—the precise size to fit within the grasp of my palm. And sitting at the crown of each, are nipples plump with lust. Her stomach—the area she’s most self-conscious about—isn’t toned, but it blends perfectly with the thickness of her thighs and the curve of her hips. My eyes trace upwards, focused on the outline that shapes her body into a perfect hourglass and my erection stiffens inside her.
I trail my hands along her legs, over her thighs, past her stomach and then grasp her tits. “I’m going to show you what your body is made for.” I dip down and trace my tongue over each nipple as my dick moves in and out of her snug little channel.
“Ahh,” she breathes.
“Feel good?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Her breath hitches as the tips of her breasts harden.
“Oh, sugar. It gets better.” I draw a nipple into my mouth, my teeth grazing the tight pebble as I start to suck. My lips are splayed over the swollen bead as I pull—the suction tight so that it elicits both pain and pleasure. When I deliver the same treatment to her other breast, her pants become louder, filling the room as she forgoes her insecurities and arches into my mouth.
I release her breast with a pop and go for the other while I squeeze, twist and pull the tip of the one I abandoned.
“Kiss me,” she whispers. “Please kiss me.”
I nip her bottom lip, our breaths mingled as I wrestle with indecision. Her sexy little noises hover between us, hardening my cock into stone, then my mouth is smothering hers, our lips moving, teeth clashing and tongues dueling as the kiss deepens. Her nails are at my back, scoring my skin and my hands trail down her body, my fingers digging into her thighs as I race toward my release, feeling hers chasing closely behind.
She feels fucking incredible. I want to draw this out. Dammit, I need to, but I can’t stop.
I go harder.
And deeper.
Knowing it will push me to the point I’m trying to steer away from.
“Ahh, yes. Branch. Right there,” she whimpers, her hands on my skin, her pussy clenching…tighter.
She bucks and writhes beneath me. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
“I don’t plan on it,” I murmur, as my hips grind viciously against hers.
Her breathy moans pull at my release and I whisper against her ear. “You feel so good wrapped around me.”
Her body becomes rigid and I whisper more, “My dick feels so good nestled inside you. I intend to fuck you until you’re too sore to walk.”
And she whispers back, her words searing my skin, “You’re stretching me and it hurts…but it feels so good.”
My dick throbs for a release as I move deeper inside her. Her hands trail down my back, cupping my ass and squeezing.
“Oh fuck, your cock is so…ahh…good.”
Her words quicken my pace. I ram into her with a rapid aggression that moves the headboard to a rhythm of its own, knocking against the wall as she bites into my shoulder.
When the need to come pulls on me again, I take her slower. I swivel my hips and rotate my cock inside her, and then fuck if she doesn’t squeeze me, the walls of her sex grip me so tight I nearly come undone.
“Sugar, you’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.”
“Isn’t that the point?” she breathes.
“Eventually,” I whisper with a grunt and push back into her, slow and deep. “But not now.”
“I told you my pussy was good,” she says and her hips rock up, rotating her cunt on the ridge of my cock when I pull out.
“Shit,” I groan, hovering over the brink of my climax. I move the crown of my dick up and down her seam before pushing into her again and exhale a breath. When my cock is once again perfectly cocooned in the tight warmth of her cunt, I know there’s no way I’ll stop fucking her. No fucking way.
“Shit, Ragan. You feel so goddamn good.” My hips buck into hers, and establish a steady rhythm. And it’s too good. I can’t hold it. I tell myself to pull out or at least slow down, but that shit ain’t happening. A low groan forms in my chest as my restraint evaporates.
“I want you to come with me. Think you can do that?”
“I’m already there. Fuck, I’m already there,” she pants, her words muffled by the hitch in her throat.
I want to look down at her, but my own release seizes me, then I’m throwing my head back, pouring into her with a series of fierce grunts, then held captive to an orgasm that has no end—it’s the longest and hardest I’ve come in my entire fucking life.
After a short intermission, I’ve flipped her over, pulled her to her knees and I’m pounding her doggy style, my thighs slapping against her delightfully round ass as she begs me not to stop. She needn’t worry about that because I don’t intend to. Her cries become louder, her words more erotic, and my dick harder. I know everyone in the place hears her with one hundred percent clarity but that does nothing to deter me. I plan to fuck her until the sun rises.
Some hours later, I reach around and rub her clit as my dick slams into her, our final orgasms erupting in tandem. Mine with a low growl and hers with an elongated cry.
Undeniably spent, I collapse on top of her, my weight on her body as we fight to catch our breath. I don’t let her go. And I don’t turn away from the kiss she asks for.
I don’t do this type of shit.
Something isn’t right, and I still can’t figure out what the hell it is.
I wasn’t rough with her.
At least not as rough as I could have been.
I was attentive, almost tender…something I didn’t think I was capable of being to any woman. Except Madison…and that was a time in my past I left in the past. I could possibly deal with all of the odd shit I’d done with Ragan, but to go down on her? What the hell was that? Before last night, I was pretty fucking positive that it’d be a cold day in hell before my tongue felt the inside of any pussy. Obviously I was wrong as shit about that. And what makes it worse, she hadn’t asked for it. I’d wanted it. Fuck, I had to practically negotiate with myself to stop.
And now, mere minutes after it’s all over I’m lying beside her, missing the feel of her pussy clenched around me. And to top it all off, I’m fucking snuggling. For a guy who never does any of this shit with any chick, I’m batting a thousand with Ragan.
What the fuck?
With the light of morning it’s as though we don’t know what to say. And the side of me that usually wants to push a woman out the door doesn’t surface. I want Ragan to hang around. I look over at her and deny the impulse to pull her close, to stroke her hair, to kiss her.
I see the awkward smile on her face and realize she’s uncomfortable. And fuck if I don’t feel the same. A reminder that we
need to stick to our agreement. One night. No regrets. Move on.
“You good?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She grimaces. “Extremely sore but otherwise I’m okay.”
She looks as if she wants to say more but doesn’t.
“Something wrong?” I ask as I move to pull on my jeans.
“I’m a little surprised I guess.”
“About what?”
“You.” She sits up in bed, resting on her elbows.
“What about me?”
“I knew it would be amazingly hot. And it was. Like this incredible sheet-grasping, hair-pulling experience. But it was more than that actually. You were both what I expected and what I didn’t expect at the same time.”
“And how did you expect me to be?”
“I don’t know. You’re very…” she starts and then fades off again as if she’s searching for the right words. “I guess I thought it would be like some rough porno night…but it wasn’t.”
My brow arches. “Is that what you wanted?”
“To be honest, I think that’s what I was looking for. Until you touched me, then it all changed.”
Yeah, it all changed for me too, but it shouldn’t have.
“Maybe now, I understand why women like Skye aren’t too proud to beg.”
“Whoa.” I hold up my palms in defense. “Wait a minute, Ragan. Last night…what happened between us…that’s not…that wasn’t the norm.”
“So you have a list of services?” she asks playfully, a side of her I don’t typically see. “Which one did I get?”
“It’s not like that. There’s no list. I’m gonna be dead honest here. I don’t know what the fuck happened last night. The version of me you expected is the version all women get.”
“Oh,” she says. “I don’t get it. May I ask—”
“I don’t do questions.”
“What about answers? Do you do those?” she asks, an edge to her voice.
I slip my shirt over my head. “Nope.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little—”
“We agreed to fuck and that’s it. We’re done here, Ragan.”