My fingers work the button and zipper of her jeans before yanking them down far enough to dip a finger inside of her. “So wet,” I murmur against her breast.
“Nix,” she moans, riding my finger and grinding her clit into the fleshy part of my palm.
My teeth bite down, grazing her swollen nipple in a back and forth motion as I draw it into my mouth. Everything else around us, everything that we are falls away, and we’re only left with the animalistic desire that’s coursing through us.
“Come for me, Kennedy. I want to feel your greedy cunt milk my fingers.”
Her fingers curl in my hair, raising my scalp just enough to cause a pleasurable sting that goes straight to my aching dick. I ignore the urge to bend her over the round table that’s behind me and fuck her senseless. There’s time for that. I plan to fuck her until she’s limp and every muscle in her body can’t even support her body weight anymore.
Lifting my head when her breathing falters and her pussy clamps down, convulsing against my finger, I cover her mouth with my lips and devour her moans of ecstasy. Kennedy like this, uninhibited and passionate, is the sexiest woman I’ve ever been with. My cock’s pushing against my jeans, straining to be buried deep inside her, and I can’t stop the growl crawling up my throat when her hand slides down my front and grabs my shaft with force.
“Fuck me, Nix,” she whispers against my lips, breathless and still needy.
Within seconds, I have her facing the other way and her pants down around her ankles before I unfasten my jeans, letting the beast free. In my hunger, I don’t run it through her wetness but push inside in one hard thrust, burying myself until my balls slap her clit. She lurches forward with the table from the impact. I place a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in place for what’s about to happen, and pull her body back.
I grunt with each thrust—the next more brutal than the last—pulling her backward and punching into her with such force that she starts to mumble something that sounds like she’s possessed. Nothing makes sense, just gibberish coming out of her mouth, and her eyes roll back when she slaps her hands down on the edges of the table, and she braces herself.
Keeping a hand on her shoulder, I slide the other down her side, and my fingers dig into her hip. Needing more, not wanting either of us to come yet, I raise my hand and bring it down on the fleshy part of her thigh, causing her to cry out from the impact.
She pushes backward, fucking me with her greedy cunt. Meeting my blows in perfect rhythm, trying to regain control. But I won’t let her. I slap her hip again. Harder this time, causing her to buck against me. She turns her face, her eyes piercing into me, angry and dark. But it doesn’t stop me. Pressing my hand on the middle of her back between her shoulder blades, I push her chest against the tabletop, trapping her from moving again.
“You love my cock. Don’t you, Kennedy?”
Her face is smashed into the wood and her eyes are sealed shut, her hands still firmly curled around the edges of the table. “Not. As. Much. As. You. Love. My. Pussy,” she grunts out, each word stunted by my thrusts.
Leaning forward, I cover her back with my front and sink my teeth into the tense, corded muscle of her shoulder where it meets her neck. But I don’t bite down hard enough to hurt her, just with enough pressure to cause her core to clamp down around my cock and her body to shiver with the impending climax.
I’m close. I want it. I feel the orgasm building. My balls grow heavy, pulling toward my body as my spine starts to tingle and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Beg me to come,” I tell her, whispering in her ear through gritted teeth. “Ask for it.”
“Nix,” she says, but I’m not sure if it’s a warning or a plea.
I pull out, leaving just the tip of my cock inside, and suck her earlobe into my mouth, placing it between my teeth. “Beg. For. It.”
“Nix, please. I need to come,” Kennedy says in the greediest tone as her walls try to pull me back in.
“Good girl,” I growl, straightening my back, and I batter her with my dick. “Fuck,” I grunt, loving the feel of her pussy squeezing my shaft.
My thighs are burning, but I don’t let it stop me. I even my pace—hard and fast—pulling all the way out before slamming back into her. My fingers dig into her shoulder and back, needing to ground myself for the orgasm that’s about to rip through me.
Before I can stop it, it unleashes. My thighs that once burned now seize, unable to move from the tremors that course through me, shooting out from my cock like lightning, causing every part of my body to prickle.
I’m so lost in my orgasm that I barely hear her cry out, “I’m coming!”
I can’t breathe. I can’t control the movement, my body still striking hers from behind. My eyes close, tiny sparks of light exploding behind my lids, and I become light-headed.
When Kennedy’s body goes limp under my hands, I collapse forward and try to catch my breath. Her knuckles are white and her fingers are still holding on to the table as she sucks in air with her eyes closed.
I don’t want to admit it, but I’ve never come with anyone the way I do with her. There’s so much pent-up energy and anger between us that I become unhinged, resulting in the most mind-blowing orgasms. Kennedy does that to me. She makes me crazy. Makes me a different person. One who’s not as careful. A man who doesn’t care because I have an insatiable appetite to be inside her and taste her on my tongue that nothing else but doing it quenches the thirst.
As my legs begin to regain strength and my head’s back in the game, I pull my cock out and kick off my pants as I back away from her. “Fuck,” I groan, running my hands through my hair.I’m fucked. Yep. Completely fucked and not like I just was either.
She turns her face to me. “What’s wrong?” She keeps her body plastered against the tabletop that I bought as the centerpiece of the foyer but never found a use for before tonight.
Stalking toward the kitchen, unable to stare at her naked and spread out with the flush on her cheeks, I grab a bottle of whiskey off the counter and chug a quarter of the bottle.
She walks in naked with her skin glistening in the harsher light of the kitchen. “Nix, talk to me,” she says and approaches me cautiously.
My eyes are trained on her, studying her face and trying to read her eyes. This woman gets under my skin, and it’s not a feeling I’m used to or that sits right with me. Wiping my lips with the back of my hand, I set the bottle on the counter and wrap a hand around her arm. “We can’t do this anymore.” I don’t see any other way around it. I can’t be with her. She makes me lose my shit, and I’m known for keeping my shit tight.
