I pull my fingers free, bringing them to my lips, tasting her. “You shouldn’t be worried, you know. You’re not the first girl the two of us have shared.” I lick them clean, watching her eyes widen. “Jamie and I? We’ve passed girls around before. Tag-teamed a few.”
She shakes her head.
I trace her cunt watching her eyes roll back. “I’m not lying. Besides if you really think that I am lying, why are you... getting wetter just thinking about it?”
“Stop,” she says, which is followed by a moan as I slide two fingers back inside and thrust. She clenches around me, her breathing heavy. “Fuck, that’s hot, princess.”
Her breath hitches, a fresh gush of wetness visible on her thighs. “Shut up.”
“My turn.” I pull my fingers and then spin her around.
She’s so easy to toss around, and it’s mere seconds before I have her bent over the bed, my hands on her hips.
Her ass is perfect, round and firm, skin still flushed pink. She braces on her elbows, towel forgotten on the floor, blonde hair tumbling wet over one shoulder. Those bruises peek from the side, taunting me.
I lower my sweats and boxers in one go, my cock springing free—hard, aching, pre-cum leaking from the tip. No condom, no waiting. I grip myself, rubbing the head along her slit, coating in her slickness. “Tell me you don’t want this. Lie to me.”
“I...” She pushes back, just a fraction, betraying her.
“That’s what I fucking thought, Chloe.” I thrust in—bare, deep—groaning at her tightness. Her pretty pink cunt swallows me whole, walls gripping like velvet. So tight, so wet, like she was made for this. For me.
“Fuck,” she moans, head dropping. “Miles...”
I set a rhythm, hard and fast, hands bruising her hips. The bed creaks, her body jolting with each snap of my hips. I reach around, finding her clit again, rubbing as I pound into her. “Does Jamie fuck you like this? Big cock and all? Or does he go easy on you?”
“He’s... ah... he bites harder,” she gasps, but it’s half-moan, pushing back to meet me.
I lean over her, nipping her shoulder—not as hard as I’d like, but enough to mark. “Like this?” My teeth graze a bruise on her back, from whatever rough play Jamie had. She clenches around me, and I laugh breathlessly. “Getting tighter. You love it. Love knowing we could both have you. Share this sweet body.”
“No... shut up,” she whimpers, but she’s soaking me, arousal dripping down her thighs.
I straighten, spanking her ass—sharp, once—watching it pink up. “Yes. Fuck, yes. You are so tight, Chloe. Hasn’t my friend stretched you out yet?”
“Oh, fuck!” she screams.
My pace quickens, balls tightening, the slap of skin echoing in the room. She’s close again, I can feel it—pussy fluttering, breaths ragged.
“Come with me,” I demand, pinching her clit lightly. She does, shattering around my cock, milking me as she cries out. It’s too much—her heat, her wetness, the way she breaks. I bury deep, coming hard, spilling inside her with a guttural groan. Pulse after pulse, filling her up until I’m spent, collapsing over her back.
We stay like that, breathing heavy, my cock softening inside her. Slowly, I pull out, watching my cum leak from her pretty pink cunt—mixed with her juices, obscene and hot. She whimpers at the loss, and I can’t help but swipe a finger through it, pushing some back in.
“Shh,” I murmur, turning her gently. She’s wrecked—hair messy, skin marked, eyes soft now. I scoop her up, laying her on the bed properly, pulling the covers over her naked body. In the bathroom, I wet a washcloth with warm water, coming back to clean her thighs, her folds, gentle as I can.
“I think you’ll need another shower, princess.”
“You’re an asshole,” she mumbles, but when I lean down to kiss her—soft, lingering—she kisses back. Fierce at first, then melting, her hand cupping my neck.
I break away, smirking. “Yeah, but you like it.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile tugging her lips. I stand, pulling up my sweats, and glance at the dresser. Drawer half-open—perfect. I rummage quick, finding a black lace thong, delicate, with a tiny cherry print on the front panel. Cute. Fitting. I pocket them, the fabric soft against my thigh.
“Hey—”
“I’ll see you around, Ashford.” I wink, heading for the door. “Sweet dreams.”
“Bye, asshole,” she calls, but there’s no venom to her words anymore.
I’m half-hard again, twitching at the memory, and for the first time in weeks, I’m... happy. Twisted, yeah, but happy. It’s adifferent kind of high. Not the kind I get from a good fight or a perfect play or even a clean drop. It’s the quiet, dangerous kind that crawls under my ribs and makes me want tokeep it.
