She grips me like she was made for me, like she needs my cum to live, and fuck if I don’t want to pump her full of it. Every drop, until she’s round with my child…
I push into her fully, watching the way her fingers grip her glass, noticing for the first time that her other hand is gripping my knee, her nails digging into my pants as her chest rises and falls in quick pants that only make her sexier.
Her walls flutter around my cock, and I want to fuck her and make them all watch, to show those who are still on the fence about admitting how they feel about Kat just how sweet she is when she submits, but that can wait.
We have plenty of time for that.
“Eat,” I tell her as Alex slides her plate back in front of her, my voice coming out gruff and raspy despite my attempt to seem indifferent.
Her head snaps around, gazing at me over her shoulder as if I’ve lost my mind, and maybe I have.
She has that effect on me, on all of us.
“Eat up, Cherry. Wouldn’t want to miss dessert now, would we?” Alex doesn’t even try to hide his double meaning as he downs the rest of his wine, pouring another glass and grabbing whatever is closest to fill his plate.
“What about you?” Kat asks, looking back at me again, her cheeks dusted with that slight pink I love. “What will you eat? How?” She clarifies when I don’t answer, and I know what she means, but I do love to watch her squirm.
“Why don’t you make me a plate. I’ll take whatever, it’s all my favorites.” I nod toward the extensive spread and watch as her eyes go wide.
With a nod, she turns back to the table, leaning forward, able to reach the Margherita pizza, lasagna, and saltimbocca without dislodging my cock from inside her, and this might just be my new favorite way to do anything.
She can’t seem to stop the soft whine that slips from her lips as she sits back once again, taking my full length.
“Thank you, Kat.” I lean forward and take a bite before offering her one as well.
She hesitates for a moment, almost unsure, before she leans in, wrapping those lips that could destroy me around my fork, before her eyes fall closed and she moans.
Am I jealous of food?
Yes, yes, I am.
This is going to be the longest meal of my life, but also the best.
I’m pretty sure the food's delicious, but I’d be lying if I said I was really paying attention to it. It’s kind of hard to pay attention to anything right now, though, with Nathan’s cock buried inside of me. I’m not sure if it’s torture because he’s not moving, or it would be worse if he were, especially considering the fact that we’re far from alone right now.
I chance a glance around the table through my eyelashes and breathe a sigh of relief when I find most everyone eating. That is, until Alex catches me looking at him; the smirk that pulls at his lips lets me know he knows exactly what Nathan is up to and likely has since the moment he asked me to sit with him.
I reach for my water, but before I can wrap my fingers around the glass, Alex snags it, pulling it down the length of the table and just out of reach.
“Oh damn, that’s not your glass, Alex,” Des says, and I don’t even need to look at him to know he’s smiling from ear to ear; I can hear it.
“Oh, you're right, Des,” Alex says in a mocking tone that has me glaring up at him. “My bad, Cherry.” He doesn’t sound like it was ‘his bad,’ and I purse my lips, looking back and forth between them.
What are they up to?
“Don’t tease her,” Nathan scolds them both, and I almost smile as he comes to my defense, but his next words sober me quickly.
“Grab the glass, Kat.”
Nathan’s words brush over me like a physical caress, and it’s impossible to miss the demand that accompanies them.
I feel every inch of him as I move forward, sliding along his length until I can just reach the glass with him still inside of me. With the glass in my hand, I slide back slowly. I can’t see his face because my back is to him, but I can feel his body tense. The feel of him slowly filling me again is enough to almost have me moaning aloud, but I somehow manage to keep my mouth shut.
“Fuck,” Des whispers, his voice low and rough, and if there was any question if he knew what was happening, it’s answered as I look up and see his pupils are blown wide, his teeth dug into his knuckle as he watches us.
Unfortunately, I’m not the only one who noticed his comment.
“What?” Oliver asks, looking toward him in concern. I look away, unable to meet his gaze should he turn his question this way.
