I’m so tender now, but while the repeated pressure is so intense I feel something close to pain, I don’t want him to stop. Every breath he takes, every time air dances over my skin when he exhales, reminds me how much I want to please him.
I’m ashamed of it—it’s he who should want to endear himself to me—but I can’t control those thoughts any more than I can make myself live on solar power.
He’s fucking me even harder now, and I whimper when the force behind each thrust feels almost like relief.
Dalton lowers himself over me and rests his weight against my back. “Love. This.” More thrusts. “So hot. And. Throbbing. For me.”
And then he comes. His whole body goes rigid for a moment, then trembles, and it’s the sweetest feeling to know that I did that to this beautiful man. I can give him a minute before I tell him what I think about him answering the phone while mid-fuck.
I slide to my knees the moment his cock retreats, and when I open my eyes, sprawled with my back against the kitchen island, that beautiful shaft is the first thing I see. Dalton’s thighs are thick and hairy, and I stroke them as I take in the condom filled with a load that would have ended up inside me if I wasn’t insisting on rubbers.
I’m still catching my breath when his warm fingers slide into my hair, and I reach for his cock, hypnotized by the skin visible underthe tight layer of latex. “You’re such an idiot. She could have noticed something was off,” I pant, peeling the condom off.
He winks at me with a self-satisfied smirk and steps closer so his dick is right in my face. Even as it softens it’s a thing of beauty. “Want a lick? Mommy doesn’t have to know.”
“Why do you have to make it weird?” I ask, but the temptation is too much, and I gently take the head of his cock between my lips. It tastes of his cum, and I can’t resist savoring it for a couple of moments.
Dalton shrugs with a grin. “Oops. I did it again.”
Eh. It’s become a meme between us in the past weeks that he’d say it any time he fucks something up. A Britney Spears song is in keeping with his disturbing taste in the most mainstream stuff pop music has to offer. Incomprehensibly, I caught myself saying the line when I dropped a plate yesterday. Dalton laughed his ass off and forced me to repeat it in a sing-songy voice. The fact that I agreed is testament to how much I’ve lost my mind for him.
He strokes my hair and yawns. “Just teasing. I don’t wanna ignore her calls. She needs to like me.”
I’m slowly regaining my composure even though I’ve just realized I pressed my back against my own cum on the wall. Oh well, I need to shower anyway.
“What did she want?” I whisper, sliding my arms around Dalton’s toned legs and resting my cheek on his thigh. He’s so fucking gorgeous I want to eat him up every day.
“It’s about the tailor visit.”
“What tailor visit?”
Dalton frowns at me. “I put it in the calendar.”
I groan and press my forehead against his leg. “Did you add me to the event?”
The long silence tells me everything. “I mean… I thought I did. Can you show me how to do it again?”
“It’s fortunate that you’re handsome,” I say and press a kiss to his flesh.
Dalton might have a good heart, and be fantastic at fucking and fighting, but he’s not well adjusted to a life of forms, deadlines, and organization.
The strangest thing is that I usually despise inefficiency and chaos, but with him it’s… endearing? I can take care of him, and it fills a void I didn’t know I had. While I want him to fuck me until I’m half-lucid and dripping sweat, I love that I get to be the man in other moments. I had to grow up too fast after Father’s death, but it serves me well that I’m responsible and organized.
“Sorry.” He chuckles, gently stroking my hair, but while I’m enjoying the afterglow, going by the phone call, I already know we’ll be late, and I hate being late.
Do I want to marry Dalton? Yes. One hundred percent I want to make him mine officially and I’ll cut down anyone standing in the way of my obsession with him. He’s like that Friesian horse I stole when I was told he wasn’t for sale. A beautiful stallion.
He satisfies me, is easy to be around, and what else could I possibly want from a man? I’m not prone to crushes, or silly romantic infatuations, so why not tie the knot and never have to suffer dissatisfaction again? I can keep Dalton in line.
But do I really need to go through this whole wedding terror my mother’s insisting on? It has nothing to do with our relationship.
I grab the edge of the counter and pull myself up, falling straight into Dalton’s arms. “You know what? There’s no need for all this fuss. Let’s elope to Vegas, sign the papers, and skip all the stressful shit,” I tell him, now certain that it’s the best possible solution.
Dalton strokes my sticky back, spreading cum all over. “What? But I want the wedding… Your mom said she’s getting us an amazing venue, we’ve already talked to a florist, and we have cake sampling next week.”
I’m surprised at how disappointed he sounds. It can’t be about cake, since I gave him a pre-paid card with an allowance, so he can buy whatever cake he wants.
“Why?”
