“I wanted to give you so much more.”
“No, it helped me so much. My medical debt, it’s . . . unending. But you gave me room to breathe.”
“But I wanted to give you so much more. And I was so worried about you. I-I should have asked why you were—fuck, I’m ruining the mood. We should fuck.”
She laughs silently, but I can feel it on my belly and in her thighs, thick in the grips of my hands. I start to guide her back down, loving the way her ass bumps into my swelling cock, pushing it down just enough that the head nudges between her folds painfully, exquisitely slowly, dragging over every ripple and divot, pausing at her clit.
But then her thighs tighten onto my hips, and she rocks herself against me, riding me like a sex toy, taking what she wants out of me. Using me.
I’m hers to be used.
“Blaise?” she whispers hesitantly, and I have to hold back a curse because I’m feeling about to burst already, and I know that tone. I know she’s about to ask me something that’s going to piss me off and crush the vibe before we even get that damn condom on.
Which, shit, I’m definitely leaving a trail in her trail. Hopefully I can talk her into something better for birth control because I can’t get a vasectomy until the off-season.
“What, baby?” I ask as calmly as I can while I fight conflicting urges to plow into her right now and to text Doc Keltner and see if he’d green-light a vasectomy this week since I’m out anyway.
“You know that . . . that how I looked then, it was because of the cancer, right?”
“Oh, Trix.” Okay, I pushed her to this one. I can fix this. I sit up, letting her pool in my lap so I can kiss her more gently. “Baby, you were so beautiful then. I knew you were sick. That’s why I was so worried. I can’t tell you how much I regret not getting your name so I could make sure you were okay.”
“I’m never going to be that skinny again,” she says on a gust of air.
A gust I don’t understand. “No, of course not. You had cancer.”
“No. Blaise.” She takes me by the cheeks to get me to look at her, even though there’s nothing, not even the faintest silhouette. I have blackout curtains. “Blaise, you didn’t know me before. You have no idea what I looked like before. So I knowyou’ve seen Joss just drop thirty pounds like nothing, but that’s never going to happen to me. My baby weight is just my weight.”
I stare at her — well, at the image of her that I’ve superimposed on the darkness — as I try to figure out what the hell she’s talking about. Joss went from pregnant to not pregnant, same as Tilly did. Did she lose even more weight afterward? How the hell would I know that? Joss wears giant, mish-mashed dresses that an entire clown family could live under. Is Joss sick? Do I need to—
And then it hits me.
And I get mad.
“Woman, give me that stupid thing,” I snarl, snatching the condom out of her hand and tearing it open with my teeth, ending up with a mouthful of jelly because that was stupid, but I don’t care.
“Blaise!” Tilly cries out as I push her back enough to unroll it before plopping Tilly back into place and gripping my shaft to hold it at her entrance.
“Now sit on this goddamn cock!” I yell at her.
She resists. She’s going to kill me, I swear. So I thrust up just enough that I can reach up and grab her by the shoulders, slamming her down as far as she’ll go, filling her.
I love her so much. And as much as I know it was love at first sight for her too, there was no way she wasn’t completely, one hundred percent, unquestionably, unshakably in love with me the second she slammed into my chest at Ani-Con because my chest is amazing and clearly meant for her, she’s finally said it.
This is it. This is what I’m going to have for the rest of my life. And she better be prepared to live a good, long life with me because I’m going to want this forever. Her pussy was builtfor me. I don’t care if she’s a little bit broken and nothing quite works right; she’s mine.
And nothing that’s mine is anything less than perfect, and that’s why, instead of actually melting into her, I pump myself hard into her for a couple strokes, making her whimper.
“Do you feel that?” I ask. “Do you think this is the cock of a man who doesn’t want your ass in his lap every single night? Do you think this is the cock of a man who doesn’t want to feel every goddamn roll of your belly against my stomach as I pump into you over and over again until I fill this tight, wet pussy full of cum?”
“I’m just . . .” Tilly starts, but the moment I stop moving beneath her, she sinks down, taking for herself, riding me. “I’m not . . . I’m . . . I’m . . .”
“Fucking perfect?” I press my hand against her lower back, and she bends to the touch, her every soft, full curve melting along me, filling me as much as I’m filling her. “You’re fucking perfect, Trix. God, I love you so fucking much.”
She tips back even more, forcing me to hold her up as she rides me slowly, carefully rising up until just my tip holds us together before she lowers herself down, then rises back up again.
It’s hypnotic. Not being able to see her means I see with every one of my senses. I see her supple flesh with my hands. I see her mouth, her upper lip curled back over her teeth, her tongue pushing against the roof of her mouth with my ears. I see the sweat that begins to bead on the soft plane of her shoulders and the thick gel gathering on the base of my cock with my nose.
I see the beautifully rounded mounds of her full, bountiful breasts with my tongue as I take her firm, pebbled nipple between my lips and pull, sucking her sweetness from her,letting her addictive, intoxicating cream fill my mouth. It’s so thick on my tongue I want to drown in it.
