“Jake, I?—”
“Fucking beg, Katarina, or I’ll pull out and come all over your tits.”
With a groan of annoyance, she strains up—head, neck, hips—then releases back and says, “Fine. Fine, I want it. I want your come.”
Just those words send a flush of endorphins or some shit through me. It feels so damn good. “Yeah. More.”
“I want you to fill me up.”
“That’s fucking right.”
“I want to to to feel it. I want to…” She swallows. “I want to to to…”
“Be my little come slut.”
“No!” So outraged. Like she hasn’t thought it.
“Say it. Say it, Kit.”
“I want you to to to give me a baby.” A pause while she screws up her face and keens. “Give it all to me. I’m your…oh, god, I’m…I’m…your…”
Pleasure rushes me, hard and fast, makes my brain malfunction and my tongue spew nothing that makes sense.
“Oh god,” Kit’s moaning. “God, fill me. Fill me. I’m…I’m I’m…”
“You’re my sweet little come slut and I’ll give it to you every day. Every fucking drop I ever have. All yours. All yours. Always.”
Which is what I do. With every deep, frantic shunting of my hard body into hers, all the nerves and rules and duties scatter and we’re nothing but bodies. Fucking hard. Taking. Giving.
Wanting.
Wanting.
My ability to speak gets lost in the mindless mix and before I know it, before I can stop it, everything’s gathering in my gut, my spine, my balls, building, building, the pressure an ache, a pain, a steel piston, driving hard and then?—
Detonation.
Eyes screwed shut, vocal cords raw, every cell straining, stretched taut.
A shockwave. Another.
Numb. Quiet. The pressurized vacuum.
A roar tears from my lungs, scrapes its way through my throat and out. Out.
When I come to, what feels like a lifetime later, my spent body’s wrapped tightly around hers, my half-hard cock still buried inside her. My weight’s probably stifling the life out of her.
I start to move, ready to get up and leave—too destroyed to think this could possibly be the last time—and for a handful of seconds, her arms refuse to let me go and she’s warm and soft and solid and feels exactly like home.
This is what I want.
“That was…” She swallows, turns and presses her face into my neck and whispers, “Thank you, Jake.”
Fuck. Those words are a hard punch to my gut. I lose my air.
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe through the pain.
Thank you.Again.High class Katarina Esteban dismissing the lowly help.
