I don’t like it, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll simply have to find a way to get closer to him. I press myself against him, my chest against his, and the warmth of his skin sinks into mine.
I want him.
More of him.
All of him.
I want him so much that when he spins me and starts washing my back, I can’t bear the space between us. There’s an ache inside me that hurts differently today. It isn’t from a heat wave. It’s just there. A need. A desire. A desperate yearning for an unnamed thing I want but don’t have.
So far, the only thing that’s brought me relief since my heat started is Branson’s cock, so it seems obvious to me that it must hold the answer to my current predicament. I reach behind me, capturing him in my hand and stroking him quickly to full hardness. I lean forward surreptitiously as he washes my back, almost delusional enough to think he won’t notice if I slip his cock into me. The position is less than optimal. He’s a lot taller than me, and withouthim widening his stance and bending his knees, there’s no easy way to get him inside me comfortably.
Still, I’m not one to be easily deterred, so I push myself onto my toes and rub his head against my opening, nudging the tip in. Not deep. Just deep enough to take the edge off.
“Lucy.” He chuckles softly as he tries to wash me around my licentious ministrations. “I’m trying to clean you out. How can I do that if we’re joined?”
“Oh, you know. Just do your best. It’ll befine.”
There’s something unhinged in my voice. A hoarseness that spins and grows high-pitched. It would bother me a lot, except that right now, the only thing I care about is getting Branson’s big, beautiful alpha dick in my ass.
I whine and stamp my foot, sending indignant splashes into the air around us, when he pulls out and hoses me down. The cold water does nothing to take the edge off. If anything, it makes me worse.
“Come on. Let’s do your front.” Branson turns me so I’m facing him and lathers me again. This time, he tackles my chest and armpits and follows that with a methodical handling of my dick that’s meant to be purely perfunctory. My dick takes it completely the wrong way.
As the suds run off me, I cling to Branson’s neck, lifting one leg and hooking it around the back of his legs.
His cock bounces stiffly between us. It’s a nightmare trying to get it into me in this position. Fortunately, I’m nothing if not determined.
“Sorry I’m being like this,” I say out of social conditioning more than actual regret as I wrangle him between my legs.
“It’s okay. I understand.” His eyes are patient and warm. Kind and soft. Molten honey I feel in the back of my head.
“It’s just… It’s just that I need…something.” It doesn’t make sense because he’s already fucked me to within an inch of my life, but it’s the best way I can describe it. He’s fucked me so well and so often that I don’t know what day of the week it is. I don’t know how long I’ve been in heat or how many times I’ve taken him. There’s no way he could fuck me more, but still, there’s something I want. Something is missing.
I whine in frustration and push myself up higher onto my toes. His dick slips out of my grip, and he pulls away from me enough that it bobs up determinedly and becomes sandwiched between us.
“I know what you need, Lucy.” His voice is molasses. Thick and seductive. I like it so much that I almost don’t understand what he’s saying.
“You do?” I ask when his words land and rotate into something coherent. He nods and smiles as I reach downwith both hands and hold on to his boner as though it’s a lifeline. “What is it?”
Light and shadows waltz in his eyes, a playful dance I feel in my belly. “A knot, Lucy. You need a knot.”
Oh Jesus. I forgot about that.
The idea of being knotted has always terrified me. An already big cock, swelling bigger inside me. A thick base filling me and expanding so wide that once it takes root, it has the potential to get stuck in me until it recedes.
My God.
The pressure against my prostate will be relentless. A sensation endless and overwhelming. Branson’s body and mine will be joined, with no way of being separated. We could be stuck together for hours. Hours and hours.
Thinking about it now, I can’t quite remember why I haven’t always loved the idea. I mean, what’s not to like? Seriously, is it just me, or is the concept full-on idyllic?
“Can I have it?” I ask with the distinct twang of a plea.
“Of course you can, baby. It’s yours.”
Branson’s little smile from last night is back, and this time it’s paired with bloodshot eyes that droop from lack of sleep. He looks so sexy like this that I forget about my quest to get on his cock and unhook my leg, putting it down on the tiled floor with the other one so I can take him in fully.
He really is terribly good-looking. Handsome in a hard way. Strong jaw, heavy brow. I think maybe that’s why I like this little smile so much. It’s so soft and so sweet. Such a stark contrast to everything else about him.
