He smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah, I can. All fours.”
She turned, presenting her ass to him. This was their favourite position; Toby’s hand in her hair, his cock deep inside her, driving both of them insane.
“Lift your little skirt,” he said. “Show me that pussy.”
She folded the fabric forward, keeping her legs together so all he could see was a narrow almond. A girl had to havesomestandards. Not that Toby seemed to think that way.
“You’re so fucking desperate,” he said, unzipping his fly. “Gagging. I could have been a stranger, and you’d have bent over just the same.”
“No,” Tabby whimpered.
“Whatever.” His still-freezing hands settled around her ass. “Lucky you’re pretty, or I’d start thinking about sharing you. Letting the boys get a few rounds in after I’m done.”
Tabby bit her lower lip to keep from moaning. This thing with Toby had swerved into such dangerous waters so seamlessly that it was hard to remember she’d once been worried about him holding this kind of power over her. Now, she didn’t feel scared at all. Toby would never dream of talking about her this way in front of anyone. A few nights ago, she told him a dude in a Meatwell truck had yelled ‘nice fat titties’ at her on Barkley Street, and he’d called the company and gotten the driver reprimanded. This was just a game. Just creamy, filthy sex. Two weirdos being weird together with excellent results.
“No,” she told Toby. “Please don’t let anyone else touch me?”
She turned in time to see him grin, his teeth flashing in the semi-darkness. “We’ll see. Want my dick inside you?”
She nodded, aware that mean, roleplaying Toby liked her shy.
“Too fucking bad. Reach around and pull me off.”
Tabby did as she was told, balancing on one hand as she stroked Toby’s cock with the other, but he had to be as wound up as she was because he made her stop after only a few seconds. “I’ve changed my mind. Get on your back. I want it old school.”
She felt a stab of nerves as she rolled over. ‘Old school’ sounded like missionary, and missionary was… tricky. Doggy style didn’t just feel the best, it kept her from having to look Toby in the eyes while he was fucking her, something he seemed increasingly interested in doing. She liked watching him fuck her, but on her terms. Whenever he was on top of her, staring into her face, she got worried he’d see something.What,she had no idea, but experience had revealed that it was easier for her to eat Toby’s ass while he threatened to cum in her hair than anything that resembled ‘lovemaking.’
Yet as Toby pulled his t-shirt over his head, she had to admit missionary had its silver linings. On her back, she had a better view of his body. He’d already been massive and rippling with muscle, but the tattoo she’d put on his right arm gave him a dangerous air that had floored her when she’d first stepped back and said, ‘It’s done.’
She’d always liked guys with tats—she had eyes—but the beauty of an inked Toby Tennant was something else. He was almost unfathomably attractive now. And the stag tattoo had turned out to be one of her best-ever pieces. She’d taken snaps of it when it was first finished, and not showing the world her half-naked Toby pictures was almost killing her.
“Ready?” he growled, braced above her.
“Yes, Toby.” Unable to help herself, she smoothed her hands along his collarbones and down his arms. He shuddered under her touch like a lonely dog being petted.
“Look at me,” he said. “Watch me while I fuck you.”
Tabby had been afraid of that. She kept her eyes focused on the ceiling. “You need to hurry. Conor’s coming to bed soon.”
Toby gripped her chin and forced her gaze to his. “Say that again.”
Terror rushed through her, colder than the hand on her face. She wasn’t scared of the man Toby was pretending to be. Herkingdomto be scared of the man Toby was pretending to be. It was the man hewasthat scared her as she stared into his pale blue eyes. Not the fake rage and entitlement, but the genuine affection beneath it. The sense that he was trying to tell her something when there was nothing she wanted to hear except exceptionally filthy sex talk.
“Sorry,” she said, desperately trying to pivot back to roleplay. “I won’t say his name again. It’s just, I’m so worried that he’ll?—”
“You say one more word, I’ll choke you out,” Toby snarled. “It’s my name, ‘thank you, God’ or nothing. Got it? And if you’re too ashamed to look at me, then shut your eyes while you take my dick.”
Mission accomplished.
“Got it,” Tabby said happily. She was an agnostic, but she’d happily praise at the altar of Toby Tennant’s God complex. She closed her eyes and waited, legs open.
Toby spat in his palm, then reached between their bodies. She listened to him slick himself down, then felt the broad head of his cock against her pussy.
“Beg.”
“Please, please, pl—uhhhh!”
In one stroke, he seated himself deep. Tabby arched into the mattress, her walls struggling against the sudden invasion. “Toby!”
