“Taking you to bed. Because you deserve better than the kitchen counter.”
“You make it sound so sweet.”
“Did you want to be fucked on the kitchen counter?”
“I just want to be fucked.”
“That’s my girl.”
He took us to the bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothes behind us. He threw me down on his bed, fished a condom out of the drawer, slid it on, and then pushed into me.
As wet and hot as I was, I took his thick, long cock to the hilt.
The rush of his penetration, the immense bliss that it pushed through me—I struggled to believe that I would ever grow tired of this, ever stop yearning for his cock. He was all too happy to give me anything and everything I wanted. His chest rubbed against my nipples, the delightful friction that sparked the blaze between us pleasantly adding to the visceral sensations we were both enjoying.
My legs closed around him as I started to grind against his cock, needing to feel more of him, to experience all this bliss just a little more, just a little longer. My fingers clawed his back as the tide rose inside me, the pace of our act rumbling through me and making it harder and harder to keep my mouth shut.
I called out for him, loud and incoherent but still enjoying Mark’s own struggles to keep himself together. Only his discipline and bravado kept him from expressing his lust as loudly as I was, and that fact brought quite the smirk to my face. Mark quickly turned it into a whimper as he reached down to stroke my clit.
I was close and couldn’t control myself anymore. Our pace was furious, and it wasn’t long before I was rushing over the edge of pleasure. Mark cursed as he came.
“You’re such a good fuck,” he said, kissing me on the corner of my mouth appreciatively. I just flashed him a smile as I sprawled against him. He petted my hair then kissed me. “You don’t smell like a tire fire,” he said, cuddling me close. “You actually smell more like a chemical fire.”
“You really know how to make a girl feel special. And to think I was going to make your condo feel homey,” I complained as I pushed out of his bed.
“No, come back.”
“I’m washing my hair if I smell like a chemical fire,” I told him.
Mark prowled after me into the bathroom.
Even knowing he was behind me, I was quick to get the hot water flowing. I did want to clean myself up, even if I also wanted whatever Mark was planning on giving me.
He stripped off the last bit of his clothing as I desperately tried to get a little bit of bathing done. The hot water running down my hair and body felt wonderful.
What was more wonderful was him climbing in behind me, his cock already poking at my ass. He had come equipped and ready for me.
“You can’t just stand there naked, the water streaming over those perfect tits, and not expect me to want to fuck you again, Brea.” He rolled a condom onto his cock and flung the wrapper outside the shower.
Not even a moment later, he thrust himself inside me and immediately set a hard and fast pace, as if we hadn’t even finished moments before. He was quick to make the sexual heat raging between us even fiercer. He had me pressed against the shower wall, the chill of the tile making my nipples hard.
Mark was in full control of me, holding me tightly, rubbing my clit, his cock sliding out then taking me fully again and again. The hot water splashing down on us just added a bit of sensory joy to the situation, a soothing contrast to the very intense heat that was building inside me.
Reckless and fast, it was all a continuation of what we had just been doing. He was fucking me hard and fast to another orgasm, and with a finger on my clit, he took me right there.
Smooshed against a wall, I moaned for him. My voice echoed through the bathroom as Mark held me tight and I enjoyed my release. I whimpered as he continued to thrust into me and then came, shuddering, in my pussy. With him, it would be easy to spend forever and a day just doing this again and again.
The thought was tantalizing and frightening. But when I turned to face him, his smile and his wet hair plastered against his forehead made me only feel safe and happy.
“Did you work up an appetite?” I purred against him as the spray of the water washed away the signs of our lovemaking.
We stepped out of the shower, and Mark wrapped me in a large, fluffy towel.
“I’m seriously jealous of your bathroom,” I told him. “It’s bigger than my entire bedroom.” I pushed away from him before he could think that I was fishing for money or to have him improve my lifestyle. I was not Memphis Eve.
“You hungry?”
“I mean—”
