Page 110 of Rebellious

“Fuck, baby, you stuck on Italian.”

“It can be plain lobster.”

“I have to go fishing then?”

Kendall giggled. “I’ll come with you. We can skinny dip in the ocean and get all the lobsters we can eat.”

“Wouldn’t mind the skinny dipping. Don’t want the lobsters. They’ll probably pinch Roscoe.”

“Booooooo,” she said. “I’d crush them if they hurt your cock. That would upset me.”

“Fuck, not as upset as I would be.”

“In pain, too. I’d kiss it and make it feel better.”

Roscoe perked at the idea and Mortician tipped his head down, meeting her sultry gaze. His balls fucking ached. “Motherfucker in pain right now,” he slurred.

Kendall brushed her hand over his crotch. “I want to kiss it and make it feel better.”

His brain was too foggy to remember why letting Kendall suck his dick was not only a bad idea, but wrong.

He pulled her into his arms and took her mouth in a ravenous kiss.

“God,” she groaned. “You smell so good. I love your cologne. I always have.”

He didn’t bother to answer and kissed her again, losing himself in the softness of her lips, her little sounds.

He only felt the sensation of her mouth on him, taking his cock down her throat, licking the aching head and fondling his balls. Her slurps sent chills down his body, but fucking her mouth wasn’t enough. He wanted her.

Her pants frustrated him. Discovering her thong when he finally removed her trousers annoyed him, too, and he ripped them away, burying his face between her legs and licking her pussy until she came against his tongue, crying out for more.

Rising above her, he trapped her hands above her head and sank into her. She felt so fucking good.

If he’d been more sober, he would’ve tied her hands. Or, if she’d been sober, he would told her to give him the sash from her pants, but since they were both drunk motherfuckers, he left it alone.

“Fuck me hard and fast,” she breathed.

He slammed into her, not releasing her hands even when she tried to escape.

“Please?” She lifted her hips and met his thrust. “I want to wrap my arms around you.”

“You don’t like a little bondage?” he asked her but relented.

Tangling her fingers through his hair, she pressed her lips against his, working her pussy against his cock, taking every ruthless inch he pounded into her.

“I want to swallow your cum,” she said in a plume of alcohol.

He grunted. She felt so fucking good, he hated to pull out of her pussy. “Come first,” he whispered, raining kisses along her jaw and down the column of her throat.

Leaning back, he slid his cock out of her, rested the head against her clit and used it to caress an orgasm from her. She screamed, the sound sending him over the edge. He burst over her pussy lips.

Breathing heavily, he went limp, truly sated for the first time in weeks.

Twice more, he fucked her. When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of Bailey.

The next morning, he awakened to a pounding head. It took him a moment to get his bearings and to remember snippets from the night before.

Horror washed through him, but he could only think one thing: fuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkkk.