Chapter Twenty

 

RYAN

 

I can't help myself, looking down at Davis's body beneath me. I can feel the heat, where we're pressed together. The way that she trembles, I can feel the need that she's feeling, need reflected in my own hardness.

I put a hand down on her back, pressing her body into the seat, and rub the head of my cock up and down her wet pussy. I push inside slowly, her arousal slick enough that I don't find much resistance against my invading cock.

Davis groans out her pleasure, a pleasure that threatens even after so little to overwhelm me. Her pussy pressed in against my unprotected cock clutches at every part of it, fighting to stop me from pulling back out.

The sensation is almost too much as I pull back. When I slam forward again into her waiting pussy, Davis lets out a loud groan of pleasure. I can't help but join her.

"Oh, fuck," I groan, starting to settle into a rhythm. With each pull out, I feel her pussy trying to pull me back in, and with each thrust in I feel as if I'm already impossibly close to orgasm.

I take a grip of her hips and use them as a handle to push into her harder, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh starting to echo through the bar around us. I don't care, and as far as I can tell, Davis doesn't care, either. Not that she seems like she's in any state to worry about anything.

She shudders with pleasure as I pound my cock into her again, my grip starting to slip where her body is slick with sweat from the heat of the room mixing with the heat of arousal.

I can feel myself hitting her deepest parts, her body giving up its pleasure to me. I don't need to be given, though. I take what I want, forcing myself into her again and again.

Davis is moaning out her pleasure again, unable to contain her voice even for a moment, now. Her voice rises with each thrust, and her lamentations as I pull out are given voice almost as loudly.

I push into her again, some primal instinct driving me to take a fist-full of her hair and pull her head back. Her back arches away from the bench, but she still cries out in pleasure beneath me.

"Don't stop." The words can barely make it out of her mouth between her moans and her ragged breath, but I don't need to be told.

I move her leg, forcing it up onto the raised floor under the booth, opening her hips more for my movements between them. I didn't think it was possible to drive into her any deeper, but I find the space.

My body cries out with need, every thrust driving me closer and closer to orgasm, bringing me closer to the edge. I drive into her, each thrust seeming to take me deeper than the last, to mark her as mine so that nobody else will ever be able to have her.

A dangerous part of me likes that idea. Likes the idea that nobody after this will ever be able to measure up to me. I take my grip on her hips again and use it to thrust as hard as I can, forcing her body to remember my shape with the power of each thrust.

Her hips stopped moving, but I can still see her hands, ineffectually scrabbling for something to get a grip on, something that will give her some sort of control or context on her surroundings.

I reach down and take that hand in my own, pulling her shoulders back tight. She arches away from the cushion again, her hips pressing back against my invading cock now, a new dimension that I hadn't even considered or imagined.

I can feel her tightening down on me for what feels like the third or fourth time, and where I had thought that Davis was out of energy and couldn't muster the strength to keep fucking the way we had been, she seemed to find something more.

Her body seemed to sense my approaching orgasm, and she seemed to know that any minute now, I would be letting loose an orgasm inside her waiting, fertile womb.

That thought drives me to thrust into her with renewed vigor, and her body seems to be matching my intensity, meeting each thrust with her hips pushing back, letting a loud 'slap' of flesh-on-flesh ring out every time I take her.

I can feel my body tensing, can feel myself losing the control that lets me keep a steady rhythm. Need begins to overtake my control, forcing me to take each thrust as I can get it.

The rhythm breaks, and now I have nothing more than desire and the sensation that any moment I'll pass over the crest and finally fulfill the nagging need inside me.

One last push inside and my vision goes dark, my eyes forcing themselves shut as a powerful orgasm rips through my body, the two of us still joined as I cum hard, one long potent strand of cum after another shooting into her.

Maybe I shouldn't have done it. I don't care. My body starts to relax, the fire that had taken over my body starting to ebb away. I lean forward to press a kiss against the nape of Davis's neck, laying still there for a moment before pulling out of her.

A drop of cum follows with me, spilling out and onto the floor, just something else I'm going to have to clean up when all this is over.

Davis lays there for a long minute, panting and trying to catch her breath, before turning herself over in the bench.

"That was—"

I smile at her, lazily palming one of her breasts as it pools on her chest. A woman always looks her best on her back, like that. Something stirs deep inside me, a renewed interest that I haven't decided yet whether or not to refuse.

"Yes, it was," I agree. My thumb passes over her nipple, and it hardens immediately, already trained to follow my orders. Davis's body is more honest than she is, at least.

"We shouldn't have done it, though."

"Shut up," I tell her, my voice lacking even the edge of a threat.

She shuts up, and I smile down at her. She smiles back, a rare moment of tranquility and acquiescence. Davis doesn't make any move for her clothing, and neither do I.

Something inside me says that I should take her again. There's always the chance, the animal part of my brain tells me, that it didn't take. I shut it out.

I lean down again, still undecided about what I'll do next, except that I want to taste her nipples again. I pull the neglected nipple into my mouth and let my tongue trace a circle around it.

Davis's hands start tracing their way through my hair again, lazily twirling rings around her fingers and idly pulling at it, letting me take things at my own pace.

I can feel myself growing hard again already. It's not something that I've generally had a problem with, not since high school. With this voluptuous beauty beneath me, though, I'm not sure that once will be enough. I take her nipple between my teeth and bite down, hard enough to force her to draw a breath.

Her fingers tighten in my hair, though neither of us can possibly be sure whether it's to encourage me or to try to stop me. She doesn't stop me, either way.

The phone ringing, on the other hand, does.