Madeline
***
HE DOESN’T SAY A WORD. But he growls as he throws me down, yanking my yoga pants off my legs. Getting off the bed and making short work of his own pants.
He is a work of art, thick with muscles and heat. His cock is...well, now I know I didn’t remember that incorrectly. He’s really too big for a mere mortal. The wicked glint in his eyes tells me he knows he’s big. Knows he’s intimidating. Knows I can take it. That he’s remembering how I took it so well before.
He palms himself in front of me, all male pride and wonderful lust. Oh God. He is thick. And beautiful.
I work up some courage. “If you need a hand, I’m happy to assist.”
He shakes his head. “If you touch me right now, I’ll embarrass us both.” Something about his long, slow strokes down his cock makes my pussy quiver.
I’m questioning my no baby-making rule.
“So, you’re going to stay over there, then?” I widen my legs, giving him what I hope is an enticing view.
“Sunshine, you don’t play fair. Lay down. All the way now.”
I do as he asks and feel the bed dip from his weight. Instead of settling over me, he stays to the side a bit. Honoring our pact. I feel him touching me, but not with his hands. With the cock he holds in his hand, he rests it on my breast. My stomach flips at the sight of it there. The way it feels when he uses it to glide across my nipple and back. Hard as iron, wrapped in silky soft skin, he rubs the moist tip of himself against the tight, pebbled peak of my nipple,
“So pretty,” he murmurs, as entranced by the sight as I am.
It is more erotic than I expected. The ridge rubbing across my now diamond-hard nipple. He continues his exploration, gasping now and then as the sensitive underside of his dick strokes over my skin. He is marking me, claiming every inch of me with his thick, hard cock. It’s primitive. A dark desire that should feel out of place in modern times, but doesn’t.
I knot the quilt beneath me in my hands. I want to touch him. I want to taste him. But being owned by him is the hottest thing that has ever happened to me.
He straddles me, bringing that rigid cock to my cleavage and squeezing my breasts around his girth.
Okay, this is the hottest thing that has ever happened to me. He throws his head back like some sort of primal god, the cords of his neck straining with pleasure.
“Look at me, Boone.”
He moves his hips again, hissing in pleasure, but continues to stare at the ceiling.
“Look at us.” I put my hands over his, squeezing my flesh around him.
“If I look at you right now, I’ll come. I have no control left. Not an ounce.”
He rocks again, and I snake my tongue around his crown on the upstroke. He looks down at me then. Fierce passion scorching me, his nostrils flaring, his huge hands squeezing me hard enough to leave marks. “Madeline.”
I love the salty taste of his pre-cum. I try to keep my lips around him longer each time he passes back up. Oh, this is hot. The look on his face. The feel of that fat cock on my tongue. My tits cushioning his shaft, but the crown is for my lips.
He stops thrusting, his body rigid and tight. We’ve only spent one night together, but I know when my man is ready to come. And he is ready.
“I want you to come. On me. All over me.”
“I want to make it last, sunshine.”
He thrusts and holds ten seconds longer when I get him in my mouth and suck. He pulls back, and I say, “We’ve got all night. Let yourself go. I want you to so badly, I want to be sticky and dirty and yours—”
He begins shaking, every corded muscle tense and defined, his eyes glazed over in lust. “I’ve dreamed about you like this,” he says, a clear warning in his voice. “Dreamed of what you would look like if I painted you with—”
He doesn’t finish his thought with words, but his orgasm tears out of him with a violent groan. He spends his come all over me, glazing my chest just as he promised, and I am shaking though I haven’t come myself.
I’m close though.
I didn’t know I could be so animalistic. Maybe some women would not appreciate being in my position right now, covered with sticky hot seed. But I revel in it. The dirtier the better.
“Is there a name for what we just did?”
He eyes me, blushing a little, which is sweet but unnecessary. “Sunshine, I’m...”
“Not sorry. Say it, Sunshine, I’m not sorry. Because I swear to God, Boone—”
“I treated you like a—”
“Woman you’ve been dying to fuck. To own. To claim.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
I raise up on my elbows, still sticky and hot. I look down my breasts, at the trails of jizz. “Not even a little bit.” A look of tenderness crosses his face, so I send him a sassy smile. “What’s it called?”
He shakes his head. “Titty fuck.” He groans and rolls off me onto his back. “That doesn’t sound very romantic.”
I don’t say anything, waiting for him to look at me. To see me rubbing him into my skin in circles with my fingers. His gaze darkens, and he swallows hard.
“I didn’t look after your needs. Tonight was supposed to be about you.”
“I enjoyed myself just fine.”
He raises one brow. “I should have given you a hundred orgasms before I took one.”
I lick his cream off my fingers. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He growls and moves again, this time pushing my legs open. “You really did like that, didn’t you?” He palms me between my legs, runs a finger over me where I ache the most. “So wet, sunshine.” He continues to massage my clit, and I open my legs more. “Keep touching your tits. Just like that. God look at you.”
I whimper as he brings his face down. Little shocks of electricity are running through my body as if I were a live wire.
“You’re so pretty here. Your cunt is so wet and ready for me.”
My pulse has settled between my legs like it’s my new heart.
“Do you want me to make you come?” he asks.
“Yes.”
He uses the tip of his tongue and very little pressure, a tickle almost. “Better ask nice, dirty girl.”
“Please,” I beg.
“Please what?” Another soft tickle and the scrape of his stubble on my inner thigh makes me squirm, but he tamps down my legs so I can’t move. “Don’t stop touching yourself and tell me what you want.”
I pinch my nipples, and we both groan. “Please make me come, Boone. Use your mouth and make me come.”
He hardly moves his jaw, just adds a little pressure, and I fall off the cliff chanting his name. He doesn’t stop. He keeps at me, licking and sucking the area around my clit until I come down, and then he licks me there again, setting me off one more time.
I shake and my body quakes, knowing that pieces of me are cracked forever. I am broken. He’s broken me.
“That’s it, love,” he says in that deep, rich voice that settles over my raw nerves like a blanket. “I’ve got you. Such a good girl.”
I guess I went somewhere else. I have no idea how long I was gone, but I become aware that he is holding me, stroking my hair, telling me how good I am. How beautiful. And he kisses me, feeding himself back into me, filling the strange new cracks and making me feel whole again.