Chapter 17

Jane

 

The time away from Michael had been dreadfully painful, and I’d been dreaming of his lips ever since they were on me. I strolled down the pet store isle, looking for JB‘s favorite food.

Throwing a 20LB bag of it into my cart, I rolled it down a ways, making brief eye contact with an oily faced man in his middle ages. I didn’t recognize him, but he seemed to know me. His hairline was fading, and looked just as bad as his skin. Honestly it made me kind of want to retch a little. I don’t know why the opposite sex generally disgusted me so much - I mean aside from this one looking like he hadn’t showered for a month.

But with Michael, it was different. Even when he was breaking my rules I still felt safe around him, felt like everything was going to be okay.

Why he made me feel that irritating way, I was not certain.

“I’ve seen you,” the creepy guy blurted, but not too loudly. He brought up a hand and put it to his chest, scratching nervously. “You’re from the news,” he nodded his head very sure of himself, repeating himself once more.

I hurried away from the man and made my way to the check out. A dazzlingly beautiful young woman greeted me, scanning my items. Her black name tag, featuring Pet World, read Belle Jannis Hawthorne.

 

***

When I got home, I’d only left my Christmas LED lights on. Resting on my bed, unmoving, was JB. “I’m home,” I called out to him affectionately, dropping the heavy bag of dog food on the floor against my kitchen counter. I went to and from the door, bringing back in some milk bone treats, a new red and blue tennis ball for him to play with, and a few other various things.

I brushed back my hair and locked the door behind me, looking back over to my bed. “JB?” I called out. It wasn’t like him to be so soundly asleep after me coming home. Usually... normally.

My heart rate picked up, and I called out his name again, a hair more concern than before; I clung to the doubt that I had like a warm blanket in a frigid storm.

One step towards him, and needles of fear skewered my skin. “JB!” I fretted, my voice breaking after another step. At this point my mind could only turn and turn the same thoughts over endlessly, the agony of my realization stretching out my head and heart on a torturous rack.

I dashed over to his side, climbed onto the bed and picked up his limp body. The weight of him in my arms, it made me want to die. Stings of water kissed at my eyes, and my vision started to become blurry. His neck had been broken, and every nerve in my body was on fire.

There was no way that I could be alone right now. No. No fucking way in hell.

Who the hell did this? I reached for the phone, and I called Michael. It all happened so quick it seemed like my actions and words blurred together; before I knew it, his voice was confidently assuring me that he would be here as fast as he could.

The twenty minutes that passed did so in a painful rhythm of tears, sobs, and wiping at my own snot. At some point I moved hollow to the door, let Michael inside, and crushed myself against his chest, throwing all of the pain at him - praying that he would drink it all away.

He held me tight. Really tight. The way that a priest might absolve a sinner from their sins. His tender fingers trailed through my hair, and I just cried. I pleaded to him that it wasn’t fair, and he told me that he knew - he knew that life was messed up and full of unfairness. He kissed my head once, twice, and again for every squeeze that I gave him beside my door. Time and time again he proved to me that he wasn’t just a heartless man of business, and tonight I couldn’t be more thankful.

“I’ll find who did this,” he promised in a pained, empathetic whisper. “I’ll find them, Jane.” His words cloaked me in warmth, and when the tears had all dried up, and the words had all been said. When he’d given me enough strength, we took JB out and put him into Michael’s car. I drove with him in my lap in the backseat, and while I made my way to the Heart Tree, Michael went with Joshua to fetch a shovel.

The three of us buried him in somber silence, with me placing one of the Blood Roses that Michael had mentioned on top of the shallow grave.

I would have bled a garden of those roses for him.

 

***

Moonlight poured from the many floor-to-ceiling windows, the silver washed terrace tempting me to leave the comfort of Michael’s guest room bed. I hadn’t even changed out of my red Jegging style Capris, and black avocado, striped Boyfriend Tee.

When a knock came at the door, I turned my head, my eyes heavy from the tiredness hitting me; yet my mind couldn’t stop turning from all the terrible images. Save for the one of Michael holding me.

“Come in,” a weak little voice came from my throat, and Michael entered through the door, dressed in a not-so-formal gray t-shirt and black pants with drawstrings.

“You can go there any time, you know,” he glided over to the foot of the bed and sat down, looking towards me. “I don’t care if you hate my guts,” he informed me, “or if we don’t like each other. Or don’t work,” Michael swallowed. “Any time you need to see him, you come down here,” he consoled, “or you call me.”

“Thank you,” I sniffed, feeling it burn and rip at my chest, my heart wanting me to say it louder, and with more warmth. But at the same time, it felt like I could never express my gratitude for how he handled things with me tonight. “Michael?” I asked. He perked up and locked eyes with me, pursuing me to continue. “Can you fix me something stiff?” It took me a second to get my own unintentional pun. “I, I mean a drink,” I laughed, surprised that I was even able to do that much.

He chuckled darkly, “I knew what you meant.” He got up from his spot and smirked, “not that I couldn’t do either or. Or both for that matter,” he added before walking away from me smartly.

Not long later, and he returned with a relaxed swagger, holding two expensive amber colored drinks in each hand. He sat one on the end table by my bedside, next to the vase, and then moved back to the bed, up against my feet now.

A thought between the others crept in, having me wish that my feet weren’t under the blanket so he could rub them.

“What is it?” I asked, taking the tumbler in my hand and sniffing. There were rich notes of dried fruit behind the strong smell.

“That’s a McCallan 1939. Scotch. You’re drinking a couple thousand dollars.” The sound of crickets chirping bled through the terrace outside. “I don’t normally drink,” he revealed. “Too dangerous for me.”

The scotch went down surprisingly smooth, and I felt it burn wondrously through my throat. “It feels stupid to ask,” I said absently, blinking at my dry eyes. “But did you ever own a dog?”

“I didn’t,” he replied artfully.

“You’re very good at that, you know.” I remembered then what Lambert had said, on skirting around subjects.

He sipped his drink, “I’m good at everything that I do,” he quipped narcissistically.

“Right,” I replied, amazed at how dry my tone could be after having spent so many of my emotions. “I mean you’re good at not answering me. The way you said it made it sound like someone around you did.”

Michael took a long swig now, and the energy of the room became heavier. “You’re right,” he admitted, “it’s something that I didn’t mean to become quite so good at.” He pushed out a breath through his nose, and the crickets began to chirp louder, becoming more and more in sync. “That’s just something...” his voice trailed off as he looked away from me.

“Look at me,” I insisted quietly, not wanting to miss the glimpses into the every detail that he was.

Michael returned his gaze to me, his lips not offering even a cocksure smirk. “It’s something that was cut into me,” he explained, “I was young once.”

“You still are.”

“Right,” he replied, “but when I was being taught how to fence at one of my father’s, now owned, prestigious academies, there was a girl that I sparred with.” Clouds shifted outside, and they played with the mysterious moonlight and their respective shadows. “It all adds up,” he mentioned beneath his breath, “I think you’d rather hear this anyway.”

“You don’t have to tell me it all,” I responded kindly, “just whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’m not, though,” Michael cocked his head to the side, and he polished off his drink greedily. “That first day that I met her, she bested me.” He let his head fall back and laughed something deep from his chest, of which I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes off of.

Downing another few sips of my drink, I sat it down on the table and leaned in closer to him; so close that his heat became mine, and that mine so too, became his.

Michael brought his head back and smiled that of roaring pride. “She was like no one else, I’ll tell you,” for a moment his eyes and his lips gave me a peek into what he was thinking. That he wanted to kiss me like he had before, that he wanted to tell me this story in careful, confidential whispers. “Her name was Morganna Hamilton.” I thought back on the MH initials that I saw before. “And for that whole year straight, we talked from afar, and in person, whenever we would have our classes, both public and private.” He took a breath, and turned closer to me, those sweet, sad eyes never looking from me. “Later, we spent our summer’s together at this estate. Tim was around a lot back then, too. The day’s would bleed away in blue and yellow and green; we would wake up in separate beds, since my father would never allow for any funny stuff. Each morning we would hike through the Wester Woods, climbing trees and banging ourselves up against the elements.”

I beamed at him, because for some reason, his whole energy was becoming infectious. Between the sorrows, Michael seemed happy to be telling me this. I added: “You mean like falling into the Rushing River?”

His smile widened, “Precisely. The next years after that were some of the best of my life; on her sixteenth birthday, I rescued a German Shepard just for her from the shelter. We raised it together, giving it the same adventures that we did in the past.”

“It sounds like you really loved this girl,” I said.

“I really did,” he said emphatically. “I was in love with her, and for a long, long time, there was never anything else. Anyone else,” he revealed those last words tenderly, and he leaned in closer to me. Before I knew it, I was leaning too, and our lips came together like they did before. We crashed into each other, hungry for contact; desperate to taste more, but somehow keeping our instincts in check.

My hands went around him first, feeling his sculpted body against his clothes. We tightened our embrace, and we held each other for a long time, the liquor sitting in my stomach hot. I pulled away from his lips first, and our eyes locked on one another.

This wasn’t just an arrangement.

This was real.

Even though my throat was tight with devil’s love, it was Michael that spoke first. “Let me take care of you.”

“What do you mean,” I croaked, not letting go of him, my lips demanding that they move back to his.

“If you trust me,” he whispered, “explicitly. I’ll show you.”

The moment hung in the air, and my heart answered before my head when I nodded yes.

“Lay here for a bit, and think of me,” he instructed carefully, his eyes drinking in the last images of me before walking out of the room.

He came back twenty or so minutes later, though I hadn’t checked exactly. When he returned to me, he had a blindfold for me to wear - he asked me if I sure once again, then put it on me.

This blindfold was quickly becoming an acquaintance of mine.

We walked through the halls of his great house, my feet padding against the cold marble flooring. After a spell, we came to a stop, and he guided me gently through some doorway. From the sounds in the room, I recognized where we were. Heat kissed at my cheeks and between my legs when the memory of this place flooded my mind. This is where I first saw him in all of his... natural glory.

“Why are we here?” I asked sheepishly, already knowing where this was heading. My mind turned against me, telling me to run, instructing that I flee from this place.

But my heart said to keep going.

“We’re here for us,” he said in my ear, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly, pulling me against his hard body. “If you’re ready, Jane, squeeze my hand. If you’re not,” he pressed against me further. “I’ll let you go.”

Don’t let me go was what I wanted to say. But I couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to stand. So I just did as he told me, and gripped his hand with all the strength that I had.

Michael removed the blindfold.

Wow...

There were rose petals scattered throughout the bath, and a dozen or so scented candles strewn around the outside, giving the pool an intimate and inviting appeal. “You’ve never seen this place at night,” he chuckled to himself, moving a hand over to a switch and flicking it.

Illuminations of blue breathed into life throughout the room, reflecting up from the water and giving me a clear look at the limestone floor beneath the bath. It gave the whole room an ethereal, almost magical look.

He put his hands on my waist then, turning me so that I could lock my gaze with his.  Just having him look at me the way that he did, it was enough to ignite a hunger the likes of which I’d never truly known. Made me tight between my legs; made me aware of every sensation of warmth surging up and against my breasts.

He made me feel like a woman. Like a person that could, and was meant to be loved or adored or cherished.

“Don’t run,” he whispered soft as an angel’s breath, “don’t you ever run from me. If you need me to stop,” he promised, “then I’ll stop.” I think that I nodded my head in acknowledgement, but in that beautiful moment I was barely aware of myself. His fingers went up the hem of my shirt, brushing sensually against my skin as he gently lifted it skywards and above my head. Michael tossed the shirt to the ground, revealing my black bra and bare skin. He pulled me in closer against him, melding our warmth. I wrapped my arms around his waist and let his hands go down to my ass, squeezing me down there before bringing me into a passionate kiss; our lips coming together in a tender, raw clinch. I kissed him freely, wildly, and with everything that I had. Tried to make up for all the time that I lost with all the people that I never knew; the softness of his lips, the flicker of his tongue against mine – the pure taste of him. It was all sinfully intoxicating, and I couldn’t see myself ever getting enough.

With his hands squeezing my butt hard, I had to fight the urge to jump up and straddle him. I let my hands move further down his toned back, wanting to rip off the gray shirt that he was still wearing. He moved from my lips and down past my chin, trailing kisses down my wanting neck, licking up to the lobe of my ear and pulling on it with his teeth.

Shivers of pleasure and pain and hopeless seduction rolled through me; I let out a soft moan before going to his neckline and exploring the delights of his skin. Sucking, tasting, nibbling curiously, pushing all the bullshit and bad thoughts from my head.

He was helping to purge the darkness inside of me. And I didn’t want to lose that.

Not now. Not ever.

“Jane...” he breathed, undoing my Capris and helping me shimmy out of them. “You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he revealed, drinking in the image of my body. The way he looked at it filled me with a simple ecstasy. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. That--” he paused, subtly biting on his lip. “It scares me. Frightens the hell out of me how badly I need you.”

“Don’t be scared,” I assured, feeling licks of fire against my sex. “You’re everywhere in my head. Every nook, every cranny, every dark little corner… you’re there,” I confessed, carefully stripping off my black panties and letting him be the first man that I’d ever willingly do that for. When I stepped out of them, he sucked in a tight breath and loosed a throaty growl.

I pressed myself up against him, wanting his hand between my legs. Needing to feel that crushing intimacy that I never knew I could have. He needed to feel how wet I was getting for him.

Just for him.

Damn, was every guy supposed to be so obviously big down there? I could feel his manhood poking through his drawstring pants. I sent a hand down to rub up against it curiously; his one hand still on my ass while another worked on the snaps of my bra. When it slid off of my body, Michael snatched my hand and moved it away from his bulge, putting both of my hands behind my back and kissing hungrily from my neck down to my breasts. He moved his mouth artfully around the both of them, licking across them, suckling on them, making me anticipate the feeling of his mouth or tongue against my nipples.

I could feel my heart thumping in my chest when he finally placed his mouth over my right nipple, taking it gently into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it in a teasing manner. His green eyes looked up to me, the soft blue light of the room cascading against his magnificent face. When he started to pull back on my nipple with his teeth, I winced and placed a hand on the crown of his head; I let my fingers trail through his gorgeous hair, urging him to move down between my legs.

But he did not abide.

He pulled harder still on my nipple, putting me right on the edge of feeling too much. Stoking the lust between my legs and getting me soaked.

Finally, he released. “I could taste you all night,” he purred, giving my nipple a nurturing lick before trailing his way down between my legs. “Sit,” he commanded, laying on his back and grabbing my legs to force me into position. I straddled his face, spreading myself, opening myself in such a revealing way to a man; I could hardly contain the frenzy of emotions stewing inside of me. What if he didn’t like the way that I looked? Or the way that I tasted or smelled?

I had to try and focus on the beating of my heart. On the determined look in Michael’s eyes.

That first lick. Oh, God.

The first press of his tongue up against me shot through me like an archer nailing it’s mark. His tongue made a long, tasting lick from my opening up to my clit; within a heartbeat he was eating me out like he hadn’t tasted something so divine before. He kept eye contact with me, and I knew that he could see my cheeks blushing. Knew what he was trying to tell me with just one look: I love you. I love you and I am never going to stop. Between my moans and writhing, at some point in my ecstasy, I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of his mouth and his tongue slurping against my wet pussy.

The heavy and dark mists in my head and heart lifted, and all my jumbled thoughts were cut away.

It was impossible for me to focus on anything besides the raw connection. Besides the filthy, erotic way that Michael was taking my body.

I needed to taste him too. Needed to suck him off and feel him in my mouth.

My eyes opened when I felt Michael lift me, his mouth covered in my tantalizing juices. “You taste fucking amazing,” he praised, “you warn me when you’re going to come. Understood?”

“Yes,” I mewled, “please. Just don’t stop.” He brought me down again, and I pushed him harder by his head against my sex. This time he was giving it everything that he had; pulling on my clit, slipping his middle finger deep inside of me, having my tight walls greedily cling to that finger. I was aching for him now. Aching to feel his cock inside of me.

Burning to feel him plunging in and out of me while I came around that glorious thing that was mine. Every now and again I would look over to it, watching it stand erect for me against those pants; picturing how I wanted to bob up and down on it while he ate away at me.

Fuck. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get off again with just my fingers. He was corrupting me in a very permanent way right now. If him attacking me with his mouth was this good…

“Oh. Fuck,” I resounded, “Michael. M-Michael please. I c-can’t hold it any longer.”

Michael pulled his mouth from me then, strings of white and clear juices bridging the gap between him and my pussy. “Not yet,” he instructed, “you don’t get to come until I’m inside of you.” He set me down on the floor like I was but a plaything in his strong hands, leaving me spread eagle and eagerly awaiting his next move.

When I went to send my fingers down to my clit as he was getting up, he shot me a look of dangerous warning. “No,” he commanded, quickly taking off his shirt in one fluid motion, revealing his chiseled body beneath that shone with the ethereal blue lights. “You’re not allowed to touch yourself. Not yet,” he said, peeling off his black pants and subsequently stripping off his gray boxers.

While he retrieved a condom and rolled it over his erection, it seemed like taking my eyes off of his gorgeous and thick cock was an impossible task. I bit down on my lip and kept my hand steady at my bellybutton, trying hard as hell to keep myself controlled for him. I didn’t understand why, but I liked the way that he was speaking to me. Telling me what to do and how to do it.

Within the span of a couple of breaths, Michael stepped forward, giving me all the earthly delights of seeing his body work. If he threatened to taste me all night, I was damn near ready to taste him into next week. He lifted me up underneath my arms, picking me up to my feet, then moved his hands to my hourglass waist and lifted me into the air, pulling me against his body.

Feeling his hard cock twitching beneath me, begging for entrance into my slick-with-need pussy, I wrapped my legs instinctively around him. Michael moved his hands down to my ass and supported me while I reached a hand down for his cock and guided it as best I could to the entrance of my sex. When I felt the head of him pressing up against me, he eased the first couple of inches into me, spreading me open and having us both gasp from the pleasure.

“God damn you’re tight,” he declared, thrusting in half of his shaft and making me groan from the pleasure and the pain.

“More,” I whimpered, forgetting to add a please.

“You’ll take it all, baby,” he said sotto, as I wriggled my hips yearning to feel the rest of him inside of me.

“Please,” I begged, “you’re so hard for me,” I breathed, wishing I knew what to say. Hoping that he wouldn’t realize this was my first real time having someone inside of me.

Someone that loved me.

“Hard for your beautiful pussy,” he encouraged, filling me up to the base of his cock. God it was good. I could feel my core tightening up and wanting to release, my whole body tingling with pinpricks of bliss. “Bite into my neck,” he ordered, pulling himself out of me, the sound of his cock slipping out of my pussy was just about all I could focus on.

“God. I need to feel you move,” I purred, moving my mouth to his neck and sinking my teeth into his flesh, sucking and tasting and pressing down hard while he stirred me up. His cock glided in and out of me at a steady pace, my petite lips clinging to the length of his soaked shaft, not ever wanting to let it go. For each time that he thrust into me, I let out a muffled whimper, sucking and clamping down harder against his neckline.

“Harder, Jane,” he growled, pumping himself in and out of me with a reckless abandon now, his balls clapping against me and urging me to try and grind my hips to his movements. “That’s it,” he praised. “Yes, just like that. Fuck this cock like you mean it. Don’t you dare fucking stop,” I continued to grind against him, digging my nails into his backside; unsure if I was being too primal or not.

The walls of my pussy tightened around him as he used me for all I was worth, and I found myself lost to the coming tides. There was no way I could hold back any longer. “Jesus, I can’t take it anymore!” Every part of me was ready to explode around him now.

There wasn’t another soul in the world that I wanted to give myself to. “You going to come for me?” He asked in that coarse voice, squeezing my ass hard, bucking into me with every ounce of his energy. “Come for me,” he demanded. “Come around this fucking cock,” every dirty word that he rasped in my ear was like a spell; enchanting me, urging me onwards to pleasures I’d never known.

“Oh fuck.” The release consumed me whole. Swallowed my mind into a state of perfect nothingness. I felt my toes curl up first, the lightning in my feet shooting up my whole body – right along my spine and straight to the back of my head. We came together in the chorus of our own moans, my body trembling against his – the linings of my pussy contracting hard as I felt the cum seeping out of me and rolling down his covered cock.

I sank against his body while he groaned, letting him hold my dead weight while I felt his softening, spent cock inside of me. Part of me wanted to cry against his shoulder; my naughtier half wanting to try and push him down and ride him. “You’re still hard,” I murmured, laughing softly into his skin and inhaling his spellbinding scent. I said it again, and he just rumbled happily, not unsheathing himself from my soaked tightness.

“Not done yet,” he teased through a ragged breath, lifting me off of his cock. It was difficult to resist a whimper at that. “Gotta get you clean,” he smiled at me, pressing a phantom finger of heat against my heart.

He carried me in his arms and sat me down on the edge of the bath, letting me dip my feet into the pleasantly warm water. Not a second later and he unrolled his condom, dropping it to the floor and sharing a look with me, suggesting that he’d get it later.

Michael stepped into the pool first, grabbing my hand and pulling me in, causing me to hoot in excitement when I became submerged. He pulled me along through the waters, the both of us still full of the afterglow. When we got to the lion head fountains, he propped me up on it’s surface just beside one of the flowing spickets, letting me cuddle up against him. “Thank you,” he whispered in my ear, the ravenous hunger from before still evident in his tone. “For giving yourself to me like that.”

“I don’t do that for just anyone.”

“I can tell,” he reached over for one of the bars of lime scented soap, rubbing it over my legs. “You’re a stunning woman, Jane.” I could feel his cock still twitching for more beneath me, though it was only at half mast now. “You should never deprive yourself of those pleasures.”

“I never wanted to know them,” I confessed, taking his face in my hand and placing a long kiss on his lips. He returned it in kind, still giving to me that insatiable passion for more; Michael sent his free hand over to my sex and cupped me like he owned me.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him how much I liked that; perhaps it scared me to think of a man ‘owning’ me, but if there was ever a person… it felt like he was the one.

The one. Such a foreign concept, but so delightfully enriching.

Michael sucked on my tongue before pulling away and searching my eyes. “I want to know you like that. More than anyone else in your life.”

My heart felt heavy with a sweet sadness. If only he knew how truly broken I felt on the inside; I could sense the pain inside of him, and I was certain that he could sense it in me as well. Even if I was able to do it tonight, could I truly continue? Romance. Lust.

Love and a happily ever after? They just felt like concepts for other people to me most of the time.

But I wanted to try with him. If it was a real as it seemed, if we were connected as much as it felt… I have to try. The sound of water crashing against the pool was all that filled my ears while his soapy hand worked up my belly and over my breasts; my nipple was still angry with him from before. Still, it was a good kind of hurt. He stroked my breasts lovingly, washing all along my chest and belly, my sides and part of my back. When I didn’t have the courage to respond to what he said, I instead let my sexual instincts take over, and I moved off of him. I sunk down into the warm waters, letting the suds disperse.

Michael shot me a curious look, his brows lifting, and a smirk forming in sinful understanding when I moved my head towards his crotch. “You haven’t done this before,” he surmised, and I shook my head lightly in reply, never taking my eyes from his while I ran my tongue along the head of his cock.

He tasted of salt and musk, but the flavor of him was oddly exhilarating. I licked down his shaft, watching him get hard from just lightly tormenting him with the thought of my mouth plunging down to his root. His hand raked through my hair sweetly when I moved up and made a tight ‘O’ around the head of his cock, wagging my tongue back and forth over it excitedly. I had to stifle the need to giggle in that time.

Bringing myself down deeper on his manhood, I plunged myself about halfway down his nearly-full erection. There was some basic joy in feeling him grow hard in my mouth, and I was able to feel the tension in my pussy growing with every second that I claimed his dick.

Michael let out a soft, masculine moan and balled up my hair tightly in his fist. “Fuck,” he murmured, “fuck that feels good Janey.” Sayla intruded the space of my head in that second, and I started bobbing up and down on Michael’s cock. “Careful with your teeth,” he instructed, and I consciously made an effort to be more aware of how I moved against him.

I moaned softly as I moved up and down against him, coating him with saliva and aching to feel his touch against my thirsty pussy. After a couple of intimate seconds, listening and feeling to the ways in which he moved against my mouth, Michael pulled me from his crotch and patted the spot beside where he was sitting. I picked myself up, the water shifting and dripping from me as I crawled into position, plunging myself back down submissively on him.

He quickly rewarded my actions by moving his hand over to my ass; rubbing, squeezing, just appreciating my body for all that I was worth. It encouraged me to move faster against his engorged dick, sucking and twirling along it. When his hand dipped down to my damp sex, he stuck a long finger inside of me, pressing it down against my slick wall and making a come hither motion.

“You’re going to make me come,” he growled, fucking my pussy with his finger and making me wish that it was his cock filling me. “I’m going to have that tight pussy again tonight.”

I pressed his manhood along my cheek and made a popping noise when I pulled off of him. “It needs you again,” I said in a low cry, wiggling my ass appreciatively. “Needs you deep inside of it.”

“Back on the cock,” he commanded, forcing my head down on it once more with a renewed vigor. “Suck me off good and I’ll fuck you so hard that you won’t want to get up in the morning.”

Letting the bliss roll through me, I became agonizingly aware of how much I wanted his mouth back on my nipples. How desperately I wanted him to explore every inch of my body, of my mind.

Was I going crazy?

Before I knew it, lightning shot through my every muscle in a quick burst, the soft linings of my pussy contracted around his finger; I pushed myself through the orgasm, and when he warned me that he was about to come, I increased my pace. His cock twitched in my mouth, spilling his warm seed into me while his whole body jerked back, tight, powerful moans escaping his throat.

Different than I thought it would ever taste.

When I released myself from Michael, thick beads of white trickled from my lips and I wiped them off with the back of my hand.

He hoisted me up after a quick breather, letting me sink into his lap while his erection slowly faded beneath me.

Worn out and spent, we cuddled and cleaned each other, the candle lights flicking and the fountain’s water pouring steady into the pool.

The last thing that I heard as I closed my eyes was the sound of his beating heart.