Once, I would have hesitated. I would have thought to myself: no, you can’t, not you. But when he looks at me like that, I get too damn hot. Really, literally hot: my body heats up, my pussy burns, and my nipples tingle with heat.
He takes a step forward, grabs me by the shoulders, and spins me around. Through the tarpaulin-like walls of the gazebo, I can hear the guests. A woman’s voice raised in laughter. A man commenting on how delightful his cigar is.
Maddox leans into my ear and whispers, “Beg for it, Eden. I know you want to.”
What he says is true, I think, stunned for the umpteenth time. I really do want to.
“Please,” I moan, keeping my voice quiet. “Please, Maddox. Please, please, I want it. I need it. Please, fuck me.”
“Damn,” he whispers. He moves his hands up my bare legs to my underwear and pulls them down around my ankles. Red underwear rests upon red heels. He nudges me softly between my shoulder blades. I lean forward and bare my pussy. He grabs the hem of my dress and pulls it up to my hips.
“Keep going,” he sighs.
“Please,” I whimper. “Please, please, please.” My pussy is wet now, soaked at his touch, at how he commands me, at how he makes me his. “Please, Maddox. Please, please. I want it. I need it. I want it. I need it!”
I grip the edge of a pack of sparklers, my red-painted fingernails cutting into the cardboard.
“Oh, fuck,” Maddox whispers. His belt buckle jangles and rattles as he fiddles with it, and then the fabric of his pants crumple as he drops his trousers. He steps close to me—and I draw in a desperate breath.
His cock, rock-hard, brushes my clit.
“Beg,” he says. “Beg for it.”
Lips trembling, I go on, “Please, please, Maddox,” I moan.
Outside the gazebo, people continue talking:
“Oh, yes, sure, sure…”
“Ten million! Ha! I could get…”
“I wonder if she’ll be here tonight….”
I ignore them; keeping my voice low with effort. “Please, please.”
His cock moves lower than my clit, and he thrusts.
Fuck!
He slides into me in one quick thrust, and my pussy, so used to him now, opens up immediately for his pleasure. His huge cock fills me, stretches my lips, and slides all the way up to my sweet spot. He holds it there, still, for a moment.
Reaching up, he grabs me by the shoulders. “It’s going to be hard,” he says, voice shaking. “But you can’t scream.”
Then he slides out, grips my shoulders in his strong hands, and fucks me harder than he ever has before. He pulls me toward him by my shoulders as he thrusts, pounding into me, his huge cock like a hammer pummelling my sweet spot. I push backward on him, push and push and push. People are just out there, I think, and that intensifies the pleasure. People are right out there, talking. They have no clue what we’re doing. No clue how naughty we’re being.
He pounds and pounds and pounds me…
The idea that we’re close to other people who have no clue what we’re doing makes me hot, so hot, and hotter than I would’ve guessed. He moans softly, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from screaming out. My ass slides down his cock and smacks against his abs with a quiet slap. Over and over: slap, slap, slap! And then my pussy goes tight – tight, tight, tight, oh, fuck, so tight, so tight – and I feel the release like water behind a dam. The dam is going to burst. Fuck, yes, yes!
I bite down on the tip of my tongue—and then the orgasm releases, the water bursting from the dam, and everything goes quiet and still for a second. I forget about the people outside, forget where we are, and cum hard all over his cock. He keeps fucking me as I cum, but as soon as the orgasm is over, and I’m panting, hunched forward, he lets out a long moan and cums inside of me.
“Fuck, Eden,” he sighs, sliding out of me.
I smile, turning to him. “Fuck.”