mr. badboy

Part 38

"Hold on, peach," he says, pulling down his pants and boxer briefs until his cock bobs freely, so dark and rigid. I love him like this, so raw, thick and all for me.

He holds himself at my opening and waits for a few beats. I can feel the heat coming between us, the way his eyes burn into me, until his gaze drops to his cock as he's about to push its stiff length inside me. Before I can urge him in, my fingers tightening their hold on his back, he pushes with one large, powerful thrust.

I can't help the cry that escapes from my lips, and then the soft "oh," as he slowly, agonizingly, pulls himself out, his cock absolutely drenched.

He eases himself back in, a few inches at a time, his lips brushing over mine.

"You're really something, you know that?" he whispers against my mouth, his words breaking off into a groan. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

My heart catches high in my throat. I can't speak, I can only feel, and the intense gaze of his eyes tells me that something is happening, something new. His eyes continue to burn as he pushes himself in and out, pumping steadily. He grabs my chin lightly and holds my face, making sure I can't break eye contact, can't look away. It's nearly embarrassingly intimate, the way his stare feels like he's stripping me bare.

Our moans are hushed, our breathing rough and ragged as he moves inside me, his hips circling so he hits each and every tightly wound nerve inside me.

It's so fucking good.

It's everything.

We are joined, connected and the more he thrusts in, deeper, deeper, the warmer he feels, like fire, barely contained. A bead of sweat rolls off his nose and finally his eyes pinch closed as he approaches his climax, his mouth going for the crook of my neck where he bites and sucks and grunts as he pounds me, each thrust getting faster than the last.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he hisses, inhaling sharply. "I'm coming."

Before I even have a chance to try and catch up, he lets go of my waist and slides a finger over my clit, petting it twice, and that's all it takes to set me off like dynamite.

I explode outwardly, until I feel like there is nothing left and he explodes into me. I can feel him inside, hot and potent as I throb mercilessly around him, my nails digging so hard into his shoulders as I ride him out I know they're going to leave marks tomorrow.

My heart is huge, filled with stars and bliss.

This man. This gorgeous specimen of a man, who fucks me with all he has.

I want this man forever.

"Blake," I whisper, trailing off because I can't catch my breath, because I know what I want to say but I don't know how to say it.

He's breathing heavily into my shoulder and I run my fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it, loving everything he is.

"That feels so good," he murmurs.

"Better than the sex?"

"Nothing is better than that." He lifts up his head and gazes at me with sated eyes. He gently brushes this thumbs over my cheeks. "I don't know how to top that."

He's got that look I love in his eyes, the one only I bring to him. Sleepy, relaxed, happy. Absolutely satisfied. But there's tenderness brimming underneath, something rare and beautiful, like a key that makes my heart want to burst free, like a bird from a cage.

I smile shyly, suddenly feeling like it's all so much, too much, and if he wants to he can just reach into my soul and walk around in it, examine every inch of who I am and then just walk away.