She caught it at the back in a gentle fist.
“This is mine, okay?” she stated, tugging lightly. “From now on, you don’t cut it unless I say it’s cool. Yeah?”
At her words, that tug, his dick started to get hard and his hand moved in a way it didn’t feel like he was moving it. With a mind of its own, it went to hers and took control.
He positioned it, wrapping it around his throat.
Then he lifted his head and locked eyes with her.
“Here,” he forced out.
That syllable was guttural.
“You’ll be here,” he said.
She held his gaze and hers was penetrating.
Deep.
“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he told her.
“Yes,” she agreed instantly.
“Come in you, no glove.”
“Yes,” she repeated.
“You clean?”
She nodded.
“Yeah,” he answered a question she didn’t ask that he was too. “Protected?” he went on.
Another nod.
With that, he moved.
Fast.
He jerked her legs out, yanked her panties down.
She gasped.
He felt that in his dick too.
He dragged her ass to the edge of the pool table, and when he got her there, she lay back, lifted her arms over her head and watched as he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his cock out.
On sight of his dick, her eyes grew dark and she licked her lips.
Oh yeah.
That went right through his cock too.
He spread her legs, moved in, dick in his hand, positioning.
He dropped to a hand on the table at her side, slid the head of his cock through her slick, and finally pressed in half an inch, all while watching her face.
“Baby,” she whimpered.
He pulled away, then pressed in a little further, slid back out, in, not far, and out.
“Ready?” he asked between his teeth, because he was ready.
He was ready at the Taste of Colorado years ago.
He sure as fuck was ready right now.
Ready to take her.
Ready to make her his.
“God yes,” she answered.
No hesitation, smooth and quick, he stroked in to his balls.
She closed around him, fitted and silky.
Oh yeah.
Fuck yes.
She was everything.
Perfect.
Her back left the table, her knees slid up his sides, and she clamped on.
“Calves around the back, Archie, you’re gonna be rode rough,” he warned, voice thick, balls heavy and aching.
She moved instantly to comply.
And Jagger started fucking her.
Hard.
So hard, with each stroke, he grunted with the effort.
Archie tensed her legs and cocked her elbows. She planted her hands in the felt above her head and pushed down as he thrust in, holding himself above her, watching her take his fucking. Her tits bouncing. Her body swaying. He slid his free hand up her belly, over the tank between her tits, and wrapped it around her throat.
She righted her head and they locked eyes.
He fucked her harder.
Immediately, her pussy rippled around his dick and she gasped, “Jagger, baby, I’m gonna—”
She didn’t finish.
Because she was finishing.
Lips parted, head falling to the side, she soared for him, her cunt clutching and seizing, milking his dick as she came.
He pulled out, tugged her legs from around him, yanking one up. He stepped away, pulled her legs back down, then whipped her to her belly. Her feet fell to the floor, and he went back in, bending over her, pressing her to the table, his chest to her back, her soft ass in his groin, his face in her neck.
He wrapped an arm around her hip, part to protect her pelvis from thumping into the table, part to go after her clit.
“Oh my God, fuck, Jag. Yes,” she panted, bouncing back into him as he drove his cock into her.
He went after her throat again with his free hand, using it to push her head back so it pressed into his shoulder as he sucked the skin under his lips.
“Baby,” she whimpered and her clit convulsed, her pussy spasmed, she was coming again, so Jagger finally let himself go.
Cupping her between her legs, he jacked into her until his world wiped clean of everything but his cock and her cunt, that perfect union, his dick jetting, his balls draining, her pussy clenching.
When he came down, he felt her wet tightness holding him, and his first thought was this was the first time he’d fucked that pussy, and it’d be the last pussy he ever fucked.
Other thoughts were on Archie’s mind.
She was prying his hand from her throat, and he worried he’d hurt her, or scared her, but before he could ask, she was positioning his thumb, pressing it deep into the center of her palm.
And she was talking.
“Anahata. Unhurt. Unstruck. Unbeaten. The heart chakra. You. And what I’ll give to you. Tatted forever in the palm of my hand,” she whispered.
Christ.
Fuck.
Christ.
He shifted so he could rest his forehead against the back of her neck.
She shifted too.
So her thumb was pressed dead center in his palm.
“Our life can be at your throat, but I wanna be here, Jagger,” she said. “In the palm of your hand.”
Now he was getting why she kept touching his palm.
“Then you’ll be there,” he told her back.
“When the time comes, you pick my symbol.”
“Okay.”
“Like when the time comes, you give me what you need to let go. I won’t ask again. I’ve come to terms. I’ll wait a day. I’ll wait four decades. Unhurt. Unstruck. Unbeaten. That’s mine to give to you always. You tell me when you trust I can take your hurt and leave you with peace. Not before. In your time. On your terms.”
Christ.
Fuck.
Christ.
He dug his head into her back.
She gave him long moments.
Then she said, “You fuck like a goddamn animal.”
This was not a complaint.
He let out a big breath.
Then he grinned.
Now only semi-hard, he slid out, turned her again, scooting her up for comfort, and bent over her.
She curled her legs around his hips and combed her fingers through his hair, her eyes roaming his face.
His did the same to hers.
She looked sexy, sated, all good.
That had been deep. It had rocked both their worlds.
And there he was, in her arms, and they were both all good.
“Ready for the second-best ride you’re gonna get today?” he asked, referring to putting her on the back of his bike and taking off into the mountains.
“Absolutely,” she answered. “But first, I need a shower, you need to pour me coffee, and also get me off your table or you’re gonna have a cum stain on your felt.”
They would own that table until he died and he would never forget fucking his woman for the first time on it.
But he had the memory.
He didn’t need a physical reminder.
So he lifted her up and she held on with all four limbs as he hitched up his jeans.
Keeping her where she was, he walked her to the bathroom.
He dropped her feet to the tile, took her head in his hands on either side and bent to touch his mouth to hers.
When he was done, he said, “Be back with your joe.”
He did another mouth touch, let her go, turned away, but she caught him by the back waistband of his jeans.