“Are you going to break my heart?” she whimpers. “Are you going to make me cry?”
I shake my head and slide my hand between our bellies until the tips of my fingers touch her jean’s button. “Swear to Christ, you’re not a pawn to me, Maddi. You’re special. My heart is the one that will bleed if you don’t want what I want.”
“What do you want?” she whines. “What, Bry? A fast fuck?”
I shake my head. “A lifetime of fast fucks. A lifetime of pancake breakfasts, and falling asleep watching movies.” I slip my hand into her jeans, and when she doesn’t stop me, into her panties. I give her to the count of three to make this stop, but when all she does is dive back in to kiss me, I plunge my fingers inside her warmth, and groan at how tight she is.
“Oh fuck!” She throws her head back, and shows off the long, delicate column of her neck, but when I lean forward to taste, my hand gets stuck between us.
“Maddi?”
“Take them off.”
She bounces out of my lap like she’s been electrocuted, whimpers when she loses my fingers, then drops her pants like we’ve done this a million times before. She kicks her shoes off, pushes her jeans down and tosses them to the floor, then she climbs back onto my lap and rests on her knees, despite the Band-Aids I forgot I put on them last night.
“I’m scared,” she whispers as she stares into my eyes. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“You’re… uh…” I look down to her crotch. “Um… new at this?”
She shakes her head, takes my hand, and does what I did to her, placing my hand on her heart. She pleads, “Don’t hurt me.”
“I won’t.”
I slide my hand into her panties and find her wet and waiting. Pushing inside, I moan at how my cock pushes against my pants. Sweatpants are legions better than jeans when my cock wants to explode, so I say my thanks for my forethought.
Except, no jeans means no wallet, and no wallet means no condom.
“Fuck.”
She rides my hand and squeezes me tight, and while she does that, my eyes fling around my living room in search of my wallet.
On the coffee table. Only a few feet away.
Thank god.
“Bryan?” She grabs my face and yanks my eyes back to hers. “Pay attention to me for just a damn minute.”
My laugh comes out on a pained croak. “Trust me, I was thinking about you. Lemme just…” With no other options, I pull my hand from her panties for a second time, and toss her to the couch. Then I dive to the coffee table and sweep up my wallet. “Take your panties off, Maddi.”
I snatch the foil packet out and tear the side off with my teeth, and in my peripherals, Maddi lays on her back and kicks her underwear away.
Turns out she doesn’t have ink on her secret areas.
Desperately chuckling, I push the front of my sweats down and draw her eyes to my dick. Resting on her elbows, legs wide open, she studies me, just like I study her. And when I get the condom rolled on, I sit back on my ass and yank her into my lap.
The second she’s on her knees, I pull her head to mine, her lips to mine, and sink into the warmth and steel walls she possesses.
It was always going to be this way; fast and reckless, but certain.
“Oh god,” she whimpers as she lowers over my cock.
She’s tight like a vise, hot like lava. But she’s also perfect, responsive, and the only thing I can focus on in this moment.
When she’s halfway down, and my body threatens to explode, I grab her shoulders and stare into her eyes. For just a second, we stare. Then when she swallows her nerves, I slam her down and let her swallow me up with a cry.
“Fuck!”
Holding her hips, I help her rise to the very tip, then I slam her down again and swallow her cries at what is a sweet pain. Her hair surrounds us, she creates this curtain so that we’re the only two people in here. And for as long as we remain in here, the rest of the world doesn’t matter.
She pushes up to the tip, prepares, and groans when I bring her back down again.
She doesn’t want to slide down. She wants me to control her. She wants me to make it hurt.
“Bry…”
“Mm. Say my name while we do this.” I glide my tongue along her jaw, bite each time I want a taste, and grunt when my bites result in her pussy tightening around me.
I release one of her hips and reach up to massage her tit, but her top is still on, so I release her completely and tear the cotton away. She cries out when her earrings catch. And again when her chin catches, and then her nose. But all I can do is laugh at my lack of finesse.
I toss her shirt away, then come back to see her chest. She wears a black bra similar to – or maybe it’s the same as – the one she took off at the races a week ago. It’s sheer lace, see-through, so I see her nipples through the useless lace, round, peaked, and such a pretty color.
I pull her bra below her tits, prop them up with the lace, then I pull one between my teeth and nibble while she rests her hands on my shoulders and rides.
“You taste so sweet.” I suck her nipple until it peaks and turns rock hard, then I switch and repeat with a groan.
And all the while, she rides me with cries of pleasure.
“Bry.”
“Mm.” I bite her nipple and inhale her scent.
“Bry?”
“Mm?” I lift one breast, mold it in my hand, suck on her nipple like I might die if I stop.
“Bryan!”
I release her tit with a pop and glare with impatience. “What?”
She grins. Takes one hand, and lays it flat over her ass cheek. “Smack me. I like it.”
“Aw fuck.” My cock throbs and grows, my balls threaten to blow. So I toss her off my lap with rough hands, turn her to her hands and knees without apology when she cries out, then I move to my knees and impale her in one smooth move.
She screams into the couch cushions, her hair slides to the side and reveals more ink I didn’t see last night, but then she reaches back and puts my hand back on her ass.
So now I ride her. I wind my arm back with delicious anticipation, then I swing down and smack her till her ass turns red, and her scream vibrates against the cushions. Her pussy clenches tight around me, drawing me closer and closer to the edge. My thighs burn, and my toes tingle, but I slam into her time and time again, shoving her further along the couch with each move. When she’s too far away, I yank her back and push in so deep that her sounds of pleasure turn to pain.
“Fuck!” she snaps. “Shit.” And yet, she pushes back to keep me in when I pull away. She grinds against me, swallows me up, and when I smack her again, she merely sobs and accepts what I give her.
She’s my fuckdoll. Incapable of doing anything but bracing her body as she hugs a cushion and absorbs my every blow.
“You’re so amazing,” I chant, grunt, breathe, try not to blow. “Fuck, Maddi. You’re so perfect.”
“I’m going to go,” she whimpers. “I’m… shit…”
Her ass is warm beneath my hands, her skin marked and raw. But between that, her asshole teases. Puckered and pretty, it presents itself. So I drop a line of spit between her ass cheeks, bring my thumb up to spread it around, and when I touch, she freezes up.