Her lips don’t move from my jaw, her breath fanning over my skin as she begins to move faster, her hips jerking and rolling to her own rhythm. I watch her tits bounce, vowing that next time I’m inside of her, she’s going to ride me so that I can play with her gorgeous pink nipples.
“I’m going to… again,” she whispers.
Letting her find her own release, I play with her clit, my fingers moving faster as I rub even harder against her knowing that she needs that slight bite of pain. She cries out, her thighs shaking as she moves faster and faster until her entire body freezes.
I don’t let her move, instead I keep her where she is by continuing to draw out her orgasm with my hand against her clit and grip her throat tighter, squeezing as she climaxes. When her body finally goes limp, I loosen my grip on her neck, then wrap my other hand around her waist as I bend her slightly, pressing my chest against her back.
Only then do I fuck her. I don’t hold anything back. I take and take from her. She lets out cries and moans with each of my brutal thrusts when I’m close, I know that I want to bury myself deep inside of her and fill her with my cum, but I don’t know if she’s on birth control.
Thankfully, I don’t just go with my feelings, pulling out of her, I watch as she falls forward. Wrapping my hand around my cock, I jack myself and with a grunt, my cum shoots out in ribbons all over her beautiful ass.
She doesn’t move, her body completely relaxes as she lies face down in my childhood bed. Lifting my hand, I place my palm in the center of my cum and slowly spread it around her ass, then between her cheeks.
Slowly, I use two fingers and play with her back entrance. I don’t know what I expect her to do, but what I don’t expect is for her to lift her hips and push against my fingers with a sigh. I don’t stop, it’s too fucking beautiful, my cum coating her ass, then her tight back hole too?
Fuck.
She lifts her head, looking back at me from over her shoulder. Leighton’s face is sweaty, her hair a complete fucking wreck from my hands. Her lips slowly curve up into a grin. “Feels nice,” she says softly.
“Next time I’m going to play with this tight ass, babe,” I warn.
Her cheeks tint pink and she licks her lips. “Yeah, I think I’d like that,” she breathes.
Suddenly, I’m not sure I want the rich bitch in my bed anymore. I think I could have made a mistake. This right here, this sweetness. This is what I’ve been missing.
Chapter Seven
LEIGHTON
My eyes open and I sit up. Looking around, listening to the noises of the house, or lack thereof, I realize that I’m alone. Licking my lips, I lift my hand to my throat. It feels tender, inside and out. Deciding that I need to get up and get some water, I slide out of bed and stand.
My legs are completely wobbly. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, I look around on the floor and find Mountain’s t-shirt from yesterday. Like a weirdo, I reach for the fabric and bring it to my nose, inhaling his strong musky leathery scent.
Slipping the shirt on over my head, I slide my arms through and slowly stand on my still shaky legs. The shirt falls down, hitting me around mid-thigh. Slowly, I make my way toward the bathroom.
Taking care of business, I wash my hands, all while keeping my eyes down. I’m not sure that I want to see the bruises that he’s left on my skin. Pinching my eyes closed, I inhale a deep breath and slowly lift my gaze to the mirror.
I gasp at the sight in front of me. Lifting my hand, my fingers touch the bruising on my neck. You can definitely see the fingertip marks that have started to turn purple. Then, there’s the spot at the center of the base of my neck. It’s purple and shaped just like his mouth.
My lips twitch up into a grin at the sight of the hickey. I don’t know why the sight of his marks on me make me smile, make me feel special, but they do. I am completely aware that it’s totally fucked up to think that, but it doesn’t matter, because that’s exactly how I look at them.
Turning from my reflection, I make my way into the rest of the house, though it isn’t far, this place isn’t that big. I like that. It’s quaint, cozy, and not cold and creepy like my father’s mansion.
Though I would really love an actual pool, I’m not going to complain, especially not after everything that happened between us last night. It was the best I’ve ever had—ever.
This isn’t a perfect situation and I have no idea what is going to happen in the future, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to appreciate the things that I actually enjoy out of this. Because I very much enjoyed what we did, and I hope there is a whole lot more coming my way from Mountain.
The living room is still empty, save for the flat-screen television that is on the wall. Smiling up at it, I shake my head as I look around for Mountain. It’s still eerily quiet in the house. Walking over to the window, I look outside and notice that his truck is gone.
Turning around, I bite the corner of my lip and wonder exactly what the fuck I’m supposed to do now? I could start by picking up a little, I suppose. I never lived in a very nice place when I was on my own, mostly they were shitholes that didn’t do credit checks and rented by the month, sometimes even by the week.
Making my way into the bedroom, I look at the clothes that were once neatly piled on the bed and cringe. They’re everywhere, kicked off, pushed off, just everywhere after last night. Shaking my head once, I inhale a deep breath and start to pick up and organize them again. I still don’t have anywhere to put them.
I look between the clothes, the closet, and the dresser, then back to the clothes on the bed again. I don’t hear him at first, but when he calls my name, I jump and spin around to see Mountain standing at the doorway.
“You hungry, babe?” he asks.
Nodding my head, I lick my lips at the sight of his shirt stretched over his muscular chest, the way his jeans hug his thighs, the way he’s all tall, with thick thighs, rippling muscle on his waist and chest, his arms are huge, and the smirk that’s playing on his lips.
“For food, Leighton, not me.”
“Can’t I have both?” I ask.
He shakes his head, laughing softly. “Later, babe. You’ve got to be sore.”
I clench my thighs together, feeling that ache between my legs and wanting more even still. I shrug a shoulder. “Yeah, but I still want more,” I shamelessly admit.
Mountain lifts his hand, curling his finger in a come-hither motion. My feet move without my brain telling me a single thing. I stop directly in front of him, tipping my head back to look up in his dancing black eyes.
I watch as his gaze flicks down to my throat. I don’t know what I expect him to see when he catches a glance of his bruises, but desire is not what I anticipate and I can’t deny that a shiver rolls through me at the sight.
Mountain extends his finger and touches the hickey in the center of my throat. “Marked you,” he rasps.
“In more ways than one,” I whisper.
He grunts but doesn’t respond to my words. He shakes his head once, his eyes not leaving the mark. “It’s pretty,” he admits on a rasp. “I’m wrong for thinking that, let alone saying it. I shouldn’t have hurt you in that way.”