“I’ll be back. Get comfortable, babe.” His lips are swollen from our kiss, and the bulge in his groin has swelled, but his eyes, those beautiful eyes are haunted. He shucks off his shirt without care, which is unusual since he always tries to hide from me, from everyone, and he puts his scars on display. It’s like a T-rex took its talons and scrapped down his back repeatedly. The scars disappear below the waistband, marking the flesh of his ass.
It’s still the sexiest ass known to mankind.
I’m sitting on the bed, wondering how I can make him feel better, to try to take his mind off everything, and make him feel good for a change. The only idea I have is sexual, and that’s cliché, but he’s always so worried about everyone else. He fixes everyone else.
I want him to be focused on me. I want to show him that he’s on my mind.
The shower turns on, and the spray plummets against the wall. I stand on one leg and try to put weight on the other, but the stitches pull, and I immediately tumble forward. I hold out my hands to catch myself on the wall and pick my foot up off the floor. I want to kick myself in the ass for cutting myself like I did.
I know my journey is a long one, but I’m already better, and I’m asking myself why.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Eric rushes out with a towel wrapped around his waist, and my mouth waters. I want to run my tongue down the divots of his chest, the ridges in his abs. I want his body to own mine and make me new again.
“Um…” Nothing. I was just on my way to make you feel better, and I failed. No big deal. “Just wanted to stretch,” I lie because how embarrassing would it be to tell the truth!
“Jo, you have to be careful. Okay?” He pushes me toward the bed and makes me sit down, then grabs my legs and swings them on the bed.
My eyes are locked on his stomach, watching the muscles move. I bite my lip as he stands, and the V disappears below the white towel. My eyes move until I’m staring at his cock.
He’s just the right size for me.
“You need to behave,” he growls, lifting my chin up with his fingers so my eyes are no longer staring at his thickening cock. I can’t believe how wide it is. I wonder if I can even fit it in my mouth. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jo. You’re healing. I already took you too soon. We need to wait.” His thumb brushes across my bottom lip, and he isn’t staring into my eyes, he’s eyeing my mouth, thinking about taking me anyway even if it goes against what he believes in.
I reach for the towel, hook my thumb around it, and tug the edge free. I watch in earnest as it falls onto the floor, dropping into a pile around his feet. His hard cock bobs free, and even though I’ve seen it before, I’m still in awe. He’s gorgeous.
Absolutely, positively, fucking phenomenal.
“Jo,” he says my name as a threat, and his hand drops to my neck, and then his fingers side down my chest and flick across my nipple. “Today isn’t the day to test me. I’m on edge. I’m pissed off. I’m dealing with too much for you to handle.”
I wrap my palm around him and stroke. He hisses, dropping his chin to his chest as he watches my hand. My fingers can’t touch. I don’t know how I took this monster in my ass or inside me in general, but I did, and I want it again.
“I want to handle you, Eric. I want to make you feel good.” I wiggle toward the edge of the bed and guide my mouth to his cock. The head is wide and a dark blood red from how hard he is. There’s a vein protruding on the side, pumping the angry cock full. I lick my lips, suddenly nervous, but I want to please him more than I want to stop.
“Joanna.”
The sound of my name whispered against his lips has my head tilting up. We lock eyes, and he moans, his eyes rolling back from just a quick glance at me.
“You don’t have to do this,” he says, running his fingers through the sides of my hair, pulling it from the bun I have on top of my head.
I don’t say anything. I flick my tongue out and lick the dollop of pre-cum from the slit, moaning at the salty burst spreading across my tongue.
“Fuck,” he groans, hips thrusting from the wet attention I gave him. His hands tighten around my head. “I’m not going to last with you down there,” he admits and that only spurs me on.
I wrap my lips around the width, mouth stretching wide to accommodate him, and just as I thought, I have to stuff him in my mouth. My eyes water from the pinch of pain in the crease of my lips. Do I have a small mouth or is he really that wide?
“How do you feel so fucking good? Do you have any idea how bad I want to fuck your face right now? Do you?”
I shake my head the best I can and then skim my fingers up his thigh and cup his sack, tugging on it for added pleasure.
He bowls over, grunting when I bob quicker, and his nails dig into my scalp. His hips begin to thrust, small, shallow strokes. “Jo, oh, fuck yes, that mouth.” He gains confidence with every shallow thrust, dragging his cock out more until only the tip of the flared crown is behind my teeth. He pushes forward, sending himself to the back of my throat until I’m gagging and drooling down my chin. “I’m going to fill that mouth, baby. You’re going to fucking take it, aren’t you?”
I don’t answer because I can’t. He pulls himself from my lips, dragging his nerves across my tongue. He pulls free, and my spit drips from his intimidating stalk. He grabs himself and slaps me on each cheek, then my mouth.
I’m the nail to his hammer, and I want him to do whatever it takes to pound me into the damn ground.
“I asked you a question, Jo. You’re going to drink me down, and then you know what’s going to happen?”
“What?” I ask breathlessly, inching toward his cock.
“Then, you’re going to lay on your side. I’m going to slide into that sweet cunt, fuck it, fill it, and go to sleep with my cock buried in you until the next morning.” He doesn’t give me time to answer; he slides himself between my lips again and fucks my face.
Without remorse.
Without second guessing himself.
Without caring if he’s splitting my mouth in two.
And I love every fucking second of it.
“Oh, shit. Jo, oh, fuck. I’m going to come,” he warns and fucks my face harder, his balls swinging and hitting my chin. “Fuuuuck,” he moans, thrusting until he lodges himself in the back of my throat as streams of his cum drown me. I swallow the best I can, cough, gag, choke, and the more sounds of struggle I make around him, the more cum that leaves his slit.
Just when I think he’s done, he pulls out, and I watch a beautiful pearly drop fall from his tip onto the floor. He rips my shirt over my head and unbuttons my shorts before sliding them down my leg, careful not to hurt my stitches. “I want to eat this pussy so bad,” he groans, staring at my wet sheath that’s begging for his attention. “But I know that will hurt your leg, and the last thing I want is to hurt you.” He turns me to my side, my thighs touching, and since the position doesn’t tug on the skin where my stitches are, it feels fine.
He’s always thinking of me even when he’s thinking about himself.
“I do want a taste of this ass first,” he says, nipping at my breast before licking down and around my ribcage. “Don’t move. I don’t want to risk you getting hurt, okay? The moment you feel any pain, you better tell me, or I’m going to spank this ass until it’s raw.” He ends his statement by sucking his lips against my skin. His fingers don’t touch my legs at all, keeping in mind my injuries.