Battle

Nerves and desire confuse my thoughts, but ultimately my arousal wins out, seeking relief from the constant throbbing. I slide my fingers through my wet folds, arching my back and cry out in wanton pleasure.

He sits on the couch, inserting one of his fingers slowly inside of me, while I massage my clit beneath my fingertips. “Watch,” he says.

I look down, watching his finger move in and out of me with long strokes, and deflate when he withdraws it completely. I dig my teeth into my lower lip as he takes my hands, presses them to my core, and guides my index fingers between my lips. He pushes my fingers outward, splitting my folds and exposes my tightly budded clit.

“Stay just like that,” he says, lowering his head.

His warm tongue presses flat against my core before he swipes upward. My hips lift, but I keep my hands in place—the most intimate part of my body bare to him. Pleasure surges through me as his tongue licks up and down, and side to side,

over and over until I can no longer hold myself open for him. Until I’m no longer able to think beyond the pleasure.

I let go, digging my nails into the cold leather couch. His fingers quickly replace mine, spreading me open again as he continues to bring my body to orgasmic bliss, which only takes another second.

My muscles compress tight as a wave of unbridled, raw passion ripples through me from head to toe. He inserts two fingers, my pussy clamping around them, as the onslaught of pleasure comes in sets. The waves envelop me in sheer blessedness, until eventually, I’m moaning his name in heavenly cries. I ride out the slow descent from climax in a dazed fog until my body goes limp.

Before I catch my breath, Battle’s body covers mine as he sinks slowly inside of me. I have no idea when he put on a condom, but I feel the latex.

“I’m going to fuck you now, and when we’re done, I’m going to take you again from behind so I can look at your glorious ass.” His lips trail lightly along my jaw, stopping at my ear. “And later tonight before you fall asleep, and in the middle of the night, and first thing in the morning.” He withdraws his cock half way and stops. “You sure you want to be wanted, sweetheart?”

His confession about his sexual appetite will not deter me. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life. I claw into his ass, bringing my hips up. Our bodies meet with a slap as he fills me again. “Yes,” I say, looking directly at him.

With a smug grin, he rocks his hips forward, his eyes never leaving mine as he delivers on his promise—then again from behind, when I discover, I do in fact like to be spanked. And before bed, and the middle of the night and, with a smile in the morning.

A simple game of dice transformed my relationship with Battle, and my sex life. Over the next six weeks, I experience stages of orgasm I never knew were possible, and discover Battle isn’t the only one of us with an unsustainable appetite.

I can’t get enough of him, and I don’t want to.

Battle was more than delighted when I shared I was on the pill, expressing his disdain for condoms. He went a step further and visited the doctor for a checkup. I offered to do the same, but he laughed and said how cute I was. I did it anyway. Wyatt was unfaithful, and I wanted the peace of mind.

After a shower together, in which we ran the water cold, I prepare food in the kitchen for a barbecue we’re hosting today at his ranch. He slips in behind me, brushing my hair to the side, his other arm slipping around my waist. His warm breath caresses my skin as he kisses my neck. “Let’s skip the barbecue,” he whispers.

I spin as his hands grip the counter on both sides of me.

“We have guests showing up in fifteen minutes,” I remind him.

He slides the salad bowl out of the way before his hands cup my ass. I’m hoisted on the counter as his hips push forward splitting my thighs. He growls in my ear, nipping at my earlobe and whispering dirty thoughts—words that wet my panties. “We’ll put a note on the door—‘party’s cancelled’.”

I laugh, but if I’ve learned anything about Battle during our time in the middle, it’s that when it comes to sex he never jokes. He’s dead serious right now, and when he reaches up under my dress, stroking the outside of my moistened panties, he knows I’m willing.

Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I avoid his shimmering eyes. If I look into them, I’ll say yes. As much as my body yearns for him, I haven’t seen Marty and Ginger in weeks. I miss them.

“You better start the grill,” I say, pushing my palms into his chest.

He groans, pulling me to the edge of the counter against his erection. My core aches, and my resolve begins to fade. “Please,” I whimper. “I miss my friends.”

His grip loosens as he lifts my chin. Our eyes meet, and I bite my lip. His expression worries me. I’ve never denied him.

“If I’m smotherin’ you, you need to tell me,” he says, his voice strained with worry.

I hold his face tenderly between my hands. “You aren’t smotherin’ me,” I say quietly, but he still looks worried.

“I never want to come between you and your friends.” He cups his hands over mine. “I would never alienate you from them or your family.”

“You aren’t, I promise.” He looks skeptical, and I lower my hands. Some worry remains under his small smile, and I don’t think it has anything to do with me. While I want answers now, I’ll ask for them later. Right now, I want to ease his mind and give him something to look forward to. With a grin, I reach up under my calf-length sundress, and wiggle out of my panties. His head tilts curiously as I hand him the ball of wadded pink satin and say, “Keep these in your pocket.”

Without hesitating, he stuffs them in the right front pocket of his jeans, his eyes on me still. “You’re naughtier than I ever expected you to be.”

“Why, Battle McCoy, do you put women in a sex expectations box?”