Cruel Lover

She doesn’t even respond. She just pushes her ass up from the bed, her hands gripping the sheets tight. The thong is ruined, sticky with her juices, and I take a moment to reach around her and untie the dress, pulling it open.

As I slide it down her arms, I admire the shape of her bare back, split only by the lines of her pink bra, the curve of her dainty little shoulders, the roundness of her hips. Childbearing hips. Is that what they call them? Fuck, I’ve never thought about having children before but right now it seems like the inevitable. I want to fuck a baby inside her right now and I would if I didn’t know I need to prepare her first.

I grab both halves of her ass and spread them apart, pulling the thong aside with my thumb, admiring the tight little hole of her ass, the slit of her pussy.

“Oz, please…” She’s calmed now, pleading, yes, but not to be let go. I don’t think she’d ever forgive me if I stopped now. “Oh, God.”

Her ass wiggles and I grin as I lean forward, smelling the scent of her, dipping my tongue between the bare clam-halves of her pussy, tasting her honey, feeling the texture of her intimate lips. I run my hands over her ass, then move my mouth up, kissing her buttocks, listening to her moan with need as I draw closer.

When my tongue touches her asshole, she gasps, her back arching.

“Oz…”

“Yes, baby. Just go with it,” I tell her, soothing her skin with my hand while my tongue runs around her tight, dark little hole.

She moans and moves, rocking her hips as I worship her ass, then I reach up and unclasp her bra, letting it go loose, and she shrugs out of it. I move forward, kissing the small of her back, watching her shiver as I kiss her ebony shoulder blades, reaching around, cupping her tits, rolling her nipples between my fingers.

“Oz, I want you inside me. I need you. I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know, angel,” I whisper. “But just us. Nothing between us, you understand?”

“But what if…”

“Nothing would make me happier. Say you want it too.” I kiss her neck, gently rolling her to the side until I can look in her eyes, my gaze drifting to her perfect little body, the swell of her tits, the curve of her hips, the little patch of curly dark hair above her slit. “Say you want it like this.”

After a brief pause, she nods. “I want it. I want to see you.” Her hands go to my shirt, fumbling with the buttons. “I want us.”

Chapter Eight

Malta

I sit up, peeling his shirt off his arms and admiring the firmness of his chest, the rough dark hair curling across thick pectorals, the ripples of muscle across his stomach, leading down to…

Involuntarily, I gulp at the sight of that bulge. I felt that last night, when we were on the couch. I felt how big it was. The thought of that going inside me, where I’ve only ever had my own fingers before, is almost frightening.

And almost mind-blowingly thrilling.

I lean forward and put my hands on the bulge, feeling the firmness beneath as I unfasten his belt, pull the button on his jeans and push the two halves aside. Beneath, his cock is hidden behind tight black boxers, a thick ridge leading up to his waist, and I tentatively run a finger along it, watching the way he squirms at that gentle touch.

That’s power.

He might be frightening sometimes, and he might be infuriating too. But I have true power over this man.

“Can I?” I ask, looking up into his eyes as I lick my lips.

He nods. “Yes, baby. Just take it slow.”

I do as he suggests, drawing the waistband of his boxers down gently. Dark hair surrounds the base of his thick shaft, and heavy balls sit beneath. A thick vein runs from the base to the swollen head, and I trace it with a finger, then lean forward and lap once, gently, at the hole in the head. It tastes sweet and salty, a bead of precum spreading over my tongue. I close my eyes as I take it in, my first taste, and then I wrap my hand around his shaft, and take him into my mouth.

He moans as I suckle on his cock, drawing in my cheeks to increase the suction. I squeeze and tease the shaft with my fingers as I pleasure him, enjoying the sharp intakes of breath and the pain when he grabs my hair, pushing himself deeper into my mouth.

“Fuck, you’re a natural, Malta,” he groans, tightening his fingers into my hair, drawing me up. “Play with yourself while you suck me.”

I follow his instructions, slipping a hand down between my legs and finding myself damp and slick. As I playfully squeeze his cock between my lips, biting down to add pressure, I slip two fingers inside my pussy, moaning as I start to massage.