Big Man's Contract

I think it’s over. He’s made his point. He can make me come. Is that enough revenge for him? I’ve only barely caught my breath when he stands up, startling me at the speed in which he gets off his knees. His hands are a flash of movement and suddenly his pants are unbuttoned and his dick is out. My mouth hangs open when I see his size. Long and straight and absolutely … perfect. There’s no other way to describe it. If I were to try to wrap my fingers around it, I doubt my thumb would touch my middle finger. That’s what I’ve been missing this whole time? I really should have had sex with him back in high school. Though, back then I might not have been able to handle that much.

He barely gets the condom on before he’s turning me around, bending me over the table. I wait for the thrust, for the loss of breath and possibly the tinge of pain from being filled with something so large. Instead he presses slowly against me. I’m wet and ready. The first inch presses against me, opening me up and it’s pure heaven. I moan loudly as he pushes deeper inside of me, filling me up, stretching me in the most wonderful way. He holds my hips, keeping an even tempo as he moves in and out. I close my eyes, loving the way he feels, and the way my breasts press against the cold table top. He starts to move faster. When he thrusts hard, bottoming out, I can’t help but scream. He must like the sound of it, because he continues with his thrusts. My ass slaps against his body. He holds each of my ass cheeks, spreading them so he can go even deeper. This sudden intrusion takes my breath away, makes me gasp for air. And then I’m coming again. My entire body starts to shudder involuntarily, eyes rolling in the back of my head. At first I think he came too, but I don’t think he has. All of the fluid dripping down my thighs is from me. He’s wearing a condom, containing everything. I enjoy it more than I should. I didn’t want to love sex with a man who gives me ultimatums.

He continues his bombardment until my orgasm passes and everything is just pure bliss. We’re at it for an hour before his breathing starts to change. The sounds coming from him are animal-like, feral. Then he stops and I feel his cock pulsing inside of me. If he weren’t wearing a condom, he would be filling me up right now. Part of me wishes I could feel that too.

He slips off the condom and tosses it in the trash. I smooth down my messy hair and go to the bathroom to clean up. After all of that I feel awkward. When I get into the woman’s bathroom, I lean against the door and close my eyes. Remembering the way he felt inside me turns me on again even though I’m sore from going at it for an hour. I can’t stop thinking about how good he felt. Kissing him was equally as thrilling, though. I hate to admit that to myself. I hate to admit any of this. His kiss was wonderful, intimate … loving in a way. Not what I expected from a man who must really hate me for how I treated him in the past. That amazing kiss, along with the mind-blowing sex and his dark good looks, I’m going to have to keep my head on straight. My control could easily slip away from me if I allowed my walls to come down for even a moment. I can’t—won’t—let that happen with Madden.

I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face. Looking in the mirror, I can see the glow after sex, the spark in my eyes that wasn’t there before I arrived in Pepperhill.

“Get your shit together,” I tell my reflection. Standing up straight, I check my clothes and smooth my hair down yet again before going back out into the bar.

Madden looks put together, not disheveled the way I am. Then again, he didn’t take a pounding like I did. He looks gorgeous and I would love nothing more than to grab him by the shirt collar and drag him back to that table for round two. But I don’t dare do that.

“It’s late,” I say, noting how dark it has gotten outside. “We should get some rest. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

Madden laughs. He stalks toward me and everything starts to tingle again. God, I want him again. When he stands in front of me I can see the muscles beneath his tight shirt. I remember the power in those muscular hips. Oh the self-control it takes to not wrap my arms around his neck and jump on top of him, clinging to his body like a second skin.