Surprise Daddy

The words I can’t form tell him surrender is just a heartbeat away.

Those blue fires in his eyes intensify, and he grabs my hands. He pins me to the bed. His hips go rabid, thrusting like they’re fully possessed. They finish me.

The fireball he’s lit in my belly explodes, careening through the rest of me. My body hitches to his and I’m a convulsing mess, entirely undone by the unstoppable O ripping through me.

It’s an eternity before it stops. Marshal sees to that, shoving my wrists deep into the mattress, grunting every time I bite the pillow to stop the screams, fucking like a piston. He wants my O harder, faster, deeper.

He thrusts through my pussy clenching his cock. Undaunted, feral, fueled by animal want.

My body is fried on so many levels, and we’re nowhere near done. It’s incredible how I still want – no, need – him to finish.

I don’t understand it, but I do.

Marshal’s next kiss is heavy. His tongue chases mine, says we’re not done until he’s given me some of that fire torching his veins.

His next few thrusts are electric, more deliberate than before. Growling, he lets my hands up. Seizing my legs, he throws them over his shoulders, lending better leverage.

His huge inked body becomes a hammer. He crashes into me, his huge chest rising and falling faster.

He rocks me to my very core.

Nerves I didn’t know I had dance. Pulse quickens. Every bone in my body sings. My fingernails push into the soft sheets, seeking coolness, relief from Marshal’s firestorm.

It’s the contrast, two delicious sensations colliding, that rips open the sky and showers us in ecstasy.

My legs tremble, tuned to the thunder welling in his throat. “Come for me, Red. We come together. Right the fuck now!”

Vicious words. They’re dirty, roughness in my ears, and also irresistible.

“Marshal!” His name is a hoarse whisper. It’s the last thing I recognize before everything turns blinding white.

Release comes, fierce and incandescent.

Shaking, sweating, clutching at each other, we give in. We give all.

My legs pinch his waist and he bows up inside me, pouring his heat into the condom. It’s hotter than anything.

His cock sinks into me, throbbing, and I look up. Marshal’s jaw pinches tight as his body shudders. His seed flows like madness itself leaving him.

Then there’s a tense peace on his face. A relief. Like all the burdens corroding him from the inside-out are vapor. It’s unexpected, beautiful, and it makes me come harder.

Relief is infectious, too. There’s an afterglow waiting once my spasms wane; happy, soft, and freeing.

His grip is looser, but his eyes are still glued to mine. I reach up, stroking his big arms. Then I find his hand, push my fingers through his, holding on and waiting for him to leave a new empty ache in my body.

His hips roll back, untangling us slowly.

“Shit,” he whispers.

Oh, no. It can’t be that bad pulling out, right? But the second my eyes hit the space between us, noticing the soft smear on the tip of his cock, it’s my turn to echo his soft curse.

“Shit!”

Fingers trembling, I reach between my legs. There’s something thick and hot spilling out of me, far too much to be natural.

“Fucking condom broke,” he growls. “Hang on.”

I watch all six feet of his hard, gorgeous body rise. He carries the mess in his hand to the bathroom. I hear it hit the trash and then the running water.

It’s a strange background track to contemplate the myriad ways my life could change after tonight. Unintended consequences never seemed so real.

Of course, I can’t just let it happen.

I’m sitting on the bed when he comes out, fingers combing his dark hair with his fingers. “Darling, I’m sorry. That’s never happened before. Haven’t even boned for the better part of a year. What are the odds?”

“Nothing we need to worry about,” I say, smiling as I pat the bed. I wait for him to calm down and sit next to me. “Remember June at the clinic? Front desk? We’re still on friendly terms. I’m sure she’ll help me get some Plan B. It pays to have a direct line to the pharmacy.”

He stares for a second, then reaches over, takes my hands, and lifts them to his lips. The kiss he plants on my wrists, one at a time, is exactly what I need to calm down. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal. It’s nothing I can’t handle, Red.”

Is he talking about the possibility – even with the drug – that I could wind up pregnant? No way.

That’s not happening. Still, it’s sweet, in its own weird, wonderful, panicky way.

Apparently, I didn’t just sleep with a beast who made my first time memorable because he’s so damn good at it.

I slept with a good heart. It’s there somewhere, buried behind the body sculpted by war, torment, and dark black ink coiled across his skin like serpents.