Kisses and Warfare

My breathing picks up, and my hands grip his hair, messing his perfectly slicked back locks, and I grip on as I feel the orgasm building.

Blaze loves it.

I can tell.

Somehow, he manages to stand with himself still inside of me. My legs wrap around his back, my body clinging to him as he slams me back down on his cock, my body rubbing along his as we’re impossibly close right now.

“Heaven,” he says as I cling to him, my body coming undone as he never stops moving. Not once, even when I almost let go, my body becoming so lethargic that he just keeps his strong hold on me and never stops.

When Blaze is done, he holds me with him still inside me.

I manage to unwrap myself from around him and finally stand on the grass, my heels still on as I look up to him. “That was fun.”

He grabs at my chin with his hand. “We should do that again.” He smiles. I like this side of him, the playful side. It suits him.

“Maybe another time,” I say, patting his chest. Turning, I look around to find my discarded dress. When I can’t find it, I spin and see it dangling by one of his long, talented fingers.

“Tell me you’ll see me again?” he asks.

I look to the dress, then back to him. “Do you plan on keeping my dress hostage if I say no?”

“Yes. The possibility is there.”

I place my hands on my naked hips, his eyes assessing every part of my body, then he licks his lips in approval. I watch as his cock hardens again while he incessantly stares at me.

“Tell that bad boy no. I have to go back to my daughter.” I snatch my dress from his hands and smile. “I’ll think about it. I mean, if you make me come like that again, the possibility is there,” I say while sliding my dress back on with a grin.

He tucks himself back into his jeans, then reaches for his shirt and pulls it on.

“I’ll do better. Next time I will fucking be eating that pussy before I fuck it.”

Oh God! I clench my legs together at the thought.

“I need a wipe,” I say as I feel him between my legs, his cum sliding down.

Fuck, I didn’t use protection!

Luckily for me I’m protected against pregnancy, but still that was stupid.

“I’m clean,” he says, guessing what I am thinking. Blaze takes his white shirt off and walks toward me, then he leans down, lifts my dress, and wipes between my legs with his shirt. It’s such a weird gesture that I pause, my hand on his back as he takes his time, making sure I’m clean. He’s gentle before he stands, now shirtless, and I see the marks on his neck from where I gripped onto him too hard.

“It’s only a shirt,” he says.

Walking to the bike, which he slides onto, he tucks the shirt into his back pocket and pats the back for me to get on.

“This could be really, really bad,” I mutter to myself, but he hears me.

“Or, really, really, fucking fun.” Blaze laughs as I throw my leg over and cling myself to his back. He passes me the helmet, and as soon as it’s on, he starts the bike, and we’re off.

I look back at the grass, which holds so many mixed memories for him, and smile.Chapter NineteenBlazeI don’t think I will ever get enough of her. This is true. The way she feels is pure bliss. I’ve never been with a woman who made me feel even the slightest way she makes me feel.

We come to a stop out the front of my brother’s home, and Marcus is already there, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches me.

Katarina gets off and passes me the helmet, the smile not leaving her face. The smile I like knowing I’ve put there.

“You have grass in your hair,” I tell her.

She goes to wipe at it and shakes her head, walking past Marcus to go back inside. I watch her ass until she’s no longer visible, and sigh.

“What’s this?” Marcus asks.

He isn’t one to ask questions, so I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Rochelle made me come ask. So give me an answer before I fucking act like I care.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” I tell him with a smile.

“You’re smiling,” he points out. “Fuck! That’s trouble right there.” He turns to go back in the house, and I grab the discarded helmet, ready to put it on, when she steps out, holding a white shirt in her hand.

Walking over, she holds it out to me. “It’s Marcus’s shirt. Figured you may need one for the ride home.” I take it from her hands, and she stands tall. She doesn’t go shy like most other girls I know who are unsure of what to say.