Maybe Swearing Will Help (SWAT Generation 2.0 3)

I grinned and made my way toward him, my fingers practically itching to be pressed against his skin.

He stopped me.

“No, stay,” he ordered. “You touch me and I’ll forget I need this condom.”

I snickered, but stayed put, watching with curiosity as he rolled the condom expertly into place over his cock.

“I want to do that next time,” I informed him.

He shrugged. “There won’t be a next time, remember?”

I nodded. “Oh. Yeah.”

He moved then, placing himself in front of me.

The condom covering his cock dragging deliciously across my skin.

“I can’t believe you had a latex-free condom,” I breathed.

“Like I said,” he growled. “This is a long time coming.”

I looked at the non-latex condom that was covering his cock and felt my heart skip a beat.

He’d prepared for this inevitability.

He knew that one day this would come to pass.

And he’d prepared by going out and buying condoms that didn’t have latex in them.

Holy. Shit.

“Ford,” I breathed.

He slammed his mouth down onto mine, causing me to wobble on my feet, then sat back down on the chair again, gesturing me forward.

I didn’t waste time.

Didn’t stop to think.

Didn’t even breathe.

I just ran to him, straddled his lap, and then slammed my mouth onto his.

He growled and cupped my ass, his hands squeezing so tight that it hurt.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You taste and feel so good.”

He tasted like everything.

Everything I never knew that I wanted.

Thank God Ford and I hadn’t realized what we were missing when we were younger, or we’d have done a whole lot less fighting, and a lot more fucking.

He groaned when I ground my pussy down onto his cock, his hands going to my hips and pushing me down even harder.

I clenched one hand into his hair and yanked him toward me, practically pressing my breast into his mouth and forcing him to taste me.

His mouth found my nipple with laughable ease, his tongue circling the tiny nub a few times before sucking the entire nipple into his mouth.

I gasped, my hips lifting up as if to follow his mouth as he pulled away slightly, and he took advantage of my hips being raised and positioned his cock at my entrance.

He let my nipple go, then looked up into my eyes as he said, “Sit down on my cock.”

I shivered at his words, but ultimately followed directions. Much better than I would’ve done had he ordered me around like this any other time.

“You’re following directions, I like it,” he teased, an evil glint in his eye.

I stopped with the head of his cock firmly lodged inside of me.

He laughed, his mouth going to my other breast as his hand cupped it.

“Don’t be petty, Soot,” he ordered. “You know you’re gagging for it just like me.”

I was.

But I felt like I had to hold off just on general principle now.

I might very well die with his cock barely inside of me before I moved.

When I still didn’t take more of him inside of me, despite the way his attentions were starting to feel, he grinned and stood up.

I gasped, surprised by the move.

Then I was filled with him.

His entire cock was sheathed deeply inside of me.

“Ford,” I breathed, squirming on his cock as I tried to adjust to the fullness.

But it was useless. I didn’t think that I could’ve ever prepared for the storm that was Ford Spurlock.

Just like always, I knew that it was either ride or die with him.

Take it, or leave it.

And oh, baby. Did I take it.

I gasped when he leaned me back onto my desk, shivering slightly when the cool wood pressed against my overheated ass cheeks.

“This is better for me anyway,” he growled, his eyes on my tits as he wasted no time in fucking me.

He pulled back, eyes on my pussy and where we were connected, only to slam back inside again.

He did this, over and over and over again, until at one point it went from overwhelming to unstoppable.

Literally, if he stopped, I might very well die.

I knew this to be a fact without him having to stop to prove it.

“Ford,” I whispered, lifting my hips to urge him on.

He caught my hips in his hand and started to fuck me even harder. Faster. Rougher.

The sound of our slapping skin filled the room, followed shortly by the short jerks of the desk’s wooden feet across the tiled floor.

I wasn’t moaning, thank God, because I knew if I had been it’d be more than obvious what we were doing in here.

At least now, with us in the back of a deserted hallway, for people to have absolutely no reason to be back here? It was hidden.

Hopefully.

Yet, I found that I didn’t care.

I only cared about the way that Ford was making me feel. The way that things inside me were lighting up like a freakin’ Christmas tree on steroids.