Big Man's Bride (Big Men Small Towns 1)

Suddenly I’m all too aware of the building pressure between my legs, and the way my limbs feel like they’re buzzing with electricity. My energy shifts, and the furious pace I’d been keeping, the desire to bring him to the brink, falls away. Instead I want to take my time. To savor him. Make it last. If this is the one and only time that I’m going to experience him, I might as well make it count. I can still hate him later.

I smooth out the movements of my mouth, taking him in and out in a slow rhythm that I know will tease him. He groans, suddenly weaving his fingers into my hair, and the transfer of control is nearly seamless. The part of me that wanted to dominate him, to bring him to his knees, happily concedes to him, giving up entirely any semblance of being in control.

Caleb tips my head back by my hair, and I love the feeling of him pulling at my roots. He angles my mouth so he can thrust his hips up into my mouth as he holds my head still. I shouldn’t like this. I should shove his hands away and show him exactly what I’m made of. He needs to know I’m not a pushover. I can be in in control. But I don’t. I let him take over. Brutal heat and lust sink through me, so visceral that I can barely hold still. I want to stretch and purr and accept that feeling down in my bones.

There’s a rawness to the way he fucks my mouth. The way he just takes what he wants. I imagine him brining that same feral attitude to other situations. Like when he tastes me for the first time, or when he fucks me. And I know he will. Even though I know this is a reckless decision, and I’ll probably regret it, there’s no doubt that Caleb with take me with his mouth and cock. Right now I don’t care about the repercussions. I’ll figure that out later. I just want more of him.

He fucks me deep between my lips. His hips moving faster and his ass raising off the couch. His thigh muscles are taut, and I graze my fingernails up and down his smooth skin, causing his rhythm to falter and eliciting several grunts. I pull away from his cock and lick down to his balls, circling each with. my tongue before taking one in my mouth and sucking. His fingers tighten in my hair and I know that he likes it. “It’s good to know your mouth is just as dirty when you’re not yelling at me.”

If my mouth weren’t stuffed full of him, I would laugh. Instead, I switch balls, popping the other in my mouth, and thoroughly bathing it with my tongue. I look up at him and raise an eyebrow in reply.

I lick up his cock to the crown and back down again, over and over. Each time I get to the head, I swirl my tongue around it, and I enjoy the hiss he makes through his clenched teeth. After a few passes like this, he tries to nudge his cock back inside my mouth, but I don’t let him. Not yet. I love the feeling of the tension building in him, and I want to see how long I can keep him here, right on the edge. The strained look on his face is turning me on, and my panties are wet. I sit back on my heel, grinding my pussy on it, hoping to relieve a little bit of the pressure building there.

Suddenly, Caleb rises, his hands slipping under my arms and flipping me over, so my back is against the couch and he is kneeling over me. He props his injured leg on the couch and plants the other leg to the side of me. His cock hovers just over my lips, and he places a hand on top of my head, easing himself inside my mouth. He starts pumping into my mouth, setting a fast pace, not relenting.

I relax my jaw completely, taking him deeper and surprising him.

“Fuck yes,” he grunts, gliding in and out of my mouth, taking what he wants. “Take it all.”

In just a minute my mouth is flooded with his hot cum, salty and metallic spilling over my tongue. Exactly how I imagined and so much better at the same time. He holds my head still and stays inside my mouth as jet after jet shoots down my throat. I swallow with him still inside my mouth and I feel him shudder. When he pulls out, his cum drips down my face. It’s messy, but I don’t care. I wanted every single drop. He throws his leg over me and then slumps down on the couch, catching his breath. The look on his face is fire. His eyes so dark that they seem like coals that are stoked. That gaze could consume me. And that slow, sensual smile appears on his face. It looks like victory.