Ruthless Love (Ash and Innocence 1)

She was gasping for breath when I moved my way back up to her mouth. “Want to know how sweet you taste?” I asked, kissing her before she could answer.

She hesitated at first, then kissed me back. She buried her tongue in my mouth, gasping her sweet, choked moans against my lips.

Carefully, I moved my hips until I felt the head of my cock slip down her mound and between her legs. I pressed slightly, feeling her wet folds part for me.

She sucked in a sharp breath when the first few centimeters of my cock slid into the heat of her entrance.

I could feel her walls throbbing against me with the pace of her heartbeat, so rapid it was like her pussy was trying to give me the hottest fucking hand job of my life. I grinned down at her. “You ready, Wheels?”

Something defiant sparked across her face, and she reached down, gripping my cock in her small hand. She pumped it up and down, rocking her hips in a slow, sensual motion.

Fuck. Where did she learn that?

Kennedy might be a virgin, but she had the instincts of a damn succubus—not that I was about to complain.

I braced myself on the bed, letting her rock her body, teasing the tip of my cock with her pussy while her hand pumped against me. She seemed to realize it felt good when her own hand pressed into herself at the bottom of each movement, and she started grinding her wrist against herself as she jerked me off.

I had to grit my teeth. Finally, I knew if I let her go on I was going to cum before I’d even had a chance to show her what it felt like to have every inch of me inside her.

I slid my hips forward until her fist was sandwiched between us, still gripping the last bit of my length she could get her hands on. I pressed again, forcing her hand away as she sucked in a shuddering breath.

“Oh,” she whispered, almost in surprise.

I had grand plans for how this would go. How I would slowly tease her to the edge of climax. How I’d show her what it felt like to edge on oblivion so many times that the final explosion was practically nuclear. Except she’d done me in. That little, teasing hand of hers and the tight grip of her pussy were too much.

I pounded into her, relentless and uncaring. I didn’t give a shit if I lasted thirty minutes or ten seconds. I didn’t care if she came again.

She was fucking mine, and all I cared about was burying every last inch of my cock into her until she didn’t have the faintest doubt about that—until I was gripping my throbbing cock and coming all over her pale body.

“Tristan,” she gasped.

I barely heard her. I lifted her thighs so I could get deeper—until I was absolutely buried in her soaking heat.

She came when I was fucking her so hard that the headboard of her bed was bouncing loudly against the wall, probably leaving dents. I felt her convulse around me, gripping me like a vice. I slid out of her. My dick pulsed with what felt like wave after wave of a never-ending orgasm.

I blinked through it, eyes feeling blurry until they settled on the drops of my come speckling her body.

She lay there like she could fall asleep, her entire body shaking with the force of her breaths.

“No wonder people like doing that so much,” she said, gasping for breath as she came down from her orgasm.

I gripped one of her tits, smearing my come against her skin as I did. “You’re mine, Wheels. Remember that.”27KennedyTristan and I walked to his house together for the first time. He didn’t push me in my chair, carry me, or anything in between. I walked. I wasn’t sure how long those small victories would keep feeling so good, but I was happy to enjoy them while they lasted.

“What if your parents are home?” I asked when we got closer to his house. “Will they care that you’re bringing me in the middle of the morning?”

Tristan paused, looking at me strange. “How much did you overhear that first morning?”

“Between you and your dad?” I asked, surprised he wanted to talk about it for once. “Just that he wanted you to clean up the house, pretty much.” What do you tell them? The question came back to me—the one his dad had asked that never quite made sense. I’d given up trying to figure out what he meant, but now…

Tristan shook his head, laughing slightly. He looked like he was about to say something more, but he started walking again. “It’ll be fine.”

Inside, we gravitated toward the kitchen, where Tristan started rooting through the pantry for supplies. He claimed he was going to make me the “best damn pancakes I’d ever had.” When he opened the pantry, I noticed it was almost nothing but cases of beer and a paltry assortment of cereal boxes and some other odds and ends.