Slamming Demon (Pounding Hearts 2)

“Mandy,” Brett groans as his lips finally tear away and I suck in a gasp full of air. “My little fairy girl,” he growls as one hand covers my breast.

Something deep inside me clenches with want as he calls me his. At this moment I’d give anything to still be his girl.

He squeezes my breast, molding it against his hand and my head tips back, a breathy moan exhaled until I gasp in more air.

My leg draws up, as if it has a will of its own, and my thigh locks on his hip. Brett reaches behind me with his other hand and grabs up a big handful of my ass. “Wrap both of your legs around me.”

Helping me, his hand slides from my ass, grabbing my other thigh and pulling it up until both of my legs are wrapped tightly around his waist. I’m still upright only because he has me pressed so hard against the door.

My hands lift, arms instinctually wrapping around his neck for support. He starts kissing me again and I feel so dizzy, so drunk from the way his tongue tangles with my own, it takes me a few seconds to realize he has spun us around and he’s kissing me while carrying me across the dark room.

“So little, so small in my arms,” he says huskily as he begins to lower me down on something soft. I’m pretty sure we didn’t walk up the stairs. We must be somewhere in the living room.

My arms tighten, trying to pull him down with me, but he chuckles. “So dainty.”

He grabs my hands, trapping both of them in one of his. He pins my arms above my head, and I feel my hands hitting against what may be the arm of a couch. “I could break you.”

“Break me,” I pant out and arch my back, rubbing myself against him. I can’t stop myself, it’s the only thing that relieves the throb that pulses between my thighs. “I fucking dare you.”

Brett makes a rumbling noise deep in his throat, and then I feel him reaching between us, hand reaching up my skirt. His fingers find my panties and yank them to the side. The fabric is soaked and tries to cling to my skin but he just tears it off.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he chokes.

Now that my panties are gone and I’m soaking wet, the air feels uncomfortably cold down there. My eyes begin to adjust to the dark, and I can make out his face as he explores me.

I cry out as his rough fingers find me, sliding through my slick folds. One of his big fingers slides slowly inside me and my thighs tense, my inner walls clenching around him. “So fucking tight, Mandy. Fuck, I need to be inside you.”

“Yes,” I groan, straining against his hold. “Brett, fuck me. I need you.” I implore him as he withdraws his finger.

It’s been five years. Five fucking long years. I’ve dreamt of this. I’ve imagined this so many times. I know as soon as he thrusts his cock inside me I’m going to explode.

“Fuck,” Brett curses and his hand leaves me completely.

I writhe against the couch, feeling so empty, so needy I might just die if I don’t get him inside me soon.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Brett curses and he’s fumbling with something. I hear the loud zip of his zipper then there’s a flash, a reflection of something shiny. Foil tears.

My fingers curl, nails digging into my palms as I feel the beat of my heart pulsing hard between my thighs. “Brett, please,” I plead softly.

“I know, baby, just a moment…” he says frantically. And then without warning I feel the head of his cock nudging at my entrance.

There’s a moment of resistance, as if my body might reject him. “So fucking tight,” he groans.

I lift my hips at the same time he pushes forward. The resistance breaks and he slides every thick inch into me. He stretches me to the brink as he buries himself deep, and then he stops, just holding himself there.

“God damn, you fit me like a fucking glove,” he groans.

I clench down, gripping his cock, and Brett growls. “Don’t, fuck. I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

I rock my hips, needing the friction. “I can’t help it. You feel so good.”

Brett curses and then he’s apologizing. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Before I can ask him what he’s sorry for he’s bending forward, his mouth crushing my mouth. His hand reaches between us. His fingers find my clit and my hips jerk, my body tenses. Frantically, his fingers use my own wetness to swirl against the hard little bud until I’m crying out into his mouth.

Just as I reach the bliss of orgasm, pussy spasming, wetness gushing, Brett starts to pound himself inside me. Fucking me like a wild animal.

His hand moves, his fingers leaving my clit as he drills himself deep. I’m vaguely aware of him latching onto my breast then I’m mindless as the couch creaks. My body rocks and my breasts bounce. He crashes into my clit again and again each time the head of his cock smashes into the barrier of my womb.