With every stroke of her hand, my sanity slips a little further out of my reach. It brings the honesty pouring out of my mouth. To Gracie. My confessor, my confidant, my other half. “I didn’t want to come without you. I couldn’t,” I rasp through my teeth. “I hated my cock without you there to take my fuck. You’re the only reason I have a cock, Gracie. It gets hard and comes for you. That’s what it does. That’s all it does.” My lips peel back in a snarl against her mouth. “Tell me no one touches your cunt but me. Tell me I’m the only man who’ll ever get to lick and bang and guard it. Reminds me it’s mine.”
She guides my hand between her thighs, molding my palm to her warm, wet sex, making me groan. “It’s yours, North. It was yours before I even met you. It was yours from the day I was born.” She beats me off roughly for a few pumps, robbing me of breath. Of sanity. Her words ring in my head. “There’s a lock on that part of me when you’re not around. You’re the only one with the combination. You’re the only one who fills me up so tight. It’ll only ever be you.”
“Yes,” I growl into a kiss. A violently possessive one. “Yes. Mine.”
“Completely. Yours.”
Slowly, sinuously, she gives me one final ride of her fist, then climbs on top of me, our chests flush, mouths mating in an eager rhythm, her wet pussy grinding down on my bare dick. Slowly, so slowly. Torturously. My hands slap down on her naked backside, kneading, urging her to go faster, but she maintains her slow, teasing tempo until I’m panting, out of my mind with lust. “Gracie, I’m in pain, baby.”
With our mouths interlocked, she reaches back and circles her hand around my dick, dragging my hardness through her ass cheeks, lower, to the entrance of her sopping wet pussy. And she works herself down on it, looking me right in the eye as she wiggles side to side, her tits dragging around on my chest, forcing me once again to lock my muscles up tight to keep from busting.
“Enough teasing. Get it in or I’ll put it in,” I growl, my fingers punishing on her backside. “Maybe that’s what you want. Me to flip you over and pound that juicy little gash?”
Her body grows slicker at my words and down she slips, filling herself full of me with a slap of flesh on flesh, gasping against my mouth, her body shaking on top of mine. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you,” she whimpers, her hips beginning to move. To ride up and down on my throbbing shaft, her tits raking up and down on my chest, our mouths still engaged in a battle of tongue and lips and teeth. Christ. She’s so fucking tight. Those tiny muscles between her legs lock around me and milk, milk, stroke. I’m never far from coming. It’s just a matter of hanging on, waiting until she gets off. And that’s what I do now. Endure the pleasure/pain of being balls deep in utter goddamn perfection. I let her rub her addictive pussy on me, her breath coming faster and faster, the sound of our flesh smacking together growing quicker, filling the quiet hospital room, along with my grunts.
She breaks our frantic kiss and sinks her teeth into that full lower lip, her eyes glazing over. “Oh Daddy.” Her hips whip faster, her pussy clamping down, and I suck in a breath at the sexual agony, reaching for the rails of the hospital bed and gripping them in my hands. Don’t come, don’t come, don’t come. But my hips are thrusting upward viciously, speeding me closer to the edge, my dick cramming in and out of her quickening heat. “It hurt to be without this,” she whispers, gasping, panting, our foreheads pressed together. “I don’t want to be alive without you fucking me. Every day. Every day. You fuck me so good.”
My Grace has never used those terms with me before.
Fucking. Fuck.
It’s a signal that she’s lost in the lust. Lust for me. And it’s such a heady turn-on, this ladylike angel from Beacon Hill riding me for broke, telling me she needs to get dicked every day of the week. She’s better than any fantasy—and somehow she’s mine. Somehow this beautiful girl is having a bone-rattling orgasm on top of me, grinding herself down like she needs every inch of me to achieve it, her sobs of my name filling my ears.
God. God, I’m the luckiest man on earth. How is this real? I wrap my arms and rock my hips, guiding her through the storm. Anchoring her. Rejoicing in the privilege. When she stops trembling and I’m assured she’s coming down the other side of her climax, my urgency takes over again. Digging its claws into my belly, my loins, my balls.