Mark (Mallick Brothers 3)

With that and nothing else, he pulled me up onto my feet as he himself lowered down, unbuttoning my pants then shimmying them and my panties down my ass and hips and thighs, making me for the first time curse my beloved skinny jeans and how they clung lovingly to every admittedly understated curve that I possessed. I stumbled awkwardly as he worked to free my feet, making my hands slam down on his shoulders to steady myself for a long moment before he reached up to press me back onto the bed.

He didn't waste time on my breasts or belly again.

He didn't want to tease me any further.

He spread my thighs, holding them firmly against the bed, and he fucking feasted on me. His tongue slid up my slick cleft, claiming my clit for a short second before his lips sucked it inward, using a pulsating suction on it that had me wondering if it was possible to come that quickly. Then, just as the pleasure started to border on pain, he released me, his tongue moving a path back downward to curl and then thrust inside me as his eyes angled up to look at me.

"Oh my god. Oh my... oh..." I cried out as he moved back up to suck my clit as his finger thrust inward and curled, raking over my G-spot, and sending a blindingly intense orgasm coursing through my body. He made a low, growling noise as he kept working me, dragging it out, milking it for all it was worth.

I had barely come back down when I felt his hands crush into my sides, lifting, and throwing me halfway up the bed as he climbed up himself, sitting back on his ankles as he reached for a condom and made short work of protecting us.

He stared down at me long enough for me to slowly curl upward, half climbing up onto his lap, feeling his cock press promisingly into my belly, as my arms went around the back of his neck. "Fuck me," I demanded as he just kept staring at me. "Mark..." I whimpered, reaching between us, grabbing his cock, and moving it toward where I needed him, then sinking my hips down on him, feeling him press inside, stretching me, making me his. "Please," I demanded on a moan as he settled deep.

His hand went behind my back, leaning me backward far enough for me to need to brace myself with my arms behind me, my hips still up on his lap. His other hand moved to my hip, sinking in hard, using it to guide me as he started thrusting, slowly for a second, then quicker, completely beyond any restraint. Feeling similarly, I thrust down toward him as he thrust upward into me, taking him deep, helping us both get closer to oblivion.

My whimpers became moans that were loud even to my own ears as my arms started shaking beneath me from the awkward position and pressure. His arm around my lower back tightened, yanking me roughly up toward him, then throwing me back down flat, never once losing contact. His hands slid under my back to grab into my shoulders from behind, holding me completely in place as he fucked me harder, faster, until my moans became something akin to cries, the tightening deep inside promising an orgasm that put all before it to shame.

"That's it," Mark growled, watching me. "Come for me. Let me feel you squeeze my fucking cock, baby."

Those naughty little words proved the last push I needed.

His cock slammed inward, and I splintered apart with an orgasm that seemed to start at the base of my spine and explode outward.

I cried out his name, face buried in his throat, feeling him fuck me through it, his own breathing getting ragged, cursing viciously right before he slammed deep, body jerking, coming with my name on his lips.

His weight collapsed into me, pressing me deeper into the mattress, making breathing more of a wish and a prayer than a reality. But it didn't matter.

My arms slid around his upper back; my legs wrapped around his hips.

And I just... held on.

Because I knew I wouldn't have long. In the grand scheme of things, just minutes with him. So I was going to hold onto it while I had it. To him while I had him.

But we couldn't stay that way forever.

Mark proved this point just a few short minutes later when he planted his hands, taking some of his weight, and pulling against my hold so he could press up and look down at me.

His eyes were intense for a moment, completely unreadable.

But then a slow, wicked, boyish smile pulled at his lips.

"I think I made it up to you."

"Made what up to me?" I asked numbly, brain completely blanketed with a post-orgasm contentedness that made everything else fuzzy.