Playing with Fire

I hoisted her up so her legs wrapped around my waist and carried her by the ass to her twin bed. I eased her down to the mattress, not breaking the kiss as I unbuttoned her jeans. She stroked my dick, up and down, her hands unsure but eager. I wondered how much experience she had in the sack. The fact she wasn’t a virgin didn’t mean jack shit. I didn’t know anything about her ex-boyfriend, other than the unpromising fact he hadn’t stuck around after the fire.

He was—you guessed it—on my growing list of people to kill if I ever went berserk.

Grace kicked her jeans down her ankles. I stroked the outline of her pussy over her white cotton undies, a violent shudder racking through my body.

So this was what being horny felt like. I must’ve mistaken bored and restless for desire until now, because nothing I’d ever experienced came close to this moment.

Her hand moved faster over my dick. I yanked her underwear sideways, dipping one finger in while kissing a path down her throat. Soaked. I began thrusting two fingers into her, working her up, knowing I couldn’t keep the foreplay up much longer without coming.

Her hot mouth was on my jaw, sucking and nipping. My tongue was on her scars again, lapping, biting. I was rough. I was confident. I didn’t treat her like a china doll. A precious, fragile thing to be handled with care and pity.

I treated her like someone I wanted to fuck until my dick fell off.

She moaned, “More.”

I slid another finger into her, pumping as her hisses became louder. Greedier. She dropped her hand from my cock and clawed at her bed, pushing her face into her pillow to stifle a little scream, her hips bucking into my hand, demanding more.

“West, please.”

“Please, what?” I licked my way down her belly button, dipping my tongue into her perfect innie. My mouth watered as the scent of her became more prominent. I wanted my lips on every inch of this girl, so next time I saw her, I could look at her and think—I know what she tastes like. Everywhere.

“If we don’t do it right now, I might explode,” Grace said.

“I’ll spare you the trip to the ER.”

I rose to my knees, took my wallet out of my back pocket from my discarded jeans on the floor, grabbed a condom, and ripped open the packet, sheathing myself as one of my hands fondled her blemished tit. For some reason, it appealed to me even more than her milky white side. It turned me on, seeing how much she’d been through. How she’d come back swinging, strong and feisty. A survivor.

I sank back down, my body draped all over hers missionary-style, angling my cock toward her center. I drove in an inch at a time, hissing at every fraction of movement. She held my waist, sucking in a breath. We both watched as I slid in. She was hot and wet and damn snug.

Swear to God, I’d never wanted to be in Texas more than in that moment.

It was only when every inch of my cock was inside her that I looked back up at her face again and saw her biting her lower lip, stifling a giggle.

Which … wasn’t the usual MO for chicks who were under me.

I frowned. “Something funny?”

“It’s you.” She shook her head, her face glowing with mischief. “You look like you are on a mission. You should see yourself. So focused. So concentrated.”

I glared at her, not sure how to react.

“When I saw your, eh, thing, in the food truck, I was ninety-nine percent sure I never wanted it inside me. It seemed too big. Too threatening. But you make me feel so comfortable. Thank you.”

I dropped my head to her shoulder, giving it a quick kiss. Essentially, she’d just told me my dick wasn’t that big.

“Stop talking,” I ordered.

“Why? You’re so adorable.”

She called me adorable while I was inside her. Was I ever going to recover?

“Fuck you,” I groaned.

“Please do.”

“On it.”

I began moving inside her. Holy shit, did she feel amazing. Sex always felt damn good. But with Texas, it wasn’t just better, it was … different. We fit.

With each thrust, I felt my balls tightening and tingling, my dick throbbing and pulsating. She shivered in my arms, and I knew she was close, too.

C’mon, Tex. Come before I do.

I wondered since when did I care. I wasn’t a complete jackass. I made sure it was fairly good to the person I was with. Oral aside, I ticked all the boxes—foreplay, strumming their pussy like it was a violin, kisses in sensitive spots, et cetera, et cetera. But I never cared if they hit the big O. Not as long as I knew the happy customers would recommend me to their friends.