Hard Hit (IceCats 3)
I wouldn’t think I was alive if I didn’t feel him kissing up my thighs and the curve of my ass as he rolls me to the side. He runs his tongue along the curve of one cheek and then the other before slapping his hand hard on my left cheek. “Fuck, I love this ass.”
“Thanks.” My voice is muffled by the bed, and the deep rumble of his voice runs down my spine and tickles my pussy to life once more.
He rubs my ass, and I hear his belt hit the ground as he asks, “You okay?”
“No,” I admit, and his laughter is sinister. “I haven’t come that hard in a long while.”
“Mmm.”
I hear him moving behind me, but I’m still trying to catch my breath and find my equilibrium. I think he may have knocked it out of whack. I’m not even sure if that’s possible, but holy shit, I think he did something to mine. When he pulls me up by my hips, I move with a moan and crash hard against his hard body as he fills me completely with his thick cock.
Oh, I’m not going to make it out of here alive.
He squeezes my hips as he guides himself in and out of me. The pleasure he brings me is endless as he fills me deeply, to the hilt. I let my head fall forward to the bed, needing the support as he pulls back out and then presses into me once more. His thighs hit mine, his cock fills me to the brim, and I swear, I hate his baby momma with everything inside me. She stole over a year of this from me, and that’s not fair. I need this. I need him.
His grunts are loud as he pushes in and out of me with no holds barred whatsoever. He’s rough, but not in a bad way. In a really, really, really great way. He slides his hand up my spine, cupping the back of my neck, and he goes deeper if possible. “Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he draws out, his voice breaking as his hand trembles at my neck.
Before I can agree, disagree, ask for more, harder—anything, really—his hands are at my waist, flipping me over onto my back. I gasp as he takes me by the backs of the knees, entering me in one fluid motion. Breathing, yeah, not an option. He fucks me like a dream, sweat dripping down his chest as his abs flex with each thrust. When he closes his eyes, I close mine and arch up so his thrusts are deeper. His fingers bite into my thighs as he continues to pound into me. With how sweet and concerned he’s been, I would’ve assumed he would be worried he’s hurting me.
Apparently, he’s not.
And he isn’t.
When he stills inside me, my name falling off his lips in such a roar, I can’t help but cry out. It’s not from pain. No, just pure satisfaction. Problem is, my cry and his roar must have woken Celeste. I don’t know if he hears her, but instead of going to her, he falls on top of me, cupping my face in his hands before consuming my mouth with his. I taste myself on him as my knees press back into the bed from the weight of him, but his kisses distract me from the discomfort. He draws out the kiss, his lips hot against mine. He’s damp with sweat, and usually, I’d be grossed out, but for some reason, I’m not. It makes absolutely no sense, but the fact that he’s all hot and sweaty from me turns me on like no other.
Drives me wild.
He kisses my bottom lip, my top, then the side of my mouth before ending at my jaw. He kisses my jaw quick before pushing himself up and out of me. “Let me throw this away and get cleaned up.”
I can’t say anything, I can’t even move, I can only watch as he heads to the bathroom to do exactly what he said. I want to bounce a quarter off his sweet ass, but that would involve me moving. Instead, I close my eyes, trying to recover as I listen to him move around, washing his hands and cleaning up before coming out, wiping his hands with a towel.
“Let me settle her down. Give me a few.”
I don’t answer as he leaves the room. I just lie there, looking at the ceiling, loving that my body is vibrating with such pleasure. I haven’t been fucked like that in a very long while, and boy was it a damn good time. Seconds turn to minutes, and when he doesn’t come back, I get up to clean up. His room is very tidy, with a bed and a dresser. He doesn’t have a TV, but he does have one hell of a walk-in closet he doesn’t even use. Depressing. The bathroom is insane, huge, with a shower taking up the whole back wall. The toilet is enclosed in a separate room, while the vanity has two sinks, only one of which is being used. I take in my surroundings, the sweet pictures of Celeste and Kirby together, as I clean up. Once I’m done, I wrap a towel around myself and head toward Celeste’s room to check on him. I’m not rushing him, but if we can get to round two, that would be awesome. When I reach her room, a lullaby is playing. And in the rocking chair, he sits with her in his arms. Kirby’s eyes are shut, and they are both breathing evenly.