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Damaged (Boys of Winter 2)

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He presses harder against my clit and then finally, my orgasm tears through me and my pussy instantly starts convulsing, squeezing tight, and spasming around his thick, skilled fingers.

I feel his cocky grin against my pussy, but he doesn’t let up. He keeps working me as I ride out my orgasm, only making me sensitive to his intense touch, but fuck it, it’s so damn good.

My body finally calms down from its high and I look down to see Cruz’s hungry stare and his lips glistening with my excitement. He slowly makes a show of licking them clean and only then does he take my waist and help me down off the ledge.

My hand instantly dips into the front of his jeans that are still damp from fishing me out of the water. I curl my fingers around his hard cock, and he buries his face into my neck, his lips running along my sensitive skin as I work my hand up and down.

Using my other, I push his jeans down over his narrow hips and put that beautiful cock on display, just as it should be. I tilt my head, forcing his back up and meeting his hungry stare. “What do you want?” I murmur, just about ready to give him anything he could ever ask for.

His arm slips around my waist and he lifts me up, pressing me back against the pillar and keeping me pinned and with one, hard thrust, he buries his cock deep inside of me.

The rumble in his throat sets my body on fire and he fucks me hard and fast, his deep thrusts hitting me with a desperate need as his lips come down on mine. My hands curl around his neck and I hold on for dear life as he stretches me wide, filling me nearly to the point of pain.

Not wanting to draw it out, he makes it quick, working my body up, and as I come on his dick, tightening around him and digging my nails into his strong back, he comes hard, sending hot spurts shooting up into me.

We pause, his cock still seated deep within me, both of us breathing hard. “I shouldn’t have done that,” he admits in a whisper, his lips gently brushing over my lips again, a stark contrast to the bruising, forceful kisses he was just giving me. “I should have taken you home and let you sleep it off.”

I laugh and try to shrug off the pain, not wanting him to see just how much our quick fuck has my lungs and throat aching for relief. “Whether you took me home to my bed or kept me hidden in these bushes, I still would have ended up riding your cock until I screamed.”

Cruz laughs. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says, leaning down and scooping up my pants. He hands them to me and I groan, finding them completely inside out. There’s nothing worse than getting a slim pair of leather pants back in the right way. Pulling them up sweaty legs though is a whole other issue, one that has me thinking back to one of my favorite episodes of ‘Friends.’

Shit. Maybe I watch too much TV, but in the foster system, apart from sneaking out and getting up to no good, there’s really not a lot to do.

After way too long, I get myself redressed and cringe as I feel Cruz dripping into my underwear. If I were still naked, it would make me feel like a sexy as fuck queen, but when I’m wearing clothes, I just feel gross.

Cruz takes my hand and leads me back out onto the driveway, leading me toward his home, and with each step I take, I cringe just a little bit more.

Cruz glances my way with a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “What’s the matter, babe? Feeling a little … slimy?”

“Ughhhh,” I groan, shoving his shoulder and cheering when I manage to get him a whole two feet away. “Don’t be gross. Just get me to a bathroom where I can clean up and ditch these panties.”

Cruz laughs the whole way to his house and as we walk up the stairs, nerves begin creeping into my stomach. I’ve already met his father, but haven’t officially met his mom or siblings, and fuck, that really shouldn’t faze me, yet here I am.

He pushes straight through the door and I go to release his hand, but he refuses to let me go, despite knowing what his father thinks of our relationship.

We walk through the massive house and I look around in awe. I’ve been around places like this for a while now, but every new one I walk through always manages to catch me off guard.

It’s just as big as Carver’s place but this one seems a little less homey. It’s almost as though his parents were going for a minimalist style, or maybe they just didn’t bother to finish furnishing it because they’re rarely here.


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