Mr Spencer (Mr. 2)
He walks to the edge of the shower and watches me for a moment. He runs his hand down my cheek, and then cups my breast, deep in thought. His thumb dusts over my nipple and it hardens beneath his touch. “No, I wouldn’t.”
I rise on my tippy toes and kiss him. My face is wet as it rests up against his, and his big hand drops to my naked behind.
“Keep your promise to me, Spence,” I whisper. “No matter how many times you meet with her, it isn’t going to get any easier. Just the opposite. It will get harder, and you will end up either in bed with her or having a huge fight. There is no in between with the two of you, you know that.”
He drops his eyes to the floor. “I just feel bad, you know?”
I smile softly. “I know.” I begin to unbutton his shirt. “That’s because you’re a good man.”
“I didn’t know that she felt like this.” He sighs.
I push his shirt over his shoulders, and it falls back to the floor. “Of course she would feel like this. I imagine all women you meet fall madly in love with you.”
“I can’t comment.” He gives me his best cheeky smile and shrugs. “I know you do hate a show off.”
I giggle. “Lucky I like idiots though, hey?”
“If you don’t want me to see her, I won’t.”
“I don’t.”
He exhales heavily. “Okay.”
I pull him in under the shower, and he wraps his big arms around me. His lips take mine and his tongue slides slowly through my open mouth. He towers above me and his large frame takes over the space.
He smiles as he kisses me.
“What?”
“You do know I concocted that whole story just to get you to move in here with me, right?”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“You’re terrible at finding towels.”
I laugh out loud. “Is that the best you’ve got?”
“For now, yeah.” He g
rabs my behind and pulls my cheeks apart. His open mouth drops to my neck and I feel his large erection up against my stomach.
His open mouth ravages my neck, and he bites me hard, forcing me to wince.
And there it is.
The perfect moment where Spencer Jones loses control and he returns to his primal, natural instincts. Where his body needs to orgasm, and he’ll take it whether I want to give it to him or not. He switches from the sweet, lovable man I know, to a hungry predator who needs to fuck.
There is always a bite, a subtle hint that he’s reached his limit. Some days it comes faster than others, but it’s always there. I’m addicted to this man of mine and the way that he makes me feel.
He gets out of the shower and disappears into the bedroom, reappearing moments later as he unwraps a condom. I watch on in awe as he slowly rolls it on. It doesn’t matter how many times I watch him do this, it always fascinates me.
When his eyes rise to mine, I see the hunger in them, and my stomach dances with nerves.
Then he is on me. I’m pushed up against the wall as his open mouth takes mine. His hand holds my jaw just the way he wants me, and he grinds his hard cock up against my hipbone.
“We need to fuck, angel.”
“Yes,” I whimper against his lips. He lifts me and wraps my legs around his waist. I’m pinned between the wall by his hard body. He kisses me slow and deep as he slides his hard dick through my swollen wet lips.