I pulled back, only to glide right back inside, my eyes practically crossing at the tightness.
When I went backward next, it was to glance down at my cock as it came from her tight sheath. The sight of her blood, small but there, gave me the most alpha-caveman-like feeling I’d ever experienced in my life.
I’d done that.
I’d taken what she hadn’t given to any other man ever.
She was mine and nobody else’s.
And always would be if I had the choice.
“You’re so tight,” I ground out, pushing back inside almost as slowly as I pulled out.
Over and over, I did this, watching her ass jiggle with each thrust.
Watching my shaft become wetter and wetter, with my pre-ejaculate as well as her desire.
Illogically, I knew that I’d wanted to give her an orgasm using my dick and dick alone.
But logically, I knew that for the first time, this might not be the experience to accomplish that on.
When I moved to cover her back with my body, curling into her slightly as I went down onto one hand beside her shoulder, I was able to reach her clit with my seeking fingers.
She hissed when I circled the small nub, not quite touching it, but not quite getting far enough away that she couldn’t feel the effects.
It was teasing at its finest.
Something in which she realized when I wouldn’t quite get her to where she wanted to go.
“You’re being mean,” she hissed.
I moved my mouth over to where I could reach her neck and bit her.
Not lightly, either.
She gasped and things tightened around me.
Things that I liked a whole fuckin’ lot.
“You say this like you expected me to be nice,” I replied. “Whatever gave you the idea that I was nice?”
She shivered. “You are nice.”
I chuckled against her shoulder, allowing my beard to drag along her shoulder as I said, “I’m nice to you. But sometimes I won’t always be when we’re in bed.”
“Why?” she breathed, turning her face so that her mouth rasped against my inner knuckle.
“Because.” I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, punctuating it with a sharp thrust and a pinch of her clit.
She hissed in a breath. “Because isn’t an answer.”
She bit my knuckle, causing me to hiss.
She didn’t stop, and neither did I pull away.
The closer she got to an orgasm, the harder she bit me, until I finally allowed her to tip over the edge.
I hadn’t fully intended to follow her over. I’d intended to draw one or two more out of her before I gave in, but that was before I’d experienced the wonder that was Sabrina’s pussy.
“Swear to fuckin’ God. You and that witch pussy,” I whispered, thinking that I’d said it quietly enough that she wouldn’t hear.
But then I was coming, and I wasn’t thinking about anything other than what I was feeling in that moment.
Coming inside of her was better than I’d ever expected.
I’d thought, hell, it’d be just like the other times. Three of them, in fact.
I remembered each time I’d come ungloved inside of a girl, and all of them had been a mistake—hey, I wasn’t a saint. I was a dumbass when I was younger.
But I remembered what it felt like.
Remembered the softness. The warmth.
What I hadn’t remembered, and likely never felt, was what it was like to be inside the person that you wanted above all others. The one that was yours, and yours alone. The one that was going to be yours for the rest of your life.
Stars burst behind my eyelids. Hell, I was fairly sure that there were more fireworks in my brain than you saw at fuckin’ Disney World on the Fourth of July.
Whatever the hell you could call what I’d just experienced—an out-of-body experience if I’d ever felt it—I knew that when I came back to, practically suffocating Sabrina, I felt remorse.
“Sorry,” I said as I pulled myself up just far enough that I could roll off of her and bring her with me.
“S’okay,” she murmured softly, her voice thick with what sounded like exhaustion. “Better than anything I’ve ever felt before. Must be those witch powers at work.”
I snorted. “You heard that, did you?”
She smiled and buried her face into my inner bicep.
“Super hearing,” she murmured, pressing a kiss against my skin before snuggling her backside in deeper.
“I don’t think I could think of a more witchy name if I tried,” I admitted. “Sabrina—as in Sabrina The Teenage Witch? And Proctor, as in one of the most witchy last names you could ever produce? Witchy is witchy.”
She snickered. “Dad had a sense of humor when Mom was alive. Now, not so much.”
I squeezed her a little bit tighter. “As much as I’d love to listen to what you have to say most of the time, anything that has to do with your dad is off-limits when my dick is still wet with you.”