Chapter 211 - Easy love

"When was the last time you were well and truly f.u.c.k.e.d?"

Jenny's cheeks burned in response. He was really asking this… in a coffee shop of all places? She glanced around, curious if anyone could hear the filth coming from his mouth. Such a pretty mouth. Steve had a pouty bottom lip she wanted to suck and bite. A mouth that no doubt knew how to please a woman.

"Answer me." The corners of his eyes creased as he narrowed them.

She swallowed. "Months."

An edge of his succulent lips pulled up in a conspiratorial smirk. She squeezed her t.h.i.g.hs together. She knew she was done for. She had a thing for older men. Always had. Men her age were boring, self-serving. Fooled themselves into believing all their online Dom bullshit and cared only for their p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e.

Work had put her in a dry spell, as dry as the books they preserved and restored in the library. Until he'd showed up to lead her department. Elegant, refined, and dripping with panache. She couldn't stop thinking of being taken over the scanner. Or touched as delicately as he fingered the antique pages.

Opening his wallet, he tossed a fifty onto the table, stood, and grabbed his coat. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" The question lingered in the air for a few moments without a reply, but she followed him still. Ever the curious and obedient little thing.

He took her hand in his once outside. "My place."

Street lights reflected in still puddles, making the night shimmer all around. His flat wasn't far, a few blocks from the café, but her pulse raced with the unknown as the elevator opened and he pulled her inside. She barely had a moment to think before his mouth crushed against hers. Rough, commanding. It both calmed and sent her heart beating faster.

His tongue slipped along hers, eliciting a whimper. She wondered if she could come from his mouth alone. His skilled kisses tested that theory as they explored. The elevator opened to a dark hallway. He walked her out, pushing her against a wall before hoisting her up. Legs wrapped around his waist. Her c.u.n.t was aching, and they hadn't even made it inside his place yet. She couldn't keep her mouth off him. Finally, he opened his flat. But no respite welcomed her here as he pressed her against the back of the door, pinning her wrists.

He didn't speak, only smiled wickedly before taking her lips once more. Her skin tingled. She couldn't fathom what he had in store, but she yearned for every moment of it. He s.u.c.k.e.d at her neck and let her arms go. Taking the chance, she pushed his coat off his shoulder and let it fall to the floor. He then did the same.

He unbuckled her belt, and the tantalizing sound of a zipper falling filled the small space. He explored the dip of her stomach, just below her belly button, and down to the very edge of her aching c.l.i.t. She opened her body to him. He could have it. Every inch. She'd needed this for so long. Her cheeks flushed as his fingers found her slick slit. A dark snicker escaped him. Half of her loved the embarrassment, revelled in her need being so exposed. The air around them seemed to crackle.

"I know you want it, but you can't have it. Not yet." His voice was deep, breathy. He fisted the back of her head, his other hand finding her opening and invading without a moment's pause.

She clung to his shirt, her mouth falling open as he fingerf.u.c.k.e.d her before pinning her hands over her head and holding them there. His touch grazed down her body. C.a.r.e.s.sing. Appraising. Claiming. Downward it went, dipping between her folds once more. He swallowed her m.o.a.ns like sustenance.

He slipped his fingers in her mouth, teasing her tongue before molesting her. "This is what a needy little s.l.u.t tastes like." Even in the dim lighting, his eyes seemed to gleam. "Tastes good, doesn't it?"

She nodded softly. This is what she'd needed—to be manhandled, taken, used, and made to m.o.a.n like the whore she was deep down. He devoured her sounds like he owned them and was fuelled by them. And he did. He owned every inch of her tonight. His hands traversed her body. His tongue made love to her mouth. The girth of his fingers filled her, readying her for what she prayed was to come.

He gripped her throat. "Good things come to those who wait. Don't you want to be good for me?"

"Uh huh." She nodded.

She longed to be everything for him. V.i.r.g.i.n and whore, and everything in-between. He only needed to say the words. He trained his gaze at her and continued his assault on her c.u.n.t. Those moments when he didn't speak, when he merely stared into her, made her even wetter. It was so intimidating, almost predatory. A beast. And she needed to be consumed.

"Please," she begged but had no idea for what. To stop? For more? Both? She wasn't certain she even knew herself anymore.

He drew his tongue over her open mouth, marking his territory in silence. Such intense needs and wants surged through her. Never in her life had she d.e.s.i.r.ed someone to spit into her mouth, but f.u.c.k did she want it right now. Then he stopped. The stillness brought her mind squarely to the pulse of her c.l.i.t. Like a little heartbeat yearning for him.

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Turning the corner, Steve walked her backwards into another room and pinned her against a wall again. His tongue stroked expertly at the warm cavern of her mouth. Suddenly, his hand was around her throat once more. Her jaw fell open. He flicked on the light, exposing her wanton face to him.

"You need this. You know you do." His lips devoured hers. "That little c.u.n.t of yours deserves to be f.u.c.k.e.d right."

"S.l.u.ts didn't need clothes," she recalled him saying one night after work when the rest of the department had gone home, leaving them there to stew in the tension. He was proving it now.

The air licked at her slit but was quickly tempered by the warmth of his kisses along her cheeks. The sight of him was something to behold. His eyes were closed. He gripped her t.h.i.g.hs, moving like a man lost in reverent worship as he c.a.r.e.s.sed his face over her plumpness. Reaching up, he shoved her shoulders down into the settee's back, arching her as his tongue slid between her folds. This was a man who loved to eat a woman. Her eyes fluttered, but she managed to once again lock her vision on him. His large hands held her open and bared all her honeyed goodness for him to sup on.

He spit on her p.u.s.s.y before taking a long, slow lick and repeating the depravity once again. This is what she was learning to enjoy about him. Such a cultivated man but with debauched tastes lingering below his refined surface. Someone who could fulfil all her needs and even awaken new ones.

The tip of his nose danced across her asshole as he ate her. She whimpered. Gripping the back of the sofa, she imagined what it would be like for him to f.u.c.k her there. No one ever had. She'd had no d.e.s.i.r.e to before. But Steve could have anything he wanted. Every part of her. Every hole.

He continued with his feast until her m.o.a.ns grew louder, pushing the air from the small room. She gripped his hand as her climax swept through her stomach and melted from her c.u.n.t. But his assault never ceased. He knelt beside her on the sofa, his fingers pressing into her soaked entrance with ease and relentlessly f.u.c.k.i.n.g her.

"You don't even want to think anymore, do you?" His breath was hot against her face.

She shook her head, stars bursting behind her eyelids. "No, Sir."

He was right. This is what she'd wanted, to be so dumbfounded with bliss that she couldn't even form words, thoughts… All decisions would be his alone. She was just a toy. Something to be enjoyed, played with.

He gripped her throat, not letting up even as her c.u.n.t squeezed his fingers in release. He wanted everything. She wanted him to have it. Soon, he tapered off the intensity, standing to undo his belt and zipper. He wasted no time slipping into her like putting on a most perfect glove.

She bent back over, feeling his thickness stretching her open. Her long hair teased and brushed her hard n.i.p.p.l.es. His fingertips dug into the flesh of her h.i.p.s.

"You feel so f.u.c.k.i.n.g good."

That praise flowed through her, lighting her up. For a moment, she took control, pushing her a.s.s back on his c.o.c.k, so hungry for more.

"There you go, baby. Get what you need." He lauded her with his touch, ghosting over her n.i.p.p.l.es and c.a.r.e.s.sing her throat. Then he used her wrecked blouse to pull her up and around, sitting her back on the settee. "Keep them behind you," he spoke of her arms. He stood, his huge c.o.c.k jutting out like a creamy treat.

"Yes, Sir." Oh, god, yes. Use me. Wreck me. Make me no good for anyone else.

Cupping the back of her head, he lowered her down. She opened her mouth happily, almost giddy to taste herself on him. A m.o.a.n vibrated around his thickness as she got her first mouthful. He pumped his h.i.p.s. His sounds were so s.e.xy. The pair of them soon fell into a rhythm until he fisted her hair, pulling her back. She gazed up into his eyes. Drool dripped from the corner of her mouth.

He traced the head of his d.i.c.k around her wet lips. "You like making a mess, don't you?" He smiled, his eyes once again showing his age in a way that made her melt. "I knew you would." He gripped the sides of her head, f.u.c.k.i.n.g into her willing mouth before kneeling once again to thank her with a kiss. They slid their tongues against one another, m.a.k.i.n.g. .l.o.v.e in their own way.

"I'm nowhere near finished with you, little one." He fondled her c.h.e.s.t, grazing the palms of his experienced hands over the beads of her n.i.p.p.l.es as he held her by the neck.

"I don't want you to ever be."

He rose to his feet again, towering over her as he slipped back into her. Spit dripped down his d.i.c.k as he used her mouth. His girth filled her throat, making her feel so used. She felt so beautiful and respected with the way he would stop to bend and kiss her, as if to thank her before f.u.c.k.i.n.g her face once more. The gagging sounds only turned him on more and her as well.

"You're doing so well." He stroked her cheek.

Hurriedly, he finished fully undressing her. She stared in anticipation and awe as he hooked his arms under her t.h.i.g.hs and yanked her body down, positioning her for further use. Her t.h.i.g.hs were spread wide. She wrapped her hand around his hot, slick c.o.c.k. His fingers once again found home inside her. She had never felt passion this intense, this consuming. He couldn't get enough of her. His ferocity was almost frightening—almost. But excitement won over.

He s.u.c.k.e.d the honey from his fingers, then shoved them into her mouth in a demonstration of dominance. How could something so roughly filthy make her feel so d.e.s.i.r.ed and wanted? She was at a loss but never wanted it to end. His free hand pinned her head back, forcing her gaze on his.

"I want you to come for me."

Mouths met once more as he went back to work, stroking the inside of her c.u.n.t like a maestro. She did her best to p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e him, but wave after wave rushed over her body, stilling her hand.

A sweet, warm ache formed in her pelvis. It was reminiscent of her favourite thing: morning masturbation when her bladder was nice and full. The pressure would press against her G-spot and heighten her arousal as she fingerf.u.c.k.e.d herself into oblivion. But that had hardly prepared her for what her body did now. Wetness squirted forward, uncontrollable as she came and soaked his palm.

"Good girl. Let it go," he cooed before kneeling and s.u.c.k.i.n.g the l.u.s.t from its source. He ravenously tongued her folds, keeping her forever suspended in o.r.g.a.s.m.

Disbelief washed through her as he rose again and slipped his fingers into stroke her spot. He was forceful, f.u.c.k.i.n.g her hard. Her head spun. She squirted once more as her body shook. It was as if he'd possessed her, controlling her from within and making her his. Every inch of skin felt s.e.n.s.i.t.i.v.e. Tongues explored each other's mouths as he pulled her into his arm, switching them around so he rested on the settee.

She straddled his l.a.p and ground her p.u.s.s.y along his length, writhing like a luring nymph. "Please," she begged. His fingers had been marvellous, but her body craved to be filled with something thicker. She lifted just enough for him to push down his jeans. "Please f.u.c.k me."

"Show me." He stared up at her, almost challenging as she sunk down and enveloped his d.i.c.k. "Show me what a little whore you are."

She gripped the back of the small couch and rolled her h.i.p.s a few times before bouncing on him. He filled her perfectly. Just enough to where the pain of the stretch brushed against p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e. He was b.a.r.e, raw, and she could feel every vein. His fingertips pressed into the flesh of her h.i.p.s then a.s.s, urging her on. M.o.a.ns filled the space between them.

"There you go, f.u.c.k me, baby."

The s.e.xiness of gravel in his voice made her m.o.a.n. Breaths danced across his lips. His hold spread her and air licked at her asshole. She had to, needed to, make this last. Bracing her weight against his hard c.h.e.s.t, she rode him hard. The frenetic energy of the night boiled in her system. He pinched her n.i.p.p.l.es, making her cry out. His groans joined hers, heightening. Another climax neared, and she warred with whether she wanted it yet or not. She longed for the tryst to last. To be used and spent all night.

He gripped her throat, then pinned her arms behind her back. Never once did she stop f.u.c.k.i.n.g him. Her m.o.a.ns grew louder as she ground her c.l.i.t against his pelvis. Her body jerked. She felt unsteady and braced herself against his c.h.e.s.t before dipping her head to kiss him, moving slow atop him to make the climax last.

But she needed more. Nothing would ever be enough. She arched her back, taking his slick c.o.c.k him deeper.

"Yeah, you're still hungry, aren't you?" He smirked. "You want more c.o.c.k?"

She nodded before bouncing once again. He rolled his h.i.p.s, lifting to meet her movements with his own soft thrusts. His breath was hot against her b.r.e.a.s.ts. His pants grew louder. His stamina, restraint, and subtle gravitas only made her want him more. She took the lead and rode him faster.

"Come on. Come on," he coaxed her. "You're so beautiful like this, c.o.c.k-drunk and spent."

"That was f.u.c.k.i.n.g amazing," she whispered with a soft laugh, raising enough for his c.o.c.k to slip back out. C.u.m oozed from her, and she loved the feeling of it.

He wrapped her in his arms, cradling her against him as he drew his fingertips over her back and over the peaks of her shoulder blades with a gentleness that threatened to break her more than his rough f.u.c.k.i.n.g ever could. Goosebumps rose in his wake. For as fiercely as he'd had her, the afterglow was delicate and soft. She'd needed a man who knew how to do both.

"Stay the night," he stated after a little bit of silence.

Fresh heat rose to her cheeks. To be treated so tenderly meant the world to her. She lifted her head to look at him. "Yeah?"

A smile pulled at his lips, resting in his eyes. "Yeah." He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek. "I'll order us some food, and you need a new shirt, anyway." He motioned to hers discarded and wrecked on the floor.

She chuckled. "I'd like that." Their lips met once more. "Perhaps a bath first?"

"Anything you want." He brushed the hair off her shoulder, causing her a shiver a bit. "It's yours."

"I hope that includes seconds." She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. "I'm a greedy girl tonight."

His smile lit up his eyes. "Good. That's my favourite kind."

Ends