Page 145 of Real's Love

Stiffening his tongue, he proceeded to slide it along my slippery folds and dripping opening, before fucking me with it. His hands were everywhere, tugging my nipples, caressing my scars, teasing my inner thighs. Then, finally, two of his fingers breached my entrance. I lost it, rubbing against his face and hand as I came… and that was before he moved them into a sinuous curl, finding a spot inside me that had me freezing and shaking and crying and floating again. In the back of my mind, I was concerned that I'd drowned him, yet I couldn't bring myself to move, enjoying the euphoric state I was in physically and mentally. Then, he pulled back with a satisfied smile, watching me as his fingers thrust and his thumb rubbed.

“Targen…”

My eyes drifted closed.

“Yeah. Moan that shit again.”

His voice was deeper, rougher than usual as he kissed his way up my body, telling me how good I felt and tasted. I heard him whisper "Damn, you was saving that for a nigga, huh?"

“Mmm…”

I whined my protest as he stood, but my eyes popped open, eager to see him. Targen stripped slowly, the lamplight revealing how absolutely fine this man was, all hard planes and angles in a solid package. And oh, my… that article that I had read that said men weren’t necessarily built proportionally, that neither height nor foot size was related to penis size, wasn’t true in this case. Nah, they obviously hadn’t included Targen in that particular study, I thought, marveling at the damn forearm that jutted from between his muscular thighs. My own thighs pressed together in wanton anticipation.

And then he was over me again, his mouth capturing mine in those sweet, drugging kisses as his hand slipped between us. I gasped as I felt the head of him tap my clit before dragging downward.

“Theory?” he rasped.

“Hmm?” I responded, breath unsteady with want.

“Can I?”

Shameless and greedy, I nodded. “P-please.”

He palmed the back of my thighs, spreading me open for him, and started a slow, thick slide into me. He watched me the whole time as inch after incredible inch of him invaded and lay claim to me, waging a sensual war in which I happily surrendered. Targen read my reactions, stopping or moving depending on what I needed in the moment. There was a moment, when he was finally fully embedded, that the insecurities surged forth, making me question yet another thing. He must’ve felt my withdrawal. Holding himself still inside me, he brushed kisses against my legs before demanding, “Tell me.”

“He… I was… I n-needed repair… stitches. I don’t…” Embarrassed, I stopped.

“You are the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. Like warm, wet velvet wrapped around me. So tight… so good,malyshka,” he crooned, starting to stroke me slowly. “You like the way that feels?”

“Mm-hmm,” I admitted on a sigh. He allayed my fears as he ramped up my desire, his softly spoken affirmations combining with the stretch and rasp of his dick within my ultra-sensitive walls to leave me barely coherent.

“You look so pretty taking my dick, baby. You know how fucking possessive that makes me feel? Knowing that I’ma be the only man to ever see you looking like this again.”

I moaned, tilting my hips to meet his.

“Fuck, Theory. You like that, too, huh? I felt that pussy squeeze me when I said that. You like when I talk to you, baby?”

“M-more.”

The demand was stammered, choked out as he lit sparks inside me until I was ablaze. He moved faster, deeper.

“Good girl,milaya, telling me how you wanna be fucked. You’re mine, Theory. I’ll always give you what you want, what you need,” he vowed, dropping my legs to lean down and ravage my mouth.

His kiss was a melody of sucks and licks and bites that had me so open for him. He pulled away as I moaned a protest, a sexy little smirk curving his perfect mouth. His pace picked up, his eyes steady on my face.

“I like tasting you, too, baby. Squeezing me so tight. You about to cum on my dick for the first time, huh? Tell me what you need.”

My nails curved into the rock-hard muscles of his side as I pulled my knees back, wanting all of him I could take.

“Harder. Targen, baby… please go harder,” I panted.

And he complied, pounding into me, deep strokes that surely had to be taking me past my limits. I wanted every bit. It had been so long, and never had it been this good.

“You like that,malyshka? You like feeling me go hard and fucking deep inside you?”

I nodded… barely, something so sweet and sharp and painful and glorious building inside that I could hardly focus.

“Yeah… I know you do. You know why? Cuz you’re mine. I’m gon’ say that until you believe it. You’re mine, Theory Grace Miller. Say it,” he ordered.

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