Page 8 of Bad to the Bone

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispers from between my thighs.

“I might hurt you,” I say, trying to sound jovial.

“I’m serious. You can relax. I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You’re shaking.”

“It’s cold.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

I chuckle at that. I am. I’m a bad liar.

“I don’t know what he did to you, but I won’t do that. I won’t hurt you. I won’t betray you. I’m not that hard up. It’s not like I can’t get other girls if I want one.”

“Oh that makes me feel better.”

“No,” he sits up in the dark but doesn’t bother to turn on the light. Somehow that makes this moment less humiliating. “I mean, if I wanted to be somewhere else tonight, I would be there. I’m here because Iwantto be with you.”

“And what happens when you want to be with somebody else.” I immediately regret asking him. I don’t really want to know the answer. I don’t really want to think about that. But the words are already out of my mouth and there’s no turning back.

“If that day ever comes, I promise to tell you. No lies.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says solemnly. Even with the lights off I can see the ardent look in his eyes. Those two dark orbs glitter like diamonds in the dark, catching the few glints of light and magnifying them with his own fire.

I do the first sit up of the year, and reach out in the dark. My hands land on his broad chest and strong shoulders. He doesn’t move, just allows me to touch him and wind my limbs around his body. My fingers trace the shape of his muscles, following the path of his ligaments until they meet his narrow hips and then his manhood standing proudly. He gasps but doesn’t move.

I adjust myself to his body, wrapping my thighs around his and crossing my ankles behind his back. Clinging to his shoulders, I hover above his cock, teasing the swollen head with my body. His breathing becomes ragged as I use my teeth and tongue to arouse him.

“Make love to me,” I whisper in his ear, letting my hips sink down until his cock is buried inside me.

With a surly grunt he grips my behind and flips me over, leaving me flat on my back and spread open before him. I am busy thanking my lucky stars that I had the good sense to shave everything before he came over, as he looks down at my body with that hard stare of his. His eyes settle on the juncture between my thighs, artfully hidden in shadows. Or at least I hope it’s artful. Thunder thighs are a blessing and a curse.

Without much ado he drops down and begins to feast. His tongue invades the folds of my body, pursuing its target like a heat seeking missile. I bite my bottom lip and grip the sheets to avoid waking Shannon. My relative silence doesn’t seem to bother him one bit. He uses his tongue to devour me, driving hard at my core. Nobody has ever used that kind of speed and force on my body before, not with their tongue.

Before long I am drenched in sweat, writhing on the bed. He skillfully brings my body to a boil and holds it there for several torturous minutes before easing off.

I am too drunk on the pleasure to complain. Instead I watch as he retrieves a condom from my nightstand and rolls it down his hard, shiny, length. I absently lick my lips at the sight of his firm body looming over mine. Everything about him was made for sex. Not the kind of drunken frat boy catastrophes that I have always known, but the kind a gladiator has the night before facing the arena. The kind a warrior has before going off to war. The kind that you never even imagine while watching teen romances from the 80s.

With a low growl, he rolls my body over and jerks my hips up, so that I am open and exposed to him. My face down and my ass in the air, I almost find the will to protest. He quickly strips any thought of protest, lancing my wet pussy with a single, violent thrust. I feel the spasm deep in my body as he invades me again and again. With each thrust a shudder reverberates all over my body, leaving me speechless. Any hope of being quiet quickly goes out of the window as his low grunts mingle with my own moans.

I can only hope Shannon is sleeping deeply enough to not be disturbed.

“Oh, baby,” he moans, and the sound of his husky voice pushes me over the edge. My body spasms roughly, throwing us both into a feedback loop, where his climax only encourages my own. We both collapse, our limbs intertwined, our hearts thumping wildly against our chests.

“I’m going to pay for this in the morning,” I mumble.

“It’s already morning,” he says.

“I’m going to be so sore.”

“I’ll come back and massage you.”

“You have an answer for everything,” I tease, my eyelids drifting down heavily.

---