Page 39 of Hostile Cravings
“I don’t do romantic, baby.” With a push, I moved her from me, hovering over her.
“And what do you do, Tyson?” Her brown eyes were lazy, her fingers trailing up my chest. Every part of me wanted to kiss her and tell her I would do romantic for her, that I would tear down my walls and love her the way I’d always wanted. But those words were still too uncertain, too new and ones I feared saying.
So instead, I draped my tongue down her body before grabbing her hip and flipping her over. With a slap to her ass, I dragged it back and leaned over her. “I do hard and dirty fucking, little viper.” A tremble ran through her, and she pushed her ass into me. The regret that I’d turned the moment, hiding my emotions with my desire for her body, nudged at me, but I disregarded it, knowing she was just like me in too many ways. And that this was what we needed, what I needed to make it through.
Skating my fingers down her spine, I bit her ass and slid my thumb through her warmth, feeling the wetness building there.
“Is there any part of this body that’s still virgin?” I asked, spreading her arousal up her ass.
She moaned, and I knew from that sound that there wasn’t, and my insides clenched with a mix of envy and hunger because I wanted to experience how tight that ass was and to be the first to claim it.
“Damn, Anj. You’re such a slut.” I gave her another slap, sending her body lurching forward, then sank my fingers into her wetness, loving how soaked she’d grown.
“If I’m a slut, you’re a whore,” she muttered, throwing her hair back as she brought herself to her hands.
I spread my fingers along her ass crack before pushing through her folds and against her clit, teasing her. “I’d watch that mouth of yours, or I’ll take you so hard in this ass you won’t sit right the rest of the day.” She groaned, and I shoved her head down, thrusting into her, her body shivering in anticipation. But I wasn’t ready to destroy her completely. I wanted her to come first. She was already close, and I throbbed at the thought. I grabbed her hips, driving deeper into her. She raised her head, but I shoved her back down, reaching over to touch her breast as I slowed my pace. Rolling her nipple between my fingers, I watched as the trembles started along her body.
Seeing Angie climax was becoming my favorite pastime. She was glorious, and it only sent me further over the cliff the way she fell apart, every inch of her body quaking in ecstasy.
“That’s it, baby, come for me.” As if I’d summoned it, her climax tore through her, her body spasming around me so tight, I almost lost it with her. “Fuck,” I muttered, grabbing her hips and pounding into her again. She felt so good, I never wanted it to stop, but I needed to or I wouldn’t be able to take her the way I really wanted, and I wanted to feel that ass around me before I splattered her body with my cum. I couldn’t wait to see how she responded to that because, with her insistence that I shower yesterday, I knew she hadn’t let anyone come all over her. That was something I was claiming for myself.
Reluctantly, I pulled out, ignoring the complaints from mybody as I pushed my fingers through her arousal and spread it over her before grabbing those hips again and guiding my tip into her ass. She groaned so loud it almost coaxed my orgasm from me, and I lost control of my pacing and plunged into her as I pulled her back to meet my motion. A cry tore from her and I worried for just a minute until she pushed further against me, reaffirming what I’d suspected about my girl. That as prissy and stuck-up as she tried to be, she was just as naughty as I was.
She was so tight that it didn’t take long for me to lose it. Just as another climax trembled through her and sent her body clamping down on me, my release hit me like a rogue wave, drowning me as I pulled out and splattered over her back. The sight heightened my release, leaving me so weakened that I collapsed next to her. She picked her head up from where I’d ground it into the sheets when I’d come. Her eyes were mischievous, with a glint of danger in them.
“Did you really just send that shit all over my body?” She looked disgusted, which only caused me to laugh.
“Fuck yeah, that was amazing. And it wasn’t all over your body, just your back and…” I picked my head up and looked her over, loving how sexy she looked with my cum on her. “And now it’s dripping down your ass crack, which I just owned.”
“You’re a bastard, Tyson.”
“Just marking my territory, baby. That ass is mine now.”
Her eyes lit and I instinctively hardened myself to it, knowing what those words implied and not liking how it sounded. I snapped my hand through my hair and left the bed, heading to the bathroom.
“I should make you leave the room with my cum all over you,” I said, turning the shower on.
“I don’t think so, shithead. And don’t think about marking me again.” She pushed me aside, trying to look tough, but I could see the quake in her legs.
Biting back my smile, I replied, “I’ll mark you any time I want, little viper, and you’ll like it every time.”
“That’s what you think.”
“Just wait until I coat those tits and that face, Anj.”
She hissed, the sound calling to me like a mating call.
We had returned to the back and forth that defined us and it was a place I liked, one I suspected she welcomed just like I did. She met my eyes as she smoothed the water through her hair, and they revealed more than I thought she wanted me to see. They were shining a light amber, emotion clear in them, an emotion I was having trouble denying but one I wanted to run from. Love.
My phone rangas I was watching Angie comb the wet tangles out of her hair. I was looking forward to seeing how sexy she’d look when her natural color grew in, and I wondered at that certain anticipation. She had put on a short jumper that hugged her ass too perfectly and rose up her thighs every time she moved the brush through her hair. There was no back to it, the front gathering in a V like the dress she’d worn the night before, her tits sitting perfectly bare below the material. The sight of her had me salivating until the thought occurred to me that other men would look at her the same way. A jolt of jealousy ripped through me like the sting of a blade.
“You’re not wearing that out,” I told her, picking up my phone.
“Who made you my boss?” she snapped without looking over at me. “I don’t remember the word ‘daddy’ coming from these lips.”
“I remember coming between those lips.”
This time, she did look over at me.
