Page 38 of Dirty Lyrics
I don’t tell my woman what to wear. I won’t ever do that. But I will keep everyone else the fuck out.
Maya’s like sex on legs.
And no, I don’t give a fuck what the tabloids plaster across their glossy covers about what’s supposed to be sexy.
Making women think they’ve gotta starve themselves into skin and bones?
That’s not desire. That’s a scam. And fake tits, silicone asses, manufactured bodies?
Nah, that’s not for me.
I want the real thing.
Flesh. Blood. Heat.
Real curves made for a real man’s hands.
Maya.
I want Maya.
She’s one hundred percent real, and she’s everything I never knew I needed.
The way her body fits against mine, all soft and warm, drives me insane. I swear to God, it’s a fucking miracle I’m not walking around doubled over from the constant ache she puts in me.
When she’s around? My dick is hard. Painfully so.
Has been since the second I laid eyes on her again, since the moment she stepped back into my life with those big amber eyes and that sass I can’t live without.
I want her so badly I can taste it. The hunger runs deeper than my skin, deeper than my cock—it’s in my bones, my blood, my soul.
Because it’s not just about fucking her.
It’s about knowing her, being with her, possessing her, taking up permanent residence inside her heart.
Spiritually. Physically. Every damn way a man can own a woman, I need it.
“Rico,” she gasps, her voice breaking on my name, and fuck if it doesn’t light me up from the inside.
I get it. I’m right there with her. Teetering on the edge, and I’ve barely touched her.
That’s the power she has over me. Always has. Always will.
“I’ve got you,” I pant, my voice rough as I drag the thick head of my cock against her soaked slit. Teasing her. Smearing her wetness all over me like a brand.
Because that’s what this is.
A claim. A mark.
“You’re dripping for me, aren’t you, Songbird?” I growl against her ear. “Missed this dick so much, didn’t you? Tell me.”
“Yes,” she gasps, lifting her hips, shameless and needy. “God, yes.”
“Damn fucking right. Your pussy remembers who it belongs to. Your body knows its mine, doesn’t it? Now tell me whose pussy this is,” I demand, and I know I sound fucking nuts. But I can’t help it. And she must like it cause her heart is pounding and her pupils are blown wide.
“Yours, Rico. I’m yours, please.”
Her answer shreds what’s left of my restraint.
