Page 90 of Hidden Fears
She lifts those big eyes of hers at me. “I’m still horny.”
I look at the ceiling and groan. “Fucking minx.”
Closing the distance separating us with one step, I cover her mouth with mine. She parts her lips with a clear invitation, her hands dig into the muscles on my shoulders.
“Ken,” she breathes out my name, making me harder than any blow job ever would.
I grab her ass into my hands and lift her up. Pressing her back into the wall, I hold her with my hands while my body’s firmly pushed into hers. In this position, she’s forced to spread her legs, and my cock presses into her heated pussy. It’s so fucking hot, I can feel it through my jeans.
Once she feels how hard I am, she starts wiggling her ass so her pussy slides over my jeans-clad front, making me moan into her mouth. She digs her nails into the back of my neck and presses the heels of her shoes into my ass, nudging me to move. I gladly oblige and start moving my hips forward. With every thrust, she gasps. After a few moments, she stops kissing me back and just leans her back on the wall behind her, her mouth slightly ajar.
“You like that, Josephina. Don’t you?” I whisper into her ear, and she shudders. “You like riding my body to get you off?”
She doesn’t respond, so I whisper louder this time. “You need to answer me if you want to come.” I slow down my movements. “Do you want to come, Josie?”
“Yes,” she moans and slams her head on the wall. “Fuck, Sheriff, I want to come. Make me fuckin’ come.”
She just called meSheriff. From anyone else, I’d say they’re just revisiting one of their fantasies, but when it’s coming from her, the fantasy is actually mine. I didn’t know I wanted to hear her say that when she is on the verge of an orgasm, but turns out I do. At this point, being Sheriff apparently has become a part of my identity.
“Make me come,” she whimpers. And I oblige.
Moving one of my hands from her ass to the front of her throat, I wrap it over the base of her sweaty neck. I want to lick these droplets so badly, but it will divert me from my main goal—making her come. Once my hand fully settles on her throat, her eyes open wide. They’re wary and focused on my face.
“Do you trust me?” I rasp.
After a short period, she nods. Somehow, it makes my heart sing. I get a better grip on her ass and slowly start moving her up and down my body, making sure my cock aligns with her clit every time she comes down. All the while slowly and gently pushing on the front of her throat. She gasps for air, and I release my hold a bit, finding the right pressure point for her.
A few seconds pass before she completely relaxes. Her cheeks pinken, and a light sheen of sweat covers her forehead. She keeps biting her lower lip while I keep pumping her up and down my body, not even feeling the straining of my own muscles.
When her thighs squeeze my torso harder, and her breathing loses the steady rhythm, I know she’s close.
“I see how much you like to be dominated. Just like I knew you would,” I hiss, barely able to not finish in my pants without even letting my dick touch skin. “You can be a good girl and come for me now.”
Her mouth falls open just as her eyes close. I press a little harder on her neck and speed up her body movements with my hand on her ass, and just as I instructed, she falls apart. Her mouth opens in a silent moan, her hips jerk over mine while her nails dig into the back of my neck.
“That’s good. Ride that high,” I encourage her movements while she chases the last wave of her orgasm.
At this point, I’m not sure how I am still standing and how my balls are still full. I must admit, I’m proud of myself. The pain in my straining dick might disagree with me, but Josie’s satisfied face is totally worth it.
I gently lower her on the floor and take a step back, enjoying the view of her flushed skin, wild hair, and… fucking red lipstick that stayed on. What the fuck does it take to smudge it off? I vow to myself right here and now that I’ll find some way—some activity—that will make it come off. Because when it stays on, untouched, I feel like I didn’t do a good job. Like the mission failed. Despite her shaky legs, the damn thing didn’t budge. A good kiss should wipe that off, right? Why is it still on then?
Josie looks down at my pants, clears her throat, and says in a hoarse voice. “I think you need help with that.”
“I so fucking do.” My laughter is forced. “But not here, in the dirty bathroom of a shitty bar. We’re going home.”
“Home?” she asks with a bitter laugh. “Where is that?”
“Where we make it,” I reply simply, stunning her into silence. I offer my hand to her, and she takes it without any hesitation. “Let’s go.”
When we leave the bathroom and come to the bar, everyone knows what we were doing there. Despite me trying to fix Josie’s clothes to the best of my abilities, which was not a lot considering my own shaky movements and straining cock.
I make a point to look at every single motherfucker who dares give Josie a hungry eye. Or worse—an accusing one. And sure as hell, a few eyes lingering on her ass and knowing smirks make us switch roles. Somewhere in the middle of our path outside, Josie starts dragging me toward the exit while I bunch like a bull. I hate assholes like them, thinking that if a woman makes out with a man, it automatically makes her a whore, and she deserves treatment as such. I don’t tolerate assumptions like that, especially if they are made toward my woman.
My woman?
When did Josie truly become my woman in my mind? At some point, I started thinking of her as one, and it became a habit.
“C’mon, Ken,” she hisses when I stop to stare at one particularly difficult observant. The very same one who stared at her ass when we first came in. He is a few beers in and in the mood for a brawl. So am I. This is not my town, and I am not a sheriff here, which unties my hands. Defending the honor of my woman will not make me a bad guy, it will just make me a normal one.
