Page 72 of The True Garza
He tugs lightly at the spot where my towel is tightly wrapped, until it falls open and off, pooling at my feet.
Slow and deliberate, his heated gaze caresses my body, all while his jaw clenches so hard I can almost hear his teeth grind.
Bracing my palms on the dresser behind me, I widen my legs to give him an even better view. “Does it hurt?”
Gently, he dusts the pad of his thumb over my tight and aching nipple. “Does what hurt?”
“Fighting your desire for me.”
In response, he pinches my nipple. “Does that hurt?”
“In the best way,” I breathe.
In an almost dreamlike state, I run my palms across his chest. Down his hard, bulging abs. Even farther down to where his towel is wrapped. As he did with mine, I tug until it falls open and off.
His cock is just as thick, long, and beautifully curved as I remember. Hard as steel. I take it in my hand, and it’s like muscle memory as my fingers curl around it. The weight, the heat, the veins, the width…it feels like reuniting with something precious that I’d lost. It feels… likemine.
I caress my thumb over the swollen head, collecting and spreading the bulb of pre-cum seeping out. How am I supposed to share this? How? If I take this inside me again, it’s going to make me homicidal. Because how will I be able to sit back and let him pleasure other women with this beautiful cock?
It should be mine.
Only mine.
A miserable groan catches in my throat as my fingers tighten possessively around it, stroking up and down. If only I could detach it and keep it with me at all times.
With a groan of his own, True grips my wrist and frees himself from my fingers. “Stop fucking playing with it.”
“That’s hardly fair. I let you play with my pussy earlier.”
“You’re mine to do whatever the fuck I want with….” He punctuates that point by cupping me, then presses the heel of his palm against my clit and begins to make tight circles, eliciting a long, pleasure-filled whine from me.Ahg, so good. That feelssodamn good. “But I’m not yours,” he finishes.
Why does it sound like he’s trying to convincehimselfof that fact?
My body bows into his when he lowers his head and pulls one of my tightened nipples into his hot mouth, my hips undulating as the heel of his palm continues to make tight circles against my clit. “Oh god, don’t stop….”
He goes back and forth between my breasts, showing no favoritism, doling out equal attention.
I’m so wet and slippery, and my hip-thrusting is becoming so wild that I’m riding more than just his palm now, coating his skin with my juices.
“Always gushing like a river for me,” he says hoarsely.
A whimper of protest flees me when he removes his hand. And then a moan of pleasure when he flips me around and slaps my ass. Hard.
Bracing my hands on the dresser, I beg, “Again.”
His eyes lock on mine in the mirror as he obliges, delivering another hard, solid blow. And then another.
“Oh,fuckyes.”Sweet, sweet burn. Those hands were made for reddening my flesh. “Again.Please.”
Nostrils flared, he starts to grant me another, then stops mid-air and walks away.
“Wha—”
“Don’t move.”
Panting, ass stinging, my clit swollen and throbbing, I watch him take leisurely strides to the nightstand, gets a condom from the drawer, and puts it on. Then takes his sweet, precious time coming back to me.
“Why do you have to be such a dick?”
