Page 142 of Taste of Blood
His body is my home. My sanctuary.
“Mine,” I growl as my cock digs a furrow through his tight ass.
All mine.
I bury my nose in his neck, breathing him in as if he’s oxygen.
He captures my ear. Suckling it. His hot breath sending shivers through my veins.
“Fuck me, baby,” he croons.
My cock responds, growing thicker. Harder. Hungrier.
We chase the high, our pace frantic. He meets every thrust, leaving me breathless.
The need to possess, to claim, blinds me. I rock against him, my body tuned only to him.
The world disappears. It’s only us. This moment. This place in time.
His nails drag down my back, leaving liquid fire in their wake. I can feel my balls tightening, my breath shortening, my head spinning out of control.
When the orgasm hits, I lose all sense of self.
His legs squeeze me tight against him, his teeth buried in my neck. My blood filling his mouth as my cum claims his ass.
We remain like that for several minutes, unable to move. Unable to speak. My brain has gone offline, nowhere to be found while my cock continues to throb deep inside him. Milked dry. Like it’s ejecting every drop of cum I’ve ever produced.
Finally, slowly, I come back to myself.
“What the fuck was that, Ash?” he pants.
I offer a lazy smile. “I don’t know.”
Whatever it was, I hope we can do it again.
Soon.
We don’t move until my spent cock finally shrivels out of his ass.
“Shower?” I ask.
“Hell yes,” he agrees.
What does it say about the intensity of that experience that we don’t fuck in the shower. Just wash each other off and wrap ourselves in towels before crawling back into bed.
His steady heartbeat under my head almost lulls me to sleep immediately.
“Ash?” he says, just before I nod off.
“Yeah?”
“Are we really going to do this?”
“Do what?”
“Leave it all behind. Just the two of us.”
I lift my head and meet his eyes. “I’ll start the ball rolling tomorrow.”
