Page 44 of Taste of Blood
The door hasn’t completely shut when he’s on me, slamming me against the wall and pressing his lips to mine. I open my mouth to suck in a breath and his tongue is there, burrowing its way inside like he wants to claim me.
My hand closes around the back of his neck and pulls his head closer, our teeth gnashing together, our tongues tangledin a frenzy of raw hunger. I’m drowning in him and I can’t get enough.
His cock–his beautiful, enormous, rock hard cock–grinds against mine, and I squirm, craving the friction. I slide my hand under his shirt, finding and rolling my thumb around his nipple. Pinching it between my fingers.
He groans in my mouth. I love that sound.
“Want you so bad,” I gasp.
“Take me out.”
I comply immediately, unbuttoning his jeans and slipping my hand down the front. As usual, he’s gone commando and my fingers close around his smooth length, smearing precum over his head. I rub my thumb through the slickness, wanting so badly to taste him. It becomes an overpowering urge I can’t ignore.
I break the kiss and sink to my knees, unzipping and pushing his pants down to give me access to his glorious cock. When it slaps me in the face, I open my mouth to accept it greedily, taking him deep to the back of my throat.
Swallowing him.
And still I want more.
His fingers thread through my hair, pulling me closer, fucking my mouth, and I’m in heaven. I love the taste of him, my tongue lapping at his length while I suck, my mouth milking him hard. I can feel him stiffen, his cock growing thicker while goosebumps pebble across his skin.
I can’t get enough of him, and not for the first time I realize I’m an addict when it comes to this man.
“Fuck, Ash. Feels so good.”
I love it when he says my name like that, his gravelly voice husky with need. I can feel my own cock straining against my pants. I may come just bringing him to orgasm.
I slide two fingers into my mouth alongside his cock and wet them, then slip them around to his ass. He groans again as I enter him and scissor my fingers, finding and massaging his prostate.
“Fuuuuuck. I’m. Coming,” he gasps as he fills my mouth.
I swallow every drop, savoring his taste, then lick his cock clean. My own dick is ready to burst and I know exactly what I need. I stand up and capture his mouth, thoroughly tonguing him so he tastes himself on me.
“Wanna fuck you,” I grunt when I come up for air. “Now.”
He doesn’t resist when I spin him around and cup his ass, spreading his tight cheeks with one hand while I unfasten and pull down my pants with the other. My cock springs free, soaked with precum, and I use it to lube my fingers before digging two inside him. I know it’s not enough prep, but since when has that mattered with us?
“Do it, Ash,” he growls. “Fuck me, for Christ’s sake.”
I don’t need any more encouragement than that. I line my head up with his hole and edge the crown past the first ring of muscle. God, it feels so good to be inside him again.
He pushes back against me, groaning in need, and I oblige him, shoving my cock all the way in until I’m seated in him.
Back where I belong.
Cord is taller than me by four inches so I have to raise myself up on the balls of my feet to maintain leverage. The added height puts my face level with his. I swipe my tongue around the shell of his ear, watching with fascination as the hairs rise on his neck.
“You feel like home,” I breathe.
He groans as I slowly inch almost all the way out then thrust back inside him, his ass pressing against my pelvis, bearing down on my cock and rotating for friction.
He always was a good fuck. The best.
And that awakens old urges. Old appetites. The kind that shouldn’t be explored in a dirty public alley, but fuck that. I’ve got him here now and I intend to make the most of it.
I reach around to cup his balls, squeezing until he moans, the sound music to my starving ears.
“I’ve forgotten how much you like it when it hurts, baby.”
