Page 82 of Savagely Yours
She had no clue how wrong she was.
I was something before, but I wasn’tthis.
“Come on my dick.” I sucked on her neck, rolling her firm nipple between my fingers. “You’ll be a good girl and come for me, won’t you, Counselor?”
After releasing the sexiest moan I’d ever heard in my life, she plucked herself from my grasp, fell forward onto her palms, and met me stroke for stroke. So much sweat covered our bodies, I had a hard time adjusting my hold on her hip.
Then she lowered her head.
I looked down.
Her pussy swallowed my dick like a fucking monster.
“Dez,yes, yes, yes…”
She cried out, her body going stiff.
At the last possible second, I pulled out, pumped my shaft, and came so hard that I painted her backside in endless streams of pearly white. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe or see straight. I wanted to collapse on top of her, but I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t simply die.
She claimed my mind wasn’t going.
She claimed her pussy wasn’t magic.
Yet, what else could explain why I, with barely any air remaining, opened my mouth to say some shit like, “You’re done with other men, Larke. Fucking done.”
I knew how crazy I sounded. Any sane woman would hightail it out of the studio—except this one. I would chase her to the ends of our burning world.
Love was never supposed to find me.
And this was why.
I visually traced her curves as if my eyes were a sketching pencil. “I’ll get a washcloth, but give me a minute. I want to take you in, just like this, a little bit longer. You are so fucking gorgeous.”
She laughed. “You’re obsessed.”
“And proud of it.”
“Me too, so it’s okay.” She looked over her shoulder. “By the way, come on my belly next time.”
I tipped my ear toward her. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I heard you right.”
“I’m done with other men, right? That’s what you said. So, come on my belly next time. That way, I can watch as you cover me with your cum.”
Blood filled my dick.
And I forgot all about that damn washcloth.
Larke stirred in her sleep,her smaller frame pressed against the wall, a large gap between us on the mattress. Although the window was open, a heavy heat clung to the air, signaling that summer was fast approaching. Droplets of sweat created a freckled pattern on her skin, the beads coming together to form rivulets. The damp hair not encased in a twist created curly patterns on her forehead.
I was sure my big body didn’t help matters.
I was drenched myself, and we both ran warm, though Larke’s warmth was far from the furnace-level heat my body tended to give off.
“Babe, I need to get you that fan,” I said, slinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Once summertime comes around, I won’t have you sleeping in this. Maybe we should head farther north? Cross over into Canada? I’ve been thinking about where we should go.”
I searched for my underwear in the dark and pulled them on, making a mental note to leave more than one change of clothing at Juniper. Then I went to the bathroom, grabbed a small towel, and returned to dry her off as best as I could. With my bodygone, I knew the blast of wind that burst through the window had to feel refreshing as it moved over her wet skin.
I wouldn’t leave the unit.
