Page 115 of False Play
“Harder, please,” she begged.
And so I obeyed. I pounded into her deep and thoroughly as I kept playing with her ass. She looked like a dream, and I had to shut my eyes and order myself not to come.
She was close; I could tell. So I took my finger out of her tight hole and flushed her back against my chest, wrappingmy hand around her throat. My thrusts became faster and sloppier with the new position, and I loved the way I could get even deeper. Her hand found the back of my head, and she fisted my hair, while her other hand wrapped around mine and tightened my hold around her neck.
“I’m close,” she cried out.
“Give it to me, Kenny baby. Come for me and I’ll reward you by filling you up. Can you do that for me, please?” My tone was commanding and urgent all at the same time.
She was so, so fucking close. I was eager to feel her come around me. My free hand found her clit, and I pinched it ever so slightly, and just like that, she detonated. Her pussy spasmed around me, and I fought the dizziness that wanted to take hold of me with how tight she felt. Every part of my body stiffened, my lower back tingled, and with two more thrusts, my orgasm hit me with undeniable force. I shuddered as my cock twitched inside her. A low groan escaped my lips at the feel of her pussy milking every single drop out of me.
We were a mess of sweat and heavy breaths. Kennedy rested her forehead against the window, and I rested mine against her back.
After a few seconds, I slid out of her slowly and murmured, “Bend over, baby.” She obeyed, and the sight of her, with her ass on the air, her back arched while her pussy was painted with my seed got my dick wanting to go another round. A bit of it was coming out of her, and something indescribably possessive came over me when I picked it up and pushed it all back in. “You look so fucking pretty full of my cum.” I continued to lazily pump my fingers in and out of her.
She let out a low whimper. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure it stays where it belongs, Kenny baby.”
She stared at me over her shoulder. “Do you have a breeding kink?” Her tone was amused.
I blinked once, at a loss for words for a moment. “Shit.” I laughed as I slid my fingers out of her. “I think I do.”
“Youthinkyou do?” She giggled as she turned around.
“Never too late to unlock a new kink, as long as it’s with you.” I winked.
She shook her head, and before she could reply, I picked her up, pulling another giggle out of her, and cradled her in my arms as I walked us to my shower.
Once we got in, I took the head of the shower and wet her hair. Then I grabbed the brand-new shampoo, put a little bit in my hands, and lathered it.
“What’s that?” she asked through a yawn.
“Shampoo. I’m going to wash your hair.”
She sniffed then turned around with a frown. “That smells like my shampoo.”
“It is.”
“How did you?—”
I leveled her with a look as I started to massage the coconutty, tropical shampoo into her scalp. “When are you gonna learn I pay attention to everything that has to do with you?”
She let out a contented groan, sagging her shoulders in relief. “I don’t know if I should be creeped out or flattered.”
I half-shrugged with a smile. “I like to be observant.”
Her eyes met mine. They looked tired, but her face beamed with contentment. “Who knew you were an acts of service kind of guy?”
“Glad to be of service,” I joked, but my laugh was forced.
My heart stammered as I wondered if she would ever find out I only wanted to be whatever she needed. She’d always been a strong, fiercely independent woman. So, how exactly could I take care of someone like that? I wasn’t sure, but these little things were the perfect steps in the right direction.
Kennedy deserved the quiet kind of love. The kind whispered between light touches and soft kisses. She deserved slow mornings tangled in sheets, with forehead kisses that could say more than words ever could. She deserved someone who noticed when she was overwhelmed and was willing to step in and help before she even had to ask for it.
But Kennedy also deserved the loud kind of love. The kind where they’d go to her favorite store with her and do a mile-long line at the coffee shop to get her favorite drink while she browsed the aisles. The kind who saw her for who she was and reminded her to keep fighting for her dreams when she felt like giving up. She deserved someone who remembered her favorite color was pink, and that she liked to eat her lunch with a diet soda. The kind of person who’d feed her because she always forgot to eat when she was too busy. She deserved the kind of person who would defend her until the end of time.
She deserved the kind of love that made her feel seen. One that was both a safe place for her to be and a force that would do just about anything to see her shine.
