Page 17 of Filthy Savage
Axe
I sure asfuck don’t intend to leave Angel in the state I found her in today. Not without at least reminding her what else she’s missing. Even if the closet is only thirty feet away from the cash register we just left. She’s said what she wanted to say, but nothing speaks more loudly than the same vulnerable expression in her eyes that betrays her yet again. She wants me, but won’t admit it. It’s interesting, the way she keeps her intentions tight to her vest, almost fighting against herself. I’ve got no idea which side of her will come out swinging.
And that’s half the fun.
Angel relaxes her generous breasts into my chest, and her fingers twist in a lock of my hair. “I don’t know whether to punch you or kiss you,” she admits, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“None. Both. Whatever you want, just as long as you’re enjoying it.”
She purrs out a laugh, and the noise goes straight to my thickening cock. Christ, I can’t get enough, and all we’ve done in the dark little room is a bit of kissing.
I fucking want her. And my cock kicking to life behind the zipper of my jeans is agreement enough. I hear her bite back a groan, and pick her up, lowering her ass on the same cart she just rolled into the room. All the air she exhales comes out in a hiss. I grasp around her waist, thinking of nothing but her body and her sweet scent.
“I love this leather skirt, doll, but it’s got to go,” I tell her, inching the hard to handle fabric up her legs.
Angel slides off the cart and turns her back to me. “Let’s try it this way,” she suggests in a coy whisper. She hikes up her skirt and bends forward, her hands gripping the handle of the rollaway cart. “But hurry. My coworkers will come looking when it’s time for the library to close.”
Fuck. Sex on the clock is not my usual deal, but for Angel, I’ll make it work.
Angel presses her ass back into my groin. God, she’s gorgeous from every fucking angle. Licking my lips, I take her hips and pull her closer, grinding my cock on her ass. I want her nice and wet when I claim that pussy. Reaching around to her mound, I slide her panties to one side and cover what’s mine with my palm. “You’re wet as fuck,” I whisper, pleased that I can turn her on so easily.
She moans out a whimper. “Take me, right now,” she begs.
“Only if you’ll let me have my way with you the way I like it,” I groan into her ear.
“Fine,” she hisses, and drags her panties down her legs.
Undoing my belt, I free my cock. I quickly drag a condom from my cut, unwrap it and roll it on. “Just so we’re clear,” I say as my free hand roams up to her breasts, “I don’t mean right now. I’m talking about you in my bed, any damn way I want you, for an entire night. Deal?”
“Yes,” she answers.
Taking her hips again, I position my cock at her hot, slick slit, burying myself deep inside of her in one sharp thrust. She’s so fucking tight. Her pussy hugs my cock tighter than a hand job. Angel whimpers out so loudly I’m sure someone will be at the door any second. She holds on to the cart with one hand in a white-knuckle grip, arching her back as I pull out and sink inside of her again. And again. I pick up the pace, sliding a hand from her hip to take her clit, only to find Angel’s already busy at work, touching herself as I claim her.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I groan, getting close as I thrust harder into her.
She throws her head back and covers her mouth with one hand, physically muffling the cries of her climax so that no one passing by the room will hear us.
“Then, come for me,” she pants out.
That plea opens the floodgates. I can’t hold back anymore. Not after walking away from her with blue balls the other night, even if it was my choice. But now, with her core gripping my shaft, and her inner walls still pulsating with aftershocks of her orgasm, I don’t want to walk away. With three or four punishing thrusts, I release into her completely overcome.
She reminds me that we can’t stay here as we take a minute to catch our breaths. After a moment, I pull out of her and turn her to face me. “I am not done with you,” I warn her. “Not even close. Understand?”
“Yes,” she answers.
Quickly, we straighten out our clothes, and Angel lets me leave first to avoid suspicion. There’s time to spare. A few stragglers are still perusing the sale tables. No one seems to notice me as I stride toward the main doors. Stepping out into the warm evening air, I start to walk toward my bike, but I change my mind and decide to wait beside her car. What I should’ve told her is that I’m not done with her today.
