mouth and the whole of her little body writhed and wriggled against his, her gasps turning wanton as he nipped. He ripped the glove from his hand and tore open his pants, barely remembering to fish the condom from his back pocket before shoving the cloth down out of his way.
His cock sprang up between them, hot against his belly, hard and insistent as it sought to lie in the valley of her buttocks. He ripped the condom wrapper with his teeth and got the condom on. He angled down between her legs, finding the entrance now smeared with Ben-Gay, so hot, so unbelievably tight.
His groans mingled with hers.
“Yes, yes!” She scraped the wall, raking at the paint with both claw-like hands. “Please, God, fuck! Please!”
He sank in slow, stretching her gently until he felt that first ring of muscle give way. He would have filled her gradually, but all that ended when she shoved her hips back and impaled herself on as much of him as she could get inside her. That first animal grunt of both pleasure and pain was his absolute undoing. He surged into her after that, slamming her back up against the wall until his hips were slapping against her ass and she was flat against the paint, unable to find the leverage to shove back any more to meet him.
He had to get deeper, better angled. He had to thrust, and he had nothing sturdy to grab onto. Hooking his arm around her waist, he jerked her off the wall and threw her down over the nearest section of counter instead. He grabbed her hair, winning another animal cry when he yanked her head back and slammed into her now, as hard as he could manage, all the way up to his aching balls. His hot, aching balls. Fiery hot, even.
Shit. The ointment. It was on him now, too.
Jackson didn’t stop. It was heating, searing into him as thoroughly as if he were cooking his balls and now the whole underside of his shaft on the stove right next to the pan of chicken. That little bit of Ben-Gay was enough to take him through a good fifteen minutes of sheer, unadulterated hell, but Sara made it worth the trip. The tight heat of her body amplified the burn until it had seared through every tender nerve ending. His cock felt seared by it, but he couldn’t stop. He took her until they were both shouting, both burning, both shuddering one right after the other in fiery convulsions so agonizing it was hard to believe they could be orgasms. Heaven and hell, intertwined.
It hurt, but it was beautiful.
* * * * *
Sara awoke to a room filled with soft snores. At first, she couldn’t remember why the bedroom, lit by streams of bright morning sunlight that spilled in around the heavy black window draping, was so unfamiliar.
She was naked, her wrists were cuffed together, and there was a warm, heavy arm draped around her waist. It wasn’t Robert’s arm. It was too big to be Robert’s. Thighs like tree trunks were pressed up against the backs of her legs. A very solid length of morning wood was nestled between her buttocks, pointing up toward the small of her back.
Heat flooded upon her instant recognition of it. Of the ointment he’d smeared into her, there were no lingering effects that she could feel. No more heat. No tenderness. Only a vague stickiness between her thighs when she squeezed them together, as if she could hold onto the way it had felt when he’d been inside her, not just in the kitchen when he had…had…She flushed hot all over again. It had been a long time since anyone had shoved her up against the wall like that. Gentleness and love-making, they both had their place. But sometimes, a girl just wanted to be plowed into the plaster. Jackson was a good plow-er. He was…wow. Just wow.
Guilty thoughts of Robert surfaced in her mind. Robert had been wow, too. Just in different ways. He’d always been gentle with her in bed. Careful of where he touched her. Tender. He wasn’t much for anal, either.
No point in making comparisons, though. It didn’t matter anymore. Somewhere
His cock sprang up between them, hot against his belly, hard and insistent as it sought to lie in the valley of her buttocks. He ripped the condom wrapper with his teeth and got the condom on. He angled down between her legs, finding the entrance now smeared with Ben-Gay, so hot, so unbelievably tight.
His groans mingled with hers.
“Yes, yes!” She scraped the wall, raking at the paint with both claw-like hands. “Please, God, fuck! Please!”
He sank in slow, stretching her gently until he felt that first ring of muscle give way. He would have filled her gradually, but all that ended when she shoved her hips back and impaled herself on as much of him as she could get inside her. That first animal grunt of both pleasure and pain was his absolute undoing. He surged into her after that, slamming her back up against the wall until his hips were slapping against her ass and she was flat against the paint, unable to find the leverage to shove back any more to meet him.
He had to get deeper, better angled. He had to thrust, and he had nothing sturdy to grab onto. Hooking his arm around her waist, he jerked her off the wall and threw her down over the nearest section of counter instead. He grabbed her hair, winning another animal cry when he yanked her head back and slammed into her now, as hard as he could manage, all the way up to his aching balls. His hot, aching balls. Fiery hot, even.
Shit. The ointment. It was on him now, too.
Jackson didn’t stop. It was heating, searing into him as thoroughly as if he were cooking his balls and now the whole underside of his shaft on the stove right next to the pan of chicken. That little bit of Ben-Gay was enough to take him through a good fifteen minutes of sheer, unadulterated hell, but Sara made it worth the trip. The tight heat of her body amplified the burn until it had seared through every tender nerve ending. His cock felt seared by it, but he couldn’t stop. He took her until they were both shouting, both burning, both shuddering one right after the other in fiery convulsions so agonizing it was hard to believe they could be orgasms. Heaven and hell, intertwined.
It hurt, but it was beautiful.
* * * * *
Sara awoke to a room filled with soft snores. At first, she couldn’t remember why the bedroom, lit by streams of bright morning sunlight that spilled in around the heavy black window draping, was so unfamiliar.
She was naked, her wrists were cuffed together, and there was a warm, heavy arm draped around her waist. It wasn’t Robert’s arm. It was too big to be Robert’s. Thighs like tree trunks were pressed up against the backs of her legs. A very solid length of morning wood was nestled between her buttocks, pointing up toward the small of her back.
Heat flooded upon her instant recognition of it. Of the ointment he’d smeared into her, there were no lingering effects that she could feel. No more heat. No tenderness. Only a vague stickiness between her thighs when she squeezed them together, as if she could hold onto the way it had felt when he’d been inside her, not just in the kitchen when he had…had…She flushed hot all over again. It had been a long time since anyone had shoved her up against the wall like that. Gentleness and love-making, they both had their place. But sometimes, a girl just wanted to be plowed into the plaster. Jackson was a good plow-er. He was…wow. Just wow.
Guilty thoughts of Robert surfaced in her mind. Robert had been wow, too. Just in different ways. He’d always been gentle with her in bed. Careful of where he touched her. Tender. He wasn’t much for anal, either.
No point in making comparisons, though. It didn’t matter anymore. Somewhere
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