Page 106
Story: Craving Consequences
Fuck if she doesn’t look like the start of some racy adult movie.
“Sorry,” she whispers, eyes a little too dark and focused on my face. “I wanted to see you.”
The bag drops at my feet with a clatter of sticks and padding. I don’t remember letting it go, but I’ve already forgotten all about it.
“Did you need something?”
The way her throat muscles flex, I don’t know if I want to hear it. But I’m dying to hear it.
“I ... I used to...” she breaks off. Even in the dim film of light barely filtering through the blinds, I can see her reservation. Feel the heat burning her cheeks. “I have a ... a fantasy I think about sometimes. Mainly at night.”
She stops and I’m so fucking hard I can’t think over the roar of blood between my ears.
“What kind of fantasy?” Because I’ll make it happen. I’ll do whatever she wants.
She edges deeper into the room. I don’t think she takes that many steps, but she’s in front of me, small and delicious and smelling of strawberries and rain.
“Can I suck you?” she whispers so low I nearly miss it. It’s only the brush of her fingers on my belt buckle that confirms I’m not losing my mind. “Here?”
I get no say when she’s already dragging the belt through the hooks and yanking my snaps open. My dick practically springs straight into her palms with excitement.
“Everly...”
Thought process vanishes with the descent of her falling to her knees in front of me. It’s a wisp of smoke with the first brush of her lips around my head. My low, tortured whine earns her eyes up to my face.
God, she’s perfect like this. Perfect with her pink lips sucking lightly on my cap, fingers curled around my shaft.
“This is your fantasy?” I choke out, transfixed by the sight of her kneeling before me, pressing kisses to my scorched flesh.
She only quirks her lips up on one side, impish and adorable.
I forget my question with the slow descent of her mouth taking my cock deep. Not too deep. She gets halfway before pulling back and repeating. Unhurried. Like we have all the time in the world. Like she can do this all day.
I’m in heaven. I don’t think anything can make this better when Everly reaches down and drags her top up over her head.The fabric is tossed aside, leaving her beautifully bare, except the lacy, white bra holding her tits to me like a pair of offerings.
I think I’m about to ask her what she’s doing but her hands are at her short snaps and her mouth is open and waiting to get filled.
I don’t think. I place my head against her bottom lip and sink in, groaning as she stiffens her lips and swirls her tongue down my shaft.
“Fuck, sweetheart...”
Without a word, without taking her eyes off me, she stands. Her shorts slide down in a puddle of denim at her ankles.
“Ev—”
I’m shoved.
I outweigh her by a lot, but the back of my knees catch the bed and I land in a heap across the mattress.
“This is my fantasy,” she whispers, climbing over me, long legs bracketing my hips.
I don’t know when she pulled her panties off, but her pussy is bare and wet, and stationed over my throbbing cock. I don’t ask but lay still as she aligns her opening and sinks.
Her wet channel envelops me like a greedy fist. Gripping me with a strength that has me seeing stars. I groan, long and desperate as she sheathes me to the hilt. Her fingers anchor into my chest, nails digging, holding down like she’s staking her claim.
I don’t move. I don’t think I can.
Every muscle is tight, locked with fear and need. Somewhere at the back of my mind, my brain is screaming that this is wrong. We’re on my son’s bed — her ex’s bed — and she’s riding me like I’ve dreamt about too many times.
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