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Story: Pucking His Enemy

When she walks toward me, my dick kicks with interest. Her boldness is the best kind of torture. When she’s finally close enough for me to feel her body heat, I take a deep breath and let my hand drift to her hip. Her hands rest against my chest, and I know tonight’s going to be fucking amazing.

I just hope this boldness follows us to the bedroom.

“I think we should have a party all our own,” she says, her voice dropping an octave. “Unless... you’re all talk?”

Challenge fucking accepted.

I grip her hips and pull her tight against me.

The softness of her breasts makes me dizzy, and when there’s not even room for air between us, I breathe her in.

There’s something innocently sweet about her scent that makes me want to wreck her until all she can smell is me.

This territorial need is new—normally, I don’t give a shit about who a woman’s been with before or after me.

But right now, I want to make sure when she’s with someone else, all she remembers is the burn of my touch and the feeling of me deep inside her.

“I talk well enough,” I say, moving toward a door I spotted earlier.

I know it has a bed and everything we might need—condoms, lube, maybe a whip or two.

I enjoy my kinks, but right now, all I want is to see her pretty mouth stretched around my cock and hear her moans when I sink inside her.

“But nothing compared to how I back it up.”

“I suppose I’ll see if that’s true,” she replies, eyes darkening.

“I’ll be supremely disappointed if you put all this to waste.” She gestures at my body.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” I growl, “if you walk out of here on steady legs, I’ll be the most disappointed man in Florida.”

Her breathing quickens as she bites her bottom lip. Her tongue peeks out to wet it.

I follow the motion before claiming her lips.

Some women like a slow build of little kisses, but I’m not built for slow.

I fuck like I play— hard and rough. I want my memory to haunt her thoughts when I’m gone.

I push the door open and guide her backward, shutting it firmly behind us.

Slick sounds fill the air as I grasp those dirty blonde curls that catch the low light.

The room is dimly lit, creating the perfect atmosphere for what’s coming.

The only sounds are our heavy breathing and fabric rustling as we strain against each other— until I hear it.

A soft moan scratching from her throat.

It sends electricity down my spine as I turn us until her back hits the wall.

“Getting loud on me already, sweetheart?” I tease, sliding my fingers through her silky waves.

When her pupils dilate and her breath hitches as I tighten my grip— I know I’ve struck gold.

The way her eyes widen makes me wonder if she’s ever felt this before.

I don’t trick myself into thinking she’s some virgin, but her uninhibited response to my rougher touches feels raw and genuine.