Page 43 of Demon
I pulled her legs around me, pushing myself in to her with hard heavy thrusts. And then I kissed her, filling her mouth with my tongue, slamming my cock into her over and over until I was grunting into her mouth. Between her legs I felt the muscles shaking, little, tiny vibrations as her body gave over to me. Then, breaking the kiss, I grabbed at her wet hair, pushing my forehead to hers and pulsing deep and hard until that same jolt of electricity erupted in my balls, flowing up my shaft, filling her with hot cum. Fuck.
My legs were still shaking, my cock still filling her when she spoke, her voice hoarse as if I’d fucked her throat too. I would. In good time.
“Demon, everyone’s gonna know.”
“Know what? That we’re fucking?”
“Yes.”
“So what?” The embarrassment across her face hit me hard in the chest.
“They’ll look at me different.”
“How?”
“Because that’s what people do.”
“OK. And?”
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
I was confused. Fucking women and the odd ways their minds worked.
“No. I love it that people know it’s my cock filling you. And my cum running down your legs all night. Does it bother you?”
She bit her lip, uncertainty darkening her eyes. And the jolt hit me again in the chest.
“I don’t want anyone treating me differently.”
“Why would they do that?”
“In case they think I’m your old woman.”
“Ol’ lady,” I corrected. “And just because we’re fucking doesn’t make you my ol’ lady.” There was a glimmer of disappointment in her eyes. And that hint of disappointment warmed my heart. “But if you were my ol’ lady, they would look at you different. Because they’d all know you’re mine and they’d keep their fucking eyes off you.”
Ciara looked up at me, her brown eyes smouldering. Maybe the words were too strong? But I didn’t think it was that. It was something else. The words made her pussy smoulder, too. I could see it on her face. She wanted to be someone’s. She was just too fucking stubborn to say it. And maybe so was I? Or maybe it was the fear of rejection. That she might not actually want me. I felt the acid taste in my mouth just at the thought, the thick hatred seeping into my bloodstream at the sheer suggestion that she might want someone else, or that someone else might touch her like I did. But I was too fucking pussy to do anymore about it.
“How’s your dad?” she asked suddenly.
“How’s my Da?” I repeated like a parrot.
“Uh, huh? Is he ok? I heard nothing from any of you.”
“Can we not talk about my Da when my cock’s still inside your pussy?”
Ciara shrugged, leaning back onto her hands on the dressing table. Our bodies still joined.
“He’s been discharged now. Antibiotics for a chest infection. Now, can we not talk about him again when I’m fucking you?”
“You’re not fucking me anymore. We’re done.”
A voice from the very far side of the changing rooms interrupted the conversation.
“Demon. You reckon you two are finished?” Tez asked, cracking the door open but not daring to enter. “I’ve got girls here needing to get ready. And I need someone on the bar. I’ve had to pull the fucking pints myself.”
“Aye, alreet. We’re coming.”
The door drifted back into its place with a soft click.