Page 86 of For Cowgirls and Kings

“Holy fuck,” I cry hoarsely, my voice as strangled as my dick at this point. I feel out of my mind, words and complete thoughts jumbled or missing all together.

My hands still mindlessly push and pull at her hips, her clit now rubbing against the base of my cock, and a fresh wave of liquid pools between us. Her hands run through my hair, tugging and pulling at the roots, her heavy tits pressed against my chest. I feel on fire every place we’re touching, and I let her grind and explore for several moments.

It’s more important to me that she feels in control, that she likes and wants to do this, than it is for me to get oxygen. I’ll die with a smile on my face if this is as far as we ever get.

“Mateo—” she mewls, her tongue lapping at my throat, my ear, my shoulder.

“Yes baby. Whatever you want.”

“I want you to fuck me. I want you to show me how to do it. It all feels so fucking good, and so fucking different. I just—” She sits up, her eyes so glassed over, eyelids heavy, hair wild around her face—her beauty kicks the little oxygen I have left from my fiery lungs. “I like control, but this time, I want you to do it. I want you to show me how you like it so next time I know what to do.”

I want you to show me how you like it so next time I know what to do.

The chains I shackled my restraint in fall away from my body, vibrating through my subconscious with a loud clunk.Next time.

“You tell me if anything hurts, do you hear me? I need to trust you’ll tell me, no matter what.” I stare into her eyes, my heart hammering in my chest. She bites at her bottom lip, and then nods.

It’s the only signal I need.

Lifting her up, careful not to slide out of her, I tuck her beneath me. Her black hair, some ripped free from its braid, lays like little glistening strips of night sky over my sheets.

I start pistoning my hips, grinding equal parts to thrusting, and her moans fill the room. Each cry seeping into the cracks of my brain, branding herself permanently as a part of my soul. I’ll never be the same again, and I don’t want to be.

Picking up pace, the slapping sound of my balls hitting her flesh spurring my need to move faster, harder inside of her. Her fingers claw at my back, at my neck, and I know I’ll be covered in marks tomorrow.

Her fucking marks.

“Bite me baby. Make me yours,” I hiss the words, desperateto be claimed by this woman who’s too good for any man, especially one like me.

She leans up, and I wrap an arm under one of her knees allowing me to pound deeper inside of her. She screams, her teeth sinking into my neck. The mix of pain, and the euphoric grip of her pussy around my cock has an orgasm sparking at the base of my spine.

It’s too fucking soon.I have to make her come first.

Dropping her leg, I sit up, and she grabs for me, a frustrated cry pulled from her lips. I smirk down at her, and her eyes widen. “So fucking greedy for my cock aren’t you Dale? Who knewthe friendcould make your pussy so wet. Tell me, do you think any of your other friends would fuck you like this? Would anyone’s cock feel as good as mine buried inside of your pussy?”

I look down at the wetness we both feel slicking my thighs, and she groans, writhing beneath me. “Yes, I love when you talk dirty.”

I slowly push in and out, forcing myself to focus on lasting, while she looks more and more desperate by the second.Keep it together Mateo, fuck!

I slow my pace, pulling another cry from her. “You didn’t answer my questions Dale.” Her eyes ping open, looking at me like I’ve completely lost it. And fuck, if this is losing it, I don’t ever want to be sane again. I have to hear her say no one would feel better—I have to know it’s as good for her as it is for me. “Would anyone else’s cock feel as good? Tell me.”

Her fingers claw at my chest, and she opens her mouth, but no words come out. I slow down my thrusts even more—barely pushing in. It’s torture, but I’ll do it for as long as it takes for her to find the words.

“Fuck, Mateo. No, fuck! No one—” She squeezes her eyes shut, her hips lifting as if with a mind of their own, “no one could ever feel this fucking good. No one is as big, or hard, or asgood at fucking as the fucking king. You’re the king of this pussy.”

I groan, my eyes fluttering shut. I want to punish her for her smart ass words—but even laced with irritation and mockery, they send a bolt of desire firing through me straight to my aching balls.

“That’s”—thrust—“fucking”—thrust—“right.”

“Fuuuccckkk yes,” she screams, and I look down at her, writhing beneath me. Her one hand is pulling at the roots of her own hair, the other has started rubbing little circles on her swollen clit. I watch her work—mindless and desperate.

“Your pussy looks so pretty swallowing my cock baby. Like it was made to be filled by me—” I pause, thrusting harshly into her, stretching her once more. Her back bows, eyes rolling back into her head, “and me alone.”

“Fuck yes,” she pants, little beads of sweat covering her warm, perfect skin. I drop one hand, using mine to push hers away, my own thumb finding her clit. I begin to rub small, focused circles on the sensitive bundle, and she screams at the contact.

“That’s it, scream for me. Let everyone know thatyour friendis making you scream. Scream my fucking name.”

Her pussy clamps around my cock, her orgasm close. But I don’t want it like this for her. I want her on top. I want her in control.