Page 88 of Jensen

She obeys, biting her lip. I run my hand over her ass, leaving trails of oil on her skin. The low whine she lets out when I touch her asshole is euphoric. It brings me back over the edge, wiping my mind clean. My fingers slip inside, and I’m surprised at how relaxed she is—she wants this badly.

I want her like this too. Raw, surrounded by these things that made us.

My fingers pump, in and out, until I can’t hold back anymore. She’s loose, moaning with her ass pushed up as I pull my fingers out. Bracing my palm on the flaking floorboard, I guide myself into her. She tenses so hard, I can’t get the head in.

“This your first time for this, baby?” I pant.

Sheshakes her head. “No, but it’s been a while.”

That makes me see red, but not at her—at the hands that touched her before mine. Rice digs into my slick palm. I brace my fingertips until my knuckles go white. My head dips, and I kiss the nape of her neck and bite down. Not as hard as last time, but enough to distract her for a second.

She relaxes. The head of my clock slips in. My vision flashes at how tight she grips me. Her spine arches, face to the side with her cheek digging into the rice, undulating her hips, begging for more.

My knee aches, torn open through my pants. She’s a beam of light within long-empty walls, a cold war over, surrendered to these feelings that only she seems to understand and want as badly as I do.

“More, please,” she begs.

I give her all of me, sliding in until she’s warm against my groin. Then, we both break our last barrier, and everything is raw, animalistic sex. Fucking, moaning, fingernails raking into the floorboards. I can smell how turned on she is, on my face, on my hands. I can feel that I’m already leaking precum into her ass. I wonder if she feels it too.

“Please,” she moans. “Please.”

We’re on a tightrope. I test her, and she tests me back. We fuck, her with her spine curved up, taking me. Me braced over her, panting hard as waves of heat and pleasure roll through. She’s clamped down on me so hard, I don’t know if I can finish like this. I’ve got Crisco down my inner thighs as I pump deep, rutting my hips against her naked ass.

“Jensen,” she gasps.

I dip down, grazing her shoulder with my mouth. “Baby.”

“Hard, slow,” she begs.

Fuck.

I drag my hips back, pausing, and then slam into her ass. She arches, and I feel the pain shudder through her body. This time, it seems to soothe her, and she eases the stranglehold she has on my cock.

“You beautiful fucking bitch,” I say. “God, you love taking me up your ass like a whore. Tell me.”

She moans, barely audible. I take her chin, forcing her face to the side.

“Tell me,” I order.

Her lashes flutter, eyes rolling back. I fuck slow and deep.

“I love it. I love taking you in my ass,” she whispers.

I grind my hips, pressing her clit into the rice beneath her hips. She twists, writhing. Her lips part, and I push my fingers into her mouth.

“Suck them. Suck like you suck me off,” I grit out.

She obeys, pulling them to the back of her throat. Then, she shudders, seizing, and she comes so hard, she’s frozen. With the other hand, I rip the clothespins off her nipples, and she screams around my fingers. The Crisco is making a mess of the rice and peeled paint beneath our bodies. Through it runs her arousal, trickling over the floorboards.

White heat travels down my spine, and I let my forehead drop to the nape of her neck. My spine bows. My hips rut into her ass as I give her everything I’ve got. I’ve felt less beaten at the end of a losing fight.

And that’s so fucking dangerous.

“Della,” I whisper into her hair.

She moans, still quivering.

“Are you alright?” I press.