Page 78 of Not So Goode

“Like it loose like this.”

“In the way, most of the time. Pain in the ass.”

He wasn’t moving—not to fuck me, at least. His hand, the one not gripping my hair, was caressing my body, shoulders, back, spine, sides. Down to my ass, patting one cheek, then the other.

Back to my shoulders, pressed his palm between my shoulder blades, a gentle pressure. “Bend over, sweetheart.”

I slid my feet wide apart and bent forward, hands on the sink, gripping the sides. I looked at him in the mirror—like this, I could see us. Both of us. Me, my tits swaying and my hair loose and crazy around my face and back and shoulders, caught up in his hands to pile it on my head and still spilling everywhere. Him, huge and sun-bronzed, hard-muscled, lean, heavy stubble on his angular jaw, eyes burning, hair messy. My ass spread out, round, his hips sharp angles behind my curves, framing my spread-out ass.

I looked…sultry. Erotic. My cheeks were flushed. Spine curved and sinuous, generous heart-shape of my ass and pale skin in contrast to his darker flesh. My breasts hung heavy under me, swaying, nipples hard. I had never seen anything so erotic in my life. I felt a level of sensuality I had never felt before and I wanted more.

“Touch your pussy, Charlie. Want you to come again before I do.” His words reverberated, low and growled.

BAM-BAM-BAM. A fist on the door. “Gotta piss, man.”

“Fuck off.” Crow’s voice was a bark of command.

Nothing else from the other side of the door.

“Where was I?” He ran his empty hand down my spine, to my ass. “Oh yeah.”

I braced one hand on the sink. Slid the other between my thighs, found my clit. Touched it, circled it. A single touch, one soft swipe of fingertip around the turgid little nub, and I was flying, core squeezing, fluttering, gut flipping and tightening, thighs shaking. “Crow…”

He pulled back, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. Slow, gentle. Letting me get reacquainted with him. “Charlie.”

I felt my fingers working faster, now, moving of their own accord, and my hips followed suit, flexing, tipping, swiveling. He began matching my rhythm, pushing into me faster and faster as I built myself up to climax.

I watched myself in the mirror—watched my mouth drop open, eyes go wide. Watched my tits sway back and forth as I melted into his thrusts, met him with my own. Watched my ass smash back into his hips, watched the way my ass jiggled as I met his body.

God, I was sexy.

Him, fucking me—that was sexy.

He was sexy.

But I was…I was a goddess. Made for sex. I was made for Crow, for him fucking me.

I let a loud cry slice out of me, let my groan become a scream as intensity built, as my hips pivoted and my ass pushed backward into Crow. He grunted, feeling me tense, feeling me use my inner muscles to clench around him as my climax built to a crescendo.

“Charlie, fuck—I feel you comin’, baby.”

“I’m coming, Crow, I’m coming again.”

“I feel it. Feel you squeezing me.”

I clenched hard again. “Like this?” I lost the ability to control it, then, as the climax took over, and I felt myself just spasming, squeezing. “Ohh fuck!”

“Come for me, Charlie!” he snarled. “Love the way you come all over my cock, baby girl.”

I lost all thread of control then, and just let go. I screamed, tears running down my cheeks, slamming back against him, shaking all over.

And then he was roaring, and his hand in my hair tightened, yanked. Hard, a twinge of pain, but just enough to make the orgasm I was still lost in all the more powerful.

Especially when he stopped matching my rhythm and gave me his own. “My turn.”

I met his eyes, and felt my whole body shiver, felt goose bumps all over my body at the look on his face. “Oh fuck…yes please.”

He laughed, a low rumble of amusement. And then he powered into me.