Page 17

17

UNLEASH THE BEAST

SHILOH

M y back slams so hard against the wall that a numb tingle ricochets up my spine, glitching my brain into standby mode as I struggle to breathe some sobriety into my lungs.

Fulton’s fingers cage my jaw, and he bends down to whisper in my ear. “Tell me about the kiss, Shiloh.” His voice is a growl, gut-deep, forged from an appetite that I know won’t be satiated by my blatant half-truths.

He’s talking about my kiss with Aeris.

Even though he’s being rough with me, there’s no threat backing his words or actions. I feel giddy about the possibility of being destroyed and recreated under his Midas touch.

“It was…”

“Did you like tongue-fucking her in front of me?”

With a harsh buck of his hips into my lower half, I can feel the buildup of arousal stressing against the zipper of his pants. I grind my pelvis over the bulge, a pathetic noise strangling in my throat.

“Are you jealous, Fulton?” I tease, feeling his distended cock stir in response, and maybe I’m as much of a masochist as he is, but I can’t help the miniature waterfall of slick that pools in my underwear.

Fulton’s such a gentle spirit. He’s so patient, so kind, so understanding. But the beast in me yearns for the beast in him, and when it comes to the raw, animalistic facets of sex, he transforms into something so unlike himself that it’s almost like he has a split personality. He’s like a rabid dog resource guarding, baring its fangs and biting at anyone who comes near his precious, precious toys.

I’ve never been wanted like that before.

“Jealous? Jealous ?” His grip on my chin tightens, the sinews of his back roiling with so much pent-up tension that each heavy inhale stretches the T-shirt across his chest. “Of course I’m fucking jealous, Shi. You put your tongue in someone else’s mouth.”

“We’re not together,” I remind him.

A stupid, childish part of me wants to suffocate him with that notion—wants him to refute it—but he doesn’t take the bait.

“We aren’t together, but that shit changes when you’re grinding that sweet little pussy over my cock.”

With the angle of his hips, he strokes upwards into my clothed cunt, and my legs part for him unresistingly as shame tickles my cheeks in a flash flood of heat. “You’re mine right now. Say it.”

Lust and anticipation draw taut behind my navel, the throbbing in my cunt suffering as an unremedied aftereffect. The pant legs of my romper are beginning to cinch and show my inner thighs, and any more exposure won’t bode well for the entirely soaked gusset of my panties. Fulton’s flush against me, the width of his hipbones pinning me in place like the prettiest Monet. Each time he breathes, I can feel his hard stomach expand .

“I’m…yours,” I gasp, tipping the scales of this arrangement as I claw my hand through his hair, gathering a fistful of strands and pulling.

“Are you going to let me undress you, Sunshine? Are you going to let me pull your panties down with my teeth?”

“Y-yes.”

Fulton’s hands play with the strap on my shoulder, and he nudges his head into my jaw, surmounting my nervous rigidity as he gains access to the vulnerable underbelly of my neck. His lips delicately suck the thin skin there, unearthing a passage of untouched flesh where his butterfly kisses imbed their transient nature into a sweat-dotted canvas.

“Come on, baby. I’m all about consent. I need you to use your full words for me.”

Shaky consonants stagger from my lips, my heart pounding like a mallet against the curvature of my ribs. My tenaciousness isn’t so much a result of repeating something so crude, but rather a result of initiating the pleasure-pain storm that’s about to strike a match on every one of my flammable nerves.

“You can pull my panties down. With your teeth.”

Fulton rushes me with his hands and lips, and a hungry outpouring of urgency has my tits bared to him in record time, my clothing shucked and thrown to the side as if it was nothing but an offending scrap of material. He leaves my undergarment, though—the one that’s been saturated with an unmissable dark spot.

Thankfully for me, the embarrassment is a gradual rumble instead of a thunderclap, and I take advantage of his tongue dragging against mine as he smears the spicy aftertaste of vodka across my taste buds. While I’ve still got him in my grasp, I grab blindly for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over the winding hills of his muscles. The beginning of a nearly inaudible whine develops deep in his chest—inexorable desire leaking through the blown-out aperture in his tone .

Shirt divested, his abdominals looking way too lickable for their own good, he continues his onslaught on my mouth—a melding of lips, a colliding of teeth, and a ruthless bite to any soft, plump surface in the immediate vicinity.

“I’ll be so good to you, Sunshine. I promise ,” he whispers in between kisses, hands coasting up and down the sides of my waist, the pressure against my belly growing tenfold as Fulton’s erection somehow hardens even more.

My head is all over the place. My attention shifts back and forth between the wetness painting my thighs, the broiling ache in my groin, the cooling state of our combined spit on my ravaged mouth, and the anticipatory upset that singes my stomach lining in the same way a potent shot of alcohol does.

This is it. We’re going to fuck. It’s happening. Holy shit, it’s happening. Stay calm, Shiloh. STAY CALM!

Without warning, Fulton drops into a squat so that he’s level with my pussy, and he latches his teeth on to the pink lace of my thong. Since his head obstructs my line of sight, all I can feel is the subsequent cold hitting my now-exposed skin.

I can’t help but squirm underneath his touch, though I blame anxiety’s unauthorized visit for the self-consciousness over my less-than-stellar appearance. I didn’t have time to shave today, and I definitely didn’t expect the night to end like this. I just don’t want him to be turned off by… you know .

He instructs me to kick off my underwear, and I obey immediately. Now I’m completely nude in front of the one man who could give Michelangelo’s David a run for its money.

Evening the playing field, Fulton strips off his pants and boxers. His long, thick cock bobs free from its cotton prison, the ruddy, flared head sticky as it rests against my belly. I’ve seen Fulton’s dick before, but it just…it looks scarier this time around.

The length is equivalent to my goddamn forearm, a topography of bluish veins lining his impressive shaft like a breadcrumb trail of tiny detonation points. He’s manscaped everything possible, drawing my attention to the pronounced silhouette of his heavy, hanging balls. I have no idea how he expects to fit inside me. That’s like trying to shove a USB charger into an iPhone charging port.

The one thing I didn’t want to happen was me overthinking. And now, my mind’s laughing at the sheer inadequacies of my body in comparison to his, and I absentmindedly adjust my legs so that my vagina isn’t just… hanging out …and disgusting him with its hairiness.

Fulton realizes something’s wrong immediately. Not almost immediately— immediately .

“What are you doing?” he questions.

I chew on my lower lip. “I, um, I just didn’t have the chance to shave before…”

He rears back in surprise, but not for the reason I expected. “You’re trying to hide from me because you feel bad for not shaving?”

“Kind of?”

With his hands gripping the backs of my thighs, Fulton glances up at me through his already-tousled hair, neutralizing my anxiety with a single look—a kind, pleading look that almost turns shiny with emotion.

“I never want you to feel like you have to shave for me, okay? Never, Sunshine. I don’t care. Any real man wouldn’t care. So you didn’t shave. Do you really think that’s going to stop me from fucking the most perfect pussy in all of existence?”

Before I get the chance to respond—which is probably for the best—Fulton lengthens to a stance, hikes me onto his hips, then carries me over to the bed in two large strides. I don’t think I’ve ever been this naked against him.

He gently sets me on the mattress, and I’m too lost in my own dopamine high to realize that Fulton grabbed something from off the floor. My libido is one degree away from cataclysmic destruction, and if my pussy doesn’t get some stimulation in the next few minutes, I’ll pull the trigger myself.

Through a bleary haze, I watch Fulton dangle my panties off his index finger.

“What are y?—”

“You’ve been a bad girl tonight, Shi. A very bad girl. And do you know what happens to bad girls?” he asks with cold detachment, letting my thong drop onto his erection and catch on the ruddy head of his cock—the one oozing beads of pre-cum and polishing his frenulum in a pearlescent sheen.

I shake my head, finally lucid enough to understand the gravity of the situation. “I don’t.”

Fulton tsks, bunching up the pink lace before wiping it over the glossy cap of his dick. My eyes are glued to the rippling line of his abdominal muscles—how they crunch and strain from the position he’s in. I need to taste him. I want to push him onto his back, straddle his hips, and lick up the sweat that’s accumulated since we stumbled into our hotel room.

But that’s something only a good girl gets to do.

“They get punished.”

Fulton keeps his salacious gaze on me the entire time, as if he’s peeling back layers upon layers of my skin until he reaches the fiery core that burns only for him. A second later, my underwear is thrown onto the bed.

“I want your hands behind your back, I want you belly up, I want your knees bent, and I want your pussy spread all the way open for me,” he demands.

I do as he says—my hands tucked between my spine and the surface of the mattress—and then I spread my legs so that he can get a direct look at the pathetic, weeping state of my neglected cunt. My walls clench around nothing, overeager to have any kind of stimulation .

Fulton groans, rubbing a lazy hand over his dick, wringing bits of pressure with the torque of his wrist. “Fucking hell. Look at you, Sunshine. You look decadent .”

After a solid minute of him gawking, he leans over me with his arms bracketing either side of me, and the monster between his legs drags over the comforter. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to stuff your mouth with your panties, and then I’m going to lick your sweet, tight little cunt. If you try to move your hands, or if you try to speak, I’ll stop immediately. Do you understand?”

I nod about ten times in a row. “I understand.”

“If you need me to stop at any time, you raise your leg straight in the air, okay? If anything feels uncomfortable, you let me know , Shiloh.”

God, could Fulton be more incredible? The fact that he advocates for safe sex and respecting boundaries…it makes me way hornier than if he were to slap me on the ass and call it a day.

“Please, Fulton. Please, I need?—”

“No, Sunshine. No begging. We talked about this.”

He leans over me to grab my discarded underwear, balling it up nice and tight before gently pulling my jaw down to make adequate room. And then, with minimal pressure and a meticulous hand, he feeds me my thong, making sure not to trigger my gag reflex.

Maw pried open—stuffed to the brim with a noise-preventing impediment—the smell and taste is what’s most overwhelming. A mixture of my cum, his cum, my smell, his smell, my sweat, his sweat—and I’m going to sound like a batshit crazy person, but it’s fucking orgasmic. The saltiness from both our arousals coats my tongue, and I wish I could inject his man musk straight into my veins.

Since I’m flat on my back, I can’t see what he’s doing unless I lift my head, and I deduce that after a few of those head lifts, my stomach muscles are going to be on fire. So, in a sense, I’m completely blind right now. I’m also embarrassingly wet.

Fulton doesn’t provide me with a preamble. He lays the flat of his tongue against my opening with no intention of plunging deeper. Then, languidly, he uses the dexterous muscle to employ a swirling motion while also balancing the occasional cutaway to a rapid succession of flicks. My back practically lifts off the bed, my legs start to shake, and my teeth clamp down on the nuisance in my mouth.

I squirm around, my pleasure cranking up the longer his tongue stimulates the nerves in my pebbled clit, and a muffled string of whimpers gets caught and disbanded by my panties. Fulton teases me with his mouth, listing it back and forth over my sex. Then he slowly pushes his tongue past my inner ring of muscle as an orchestra of lewd noises bounces off the walls. My thighs are the consistency of jelly while my cunt dilates around the foreign intrusion, the overproduction of my arousal lubricating his lips with little effort.

Oh, fuck. Oh, God. This is?—

Suddenly, a whoosh of cold air greets my pussy, and his magical mouth has been pulled off me.

“You were trying to speak, Sunshine. I stop when you do that, okay?”

I lift my neck to nod at him, and after a few seconds, he resumes, detouring to the swollen and sensitive rim of my hole. My cunt swallows the girth of his tongue greedily, my inner walls clinging to every flutter that he produces with the skill of a seasoned veteran.

Hyperaware of opening my fat trap, I focus all my attention on adjusting my lower half to the most prime position to feel everything . I’m contorting myself in ways I didn’t even know was possible.

“You’re doing so well. You’re being such a good girl for me. Make a mess for me, yeah? Ride my tongue. Paint my face in cum. Let me taste what I do to you.”

Fulton’s fingers are now in play, and they’re able to reach crevices that his tongue can only dream of. Between the edging, the praise, and the quiet dominance, my release-o-meter is at its breaking point. Maybe I would’ve lasted longer if the circumstances were less… restraining …but I’m going to turn into a wild animal if I have to wait any longer.

I don’t care about the moans or the whimpers that phase through the clump in my mouth, and apparently, neither does Fulton because he’s throwing his head back and grounding out a mantra of mercy. I don’t think he’s all the way there yet, but he’s getting pretty fucking close.

With one last dive into my cunt, Fulton aims for my G-spot like he’s hightailing it to a goal, his finger pressing down on that figurative little button that lights all my buzzers neon red. My sexual frustration comes bursting out of me as if a stopper has been pulled from a drain, and I drench Fulton’s face in a wash of cum.

I raise my head to find him moaning through his own sexual excitement, licking up every single drop of arousal that’s sullied the bottom half of his face. He doesn’t even look exhausted. I guess hockey stamina is a blessing and a curse. His dick is still as hard as granite, though, and I’m determined to change that if it’s the last thing I do.

He leans forward, taking the makeshift gag out of my mouth. “Let me clean you up,” he offers.

I sit all the way up and lean back on my palms, flaunting my tits. “No, Fulton. I want you inside of me. All of you.”

He freezes, half-paralyzed by my demand and half-paralyzed by the sight of my boobs. A paroxysm of worry ghosts over his face, and it would almost be laughable if it wasn’t for the direness of the situation.

“I’ve never…had sex. ”

Surprise blizzards through me. “Never?”

A shake of his head—one rife with embarrassment.

I grab his hand and hold it against my heart, where he can feel every overexerted thump heighten under his touch. “I’m ready if you are.”

Contemplation settles heavy on his face like the first snowfall in mid-October, and then I catch a glimpse of the predatory creature that was here moments before—the one still crouching in the tall grass in search of satisfaction. Fulton’s a giver. His only goal is to get his partner off. If he comes in the process, it’s an added bonus, but never a firm finish line.

But now, as I offer him the same effort he offered me, it takes him a lot less time to consider my proposal than I thought it would.

“Bend over. I want to see you milk every inch of my cock.”

He flips me unceremoniously onto my hands and knees—the evidence of my previous orgasm still dribbling down the insides of my thighs—and I’m about to wrestle tooth-and-nail with the beast that I’ve just unleashed.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, Sunshine. How I imagined you and your pretty little dresses every time my hand was wrapped around my dick, how I moaned your name whenever I came, how I couldn’t get you out of my fucking head for days on end. You were a sickness. A beautiful, beautiful sickness.”

My heart crowns timidly from a thick chrysalis—the mark of a new beginning. “You…waited for me?”

“I would’ve waited forever for you to be my first.”

Besotted, the butterflies are right on time as they dance in my belly, forming a tornado of wings that have me completely and utterly at Fulton Cazzarelli’s mercy.

Since I’m facing away from him, the tear of the condom is the only noise cluing me into his next move. And then I feel it: a burn so great that it has the potential to atomize my skin, my organs, my bones, everything . With his hand on my back, he feeds his cock into my pussy in slow increments to allow me to accommodate to his size, the first stretch alerting every single one of my pain receptors.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

I make a weak noise in the back of my throat, choosing to dig my nails into the comforter for some sort of support. “More than okay.”

“You’re perfect, Shi. Everything about you drives me crazy,” he coos into my ear, pushing his hips forward an inch so that he can fully sheathe himself inside my cunt.

Once the brunt of him hits my inner walls, it feels like I can’t even breathe . Tears break over my lash lines, pinching off into crystal droplets. “Fuck, Fulton. You’re so big.”

Since we’re both primed with an equal amount of arousal, it’s easy for him to ease himself out a little. “Am I hurting you?”

“I’ve just never felt so full before.”

I begin to rock backward into his groin, simultaneously milking his eight-inch cock that’s now buried inside me, and every time he engages in the seesaw-like motion, a heaviness presses down on my bladder.

“Jesus, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that,” he says through clenched teeth, fingernails printing crescents into the meat of my hips with enough force to draw blood.

My misbehaving cunt pulses around his shaft, sucking him deeper into me, and it takes him a few minutes to set a measured pace as he ruts his hips into my ass. I glance down to catch a gleam of slick shimmering at the apex of my thighs, and I inhale deeply through the tremors that test my extremities’ foundations. My previous climax nearly wiped me out. I don’t know how much longer I can take getting demolished by Fulton’s abnormally large cock.

“Can you go faster?” I whimper, the slapping of skin and the squelching of viscous liquids acting as a backing track in the otherwise silent room.

“Like this?”

Accelerating to an incomprehensible pace, Fulton bullies his dick against my walls, and there’s so much momentum that my breasts bounce with each thrust. “That’s… fuck …that’s perfect,” I moan.

I can feel his hands on the sides of my waist, but they never move lower.

“You can spank me, you know. I like it,” I divulge, and before Fulton needs to be told twice, he slaps my ass hard enough to make me pitch forward and bite down on my molars. My skin stings with pain, but the thought of his handprint tattooed on my butt overhauls the fresh, raw discomfort.

“Shit, sorry. Was that too rough?”

My airways clot with a breath untaken. “You don’t have to hold back, Fulton. I don’t want you to.”

Don’t get me wrong, I love that he’s trying to be respectful and gentle, but I know that he yearns for something more carnal— subhuman , even. He’s getting stuck in his own head. Fulton just needs some reassurance that it’s okay for him to let go.

“But—”

“Being out of control isn’t so scary, remember?”

After seconds of contemplation, he finally snaps. A man driven to the brink of madness; a predator driven to malevolence after being starved for so long.

My mind is like a never-ending reel of tape, and even the stutter of my heart isn’t fast enough to outperform the speed at which his cock slots itself into my stretched cunt. I want to scream into the bed. Each roll of his hips is a sledgehammer to my senses, blotting my vision with a slate of filmy white and agitating the molten desire burbling low in my abdomen .

Hazy stars begin to form behind each blink of my teary eyes. “I don’t know how much longer I can…”

“Sunshine, I’m about to come in the next three minutes whether I like it or not, but I’m not stopping until you make a mess of these sheets.”

One of Fulton’s hands snakes around to fondle my tit, and each squeeze of his fingers precedes a siege of powerful strokes that reach far enough to rearrange my insides. I wish I could see his orgasm face—the concentrated crunch of his brow, the pout of his lower lip, the whites of his eyes as they roll back into his head—but judging by the breathless, ragged pants rending the air, I think we’ve both long-jumped over our limits.

The sensation of him carving out my womb is becoming more and more unbearable. It’s like a deluge of histamine to the red swell of a mosquito bite, an urge to scratch knowing that doing so will only make the itchiness worse. The phantom feeling of my underwear in my mouth restricts me from freeing the mewl hedged in my chest, but with each coax of his punishing cock, my lips purse and open.

“That’s it. You can be as loud as you want now. Scream for me, Shi. Let everyone in Cabo know how good I make you feel. Let everyone know who owns this pussy,” Fulton drawls, reinforcing his words by teasing my G-spot with the head of his dick.

“It feels so good, Fulton!” I cry out, arching my back like a contented cat in a sunbeam, the decibel of my half moans and half screams vibrating through the walls and inundating the hallways of the hotel.

Sapped of energy, Fulton’s grip on my hips loosens, and the cadence of his strokes begin to turn sloppy. “Choke my cock like the good girl you are. I want you to remember every moment of me being inside you—the way I made your body burn, the way your greedy pussy squirted all over me. You’d think she hasn’t had a good fuck in months with the way she’s gushing, poor thing.”

Even though my cunt’s sore and abused, a vengeful part of me refuses to let Fulton off the hook so easily, especially with all the taunting that’s stretched my patience cotton-candy thin. I know he’s close. I can feel his cock enlarging inside me.

I stop moving. “No, you’re not coming right now. Not until I say you can.”

A cross between a chuckle and a groan tumble out of him, all grit and bass and a bone-shaking rumble that instills me with a vestige of fear. “God, I love that dirty mouth of yours. You make me so hard when you’re in control.”

“If you love it so much, then be a good boy and fuck my pussy like you can’t live without it.”

He obeys me, but that doesn’t stop him from mangling my ass cheeks with his large hands. When he rolls his hips, I match him in movement and tempo, the slippery suction of my cunt and his cock opening the floodgates.

With a guttural moan, I come all over Fulton’s dick just in time for him to take off like a geyser and jet streams of spend inside the condom. It’s so abundant that it never seems to stop, and if there wasn’t a latex barrier, the force and the magnitude would probably have me leaking for days.

Exhausted, I collapse onto the mattress with his shaft slowly deflating inside me, and he in turn crumples on top of me, careful not to give me his full weight. His breath stirs the baby hairs on my neck, his sweaty skin is warm to the touch, and I can feel his heart punting against his chest so vigorously that my own ribs hurt.

“Was…was that okay?” he asks meekly. “You can be honest. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

His question gets me to turn onto my back and face him, post-orgasm tears clumping in the corners of my burning eyes. “That was incredible, Ful. You’re incredible. ”

“I didn’t ruin it?”

I tuck a strand of rogue hair behind his ear. “Not at all. Did I?”

“Sunshine, the only thing you ruined for me was any other woman,” he reassures, holding me by my waist with a tenderness that’s been devoid this entire time. He marches his lips up my stomach with reverent kisses, cherishing me like I’m the only girl in the entire world.

Ironically, I think I’m even more fucked that I don’t totally despise that idea.