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|Without Me(Men of Inked #7) by Chelle Bliss|
When I felt an added pressure on the bottom of my length, I peered down at her. She had a finger in her mouth, applying pressure and crushing the underneath of my shaft. As she pulled my dick from her mouth, her finger slipped out and glistened in the light.
I closed my eyes again, not caring about anything but the feel of her mouth on my skin. I didn’t care what she did as long as she didn’t stop. When I had done that to her earlier, I hadn’t thought about payback. It might not have been my brightest move.
When her damp finger pushed into my asshole, I peered down at her with raised eyebrows. It wasn’t that I wasn’t into that, but most women weren’t. Often, it was too kinky for them, and I never went as far as asking outright for it. Max didn’t need the prompting, as she peeked up at me with my cock buried in her mouth.
I smiled down at her before closing my eyes again, guiding her head into a faster rhythm. As her finger slipped inside, she found my prostate and began to stroke it. Between her mouth and the way she massaged my insides, the sensation was overwhelming. I couldn’t last. I wouldn’t last.
Nothing else in the world existed. Just Max and me as she literally had me by the balls, sucking me off to perfection. The pressure of her finger amplified everything, causing every muscle in my body to tighten.
“Christ,” I whispered, unable to lift my head. All the energy I had was being used to stave off the orgasm that was ready to break free and alter my world forever. There wasn’t anything normal or basic about the blow job or Max. She was fucking me, and not just with her mouth.
She bore down and picked up the pace. I became lost, my mind hazy from the feel of her mouth and her finger. Unable to take it any longer, I tensed and rode the wave. Releasing the pent-up frustration, the need I felt for her, and the lust she made me feel, I came in her mouth. As I groaned through the pleasure, my body jerked, raked by aftershock after aftershock of pleasure.
I’d like to say that I held out and came inside her, bringing her to orgasm at the same time, but it would be a lie. I was a selfish prick, after all. Changing who I was at my core wouldn’t be an easy process—even when it pertained to Max.
I was a dog, too old to learn new tricks, no matter whose mouth was latched on to my cock.
After I caught my breath and my limbs no longer felt like jelly, I pulled her up by the arms and kissed her. Our arousal swirled together, mixing in our mouths as our tongues tangled. The scent along with the taste surrounded me, making me want more.
I could lie and say that I instantly hardened and began to fuck her, but even though I claimed to be a beast in bed, I knew I wasn’t fucking Superman. I spent the next thirty minutes teasing her breasts and eating her pussy like it was the finest meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant. Even though I was sated, I still wanted more of her.
While driving her over the edge time and time again, using nothing but my fingers and my mouth, I felt myself harden. Once I was ready to slide inside her and find out if it felt like home, I grabbed a condom from my back pocket, but I wanted to fuck her in the bedroom.
Without breaking my cunnilingus-athon, I carried her to bed with her knees over my shoulder and my mouth attached to her cunt. I didn’t let walking get in the way of me eating her pussy. Although she protested at first, she grabbed my legs and enjoyed the ride.
The rest of the night passed in a blur. I didn’t know if the alcohol was causing my memory to be fuzzy or if I was becoming intoxicated and consumed by my lust for her, but the sex was explosive and heavenly.
Those weren’t words I used often when describing sex with a girl. But Max wasn’t any girl. She was the girl. Once I sank my dick inside her, I knew I was doomed.
I knew I’d become one of those pussy-whipped heaps of flesh I’d described my brothers as before Max.
After Max had entered my world and fucked with my head along with my body, nothing else was the same.
If I had known where she’d lead me, maybe I wouldn’t have taken the first step on this journey. I might not have chased her and placed myself in her path, giving her no option than to confront her feelings for me.
No matter how hard the journey was and no matter what an asshole I’d been in the past, I wanted her to like me. Trying to find a way for her to accept and reciprocate the feelings I had for her would be the challenge.
Only I, asshole and cocky fucker to the masses, would fall in love with the one woman who wanted nothing to do with me.
Not even after breaking down her walls and catching a glimpse of what could be. She shut me out, tossing me aside like a piece of trash.
The morning after I’d found my way into her house—and, ultimately, into her pussy—she didn’t wake with a warm attitude.
“I think you should go,” she said as I rolled over and looked at her.
I didn’t know what to say as the words soaked in. I’d never been thrown out or excused by a woman. Never.
“What?” I asked.
“I have to get to work. It was fun, but I need you to leave.”
“What?” I repeated, still not accepting that her attitude had changed since last night.
I’d thought I’d made headway, that things could be different. I’d really believed that maybe we could date or I could at least take her to dinner. What the hell was I saying? Maybe I’d been drugged the night before, because usually, I’d be elated to have a free pass to leave. In that moment, it just plain sucked.
“Thanks for the good time, Anthony. Last night won’t happen again.” She slipped her arms through the sleeves of her robe and tied it shut. “So I need you to get dressed and go home.”