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|Without Me(Men of Inked #7) by Chelle Bliss|
Her hand slid from my thigh to my balls as she palmed them. One hand worked my cock with her mouth while the other fondled me. It was perfect and heavenly. When I opened my eyes and stared down at her, an internal struggle began.
Should I fuck her and leave? I wanted to make her feel as shitty as I’d felt over the last few weeks. My head had been spinning from the back-and-forth. How could you profess your love one moment and then do a complete one-eighty and turn cold as ice?
I wound my fingers in her hair and yanked roughly, pulling her mouth off my dick. “Not like this,” I growled as she peered up at me with saliva hanging from her lips.
I tilted forward, licking her mouth clean before kissing her. As I rose to my feet, I brought her with me, my hands firmly planted on her arms. The tiny silk nighty she was wearing didn’t have a chance beneath my hands. I forwent the easier route of letting it fall off her shoulder. It tore from her skin, falling into a heap on the floor.
“Anthony,” she mumbled on my lips.
“Shhh,” I replied. Honestly, I didn’t give a fuck what she thought or how she felt. I wanted to fuck her, and when I walked out the door tomorrow, I wanted her to miss me.
After ripping off my pants, I lifted her and impaled her on my cock. Not working it in gently, making sure she was ready to handle my size. Nope. I slammed her body down over my hardened length, burying myself balls deep inside her.
“Fuck,” she hissed as her pussy clenched.
I pushed her down with more force than the first time. “Feel me?” I asked, repeating the motion.
She clawed at my shoulders as she milked me. “Anthony,” she pleaded as her feet dug into my ass.
I didn’t know if she had been begging me to stop or keep going, but either way, I didn’t relent. I didn’t make love to her like she was my girlfriend. I fucked her like I’d fucked the countless women before she’d wrecked me.
When I looked at her, watching her mouth gasp for air as I battered her with my cock, I reminded myself that she wasn’t the woman I loved. Max had two personalities, and the one fucking me back was the one I hated.
Our bodies crashed into the wall as I tried to get more traction. Resting her body on the wall, I violated her. Pumping into her like a machine, unable to stop myself until I came. Her wet heat surrounded me, milking my dick for more like a greedy bitch.
Her nails tore my skin, causing me to cry out in pain. My grunts melded with hers, sounding like the perfect melody of pleasure. My balls grew heavy, and I felt like the end was near. Without wanting to lose the momentum I had built, I pushed her back harder toward the wall and gripped her under her legs. I pumped, slammed, and fucked her with all the anger that had been pent up inside me for weeks.
She screamed through the pleasure, enjoying every moment of the fucking I was giving her. When I grunted through the last couple of thrusts, my pace became erratic as my dick wept inside of her and I knew it would be the last time I’d feel her from the inside.
“More,” she cried out, riding my cock even though I had stopped moving.
I had no breath left, since I’d given everything I had in the pursuit of my pleasure. I released her, letting her use her body to prop herself up and continue on her carnal quest. Resting my hands on the wall and framing her face, I watched as she bucked, chasing her release.
Through my hard breaths I grinned. She had to work for her pleasure. For the first time since I’d met her, I wasn’t going to make sure she came multiple times. It was a prick move, but she deserved to be left without the satisfaction only I could bring.
Just as her body stiffened and she began to cry out, the doorbell rang.
“Oh my God!” she yelled as her pussy contracted, milking my softening dick.
Clutching my shoulder, she ignored the door and continued to ride me like a fuck toy. It was how she’d treated me lately, so why would this night have been any different?
When her head fell forward, the doorbell rang again.
“Fuck,” she mumbled on top of my shoulder. “I can’t,” she blew out between breaths.
It double rang. Whoever was standing on the other side of the door was persistent.
“Go get dressed and I’ll answer it,” I told her as she slid down my body.
“Okay,” she said as she tried to stand on wobbly legs, swaying slightly. “Whoever it is, tell them to go away.”
“It’s probably some asshole selling something,” I said, picking my pants up and pulling them on as the doorbell chimed again. “Coming. Christ!” I yelled as I zipped up my pants and stalked toward the door with the button left undone. “What?” I barked as I flung open the door and grabbed for my button.
“Um,” a small voice said with a squeak.
My eyes slowly drifted up after seeing a pair of red flats. There were a couple of things I knew in this moment. First off, those were not Nita’s or Malia’s feet. I’d heard them talk about fashion enough to know they would never wear flats. The flowered dress that hung below her knees screamed grandma, or mother at least.
A few weeks before, I might have freaked out, but now I smiled to myself, knowing that Max’s charade would come crumbling down.
My gaze meandered up her body, finally settling on her face. I grinned at her. She was definitely Max’s mother. I stared at her, waiting to hear her screams, but her reaction totally threw me for a loop.
Her eyes scanned over me, taking time to soak in my chest before they met mine. Instead of yelling, she gave me a sinful stare and held out her hand.