Defending Pacer - Hamilton T. J. (читать книги онлайн бесплатно без сокращение бесплатно txt) 📗
I lick the spot where I left a subtle mark. See what you do to me? I constantly fight with myself because of you.
Why couldn’t she just be like the other sluts I’ve fucked? Usually I’ve found something wrong with them at this point. But not you.
The bluest eyes glance sideways at me. Her devilish grin makes me lose my shit. I spin her around and push her against the wall. She does as she’s told and chuckles when her eyes meet mine.
Fuck!
I can’t keep away from her perfect little tits. They’re like two ripe mango halves, just crying out for me to suck on them. But there’s one place my tongue hasn’t been just yet, and I need to taste her. I can’t wait another moment. I hold her nipple between my lips and pull away, snapping it back when I finally let go, making my way to her pussy.
Crouching, I swing one of her legs over my shoulder and slide my tongue up her inner thigh. It’s as soft as butter, and as I get closer to her mound, my tongue slides with ease. She’s so fucking wet. I just want to bury my face into her sweet spot.
With my tongue flattened, I slide it up her gorgeous folds. I want to peel each little layer away with my tongue, bit by precious bit, until I’ve reached her delicious centre.
I do just that and slip in and out of each fold, my tongue tracing the curves of her incredible smelling pussy. Her clit is pebbled in its little hood, so I flick it. She moans that sweet sound.
I make my way back under her and slide my tongue inside. Of course my honeybee would taste like honey. What else did I expect?
I lap up as much of her as I can, and she moans again. You fucking sexy bitch.
I need to see what she looks like right now; I can’t stop looking at her. I love watching her. It’s my newest bad habit, and fast becoming my favourite obsession.
Her head is back, and one hand is stretched up, gripping her hair as she rubs her other fingers past her nipples. Just like she did when I watched her masturbate. But this time she’s in front of me.
I have been kissed on the dick by a fairy; all my wishes have come true. I can tell that she’s about to come.
I slide two of my fingers into her warm pot of honey and feel her catch hold of them. You’re fucking kidding me?
Jesus, she can orgasm. There’s something to be said about chicks who wank—they know what makes them feel good, real quick.
My taut tongue continues to flick her hardened clit, and I drive my fingers in and out of her until I feel her pussy respond with a quiver of pulsing waves.
She pants loudly. The noises she makes cause a spark to run up my spine every time. I can feel her slowing, but she’s not getting away with it that easily. I lean and lift her up, and within a matter of seconds my cock is edging into her.
Condom … Fuck … Pussy … Condom.
Fuck it!
She feels too good to move; it’s almost impossible for me to pull out right now. I watch for her reaction, just to make sure she wants this too. Her eyes watch me. I lightly frown, still waiting for her permission. I pause when my head is inside her and wait. Her eyes drop momentarily, but the pulsing I can feel inside her body must be too much for her, and she moans again.
She whimpers, “Fuck me, Pacer.”
“You’re not going to sit down for a week, honeybee.”
I bite on her earlobe as I slam myself into her. She forces herself down onto me, harder than the first time I fucked her. And I’d thought she was a rough little bitch then. This is better still.
Curling my arms under hers, I hold onto the top of her shoulders and bring her down onto my cock again and again.
I can smell sex in the particles of the steamy shower. I love watching her bouncing tits as she rides me. When she screams in pleasure, it sounds like the trill of a bird. I fucking love it.
I don’t stop driving into her. I can feel the build-up in the bottom of my balls, but I don’t want her to stop yet.
Before I explode inside her, I move her from the wall and carry her out of the shower, my cock still buried inside her. Walking with my little goddess impaled on me, I head straight for the bed.
I hope she expects to be fucked all night now. I don’t give a fuck about our lunch or our dinner; she has opened the gate, and I don’t intend on leaving this any time soon.
I carry her with ease; she’s so light. She’s long, but light; like a little sparrow. Her lips slip all over mine and she keeps grinding into me as I walk.
The soft mattress hits against my forearms as we land on the bed. I drive into her twice and watch her squirming in raptures of pleasure beneath me.
She grins. “Can you put your gloves back on?”
I study her for a moment, and shake my head with curiosity.
What have I found here?
***
Lighting a cigarette, I grab the thick fur rugs that drape across the back of the couch and spread them out across the polished concrete floor in front of the fireplace.
I’m naked.
Chelsea’s naked.
It’s a wonderful thing.
I’m glad I got the fireplace installed now. When I was building this place, the architect wouldn’t take no for an answer. I’d thought it was a waste of time and money. Now, as I watch Chelsea spread her gorgeous body out in front of it, I’m thinking I should give the guy a pallet of wine as a thank you.
Pressing the button on the wall, the fire the wood that’s been stacked and waiting in place instantly ignites. I haven’t been up here for a few months, but my staff still comes and cleans once a week for me. They also stack my wood and keep the fridge stocked, so all I have to do is just open the door and relax. You never know when the opportunity strikes to come out here … and being here with Chelsea right now is my pay-off for that theory.
As I draw back on my cigarette, I crack the window open just enough to let the smoke out that’s collected within the big open space. I lean back against the waist-height windowsill, and just watch her while I enjoy my cigarette. Her curves are sensational. They roll in all the right places. God, I can’t get enough of your body, honeybee.
She rolls over and watches me. Her smile is slight, just enough to tell me she likes what she sees. Having a cigarette with a view of a gorgeous woman after four solid hours of fucking is indescribably good. As I inhale, I think about all the other positions I could have her in. I look down at my little man. The life has practically been sucked from him. I chuckle.
“I think you broke him,” I tease.
She gasps dramatically. “He better not be broken! I can’t live with myself if that’s the case. Bring him here and I’ll try to revive him.”
She signals me to come to her with her index finger. Casually strolling toward her, I take the final drag of my cigarette and flick the butt into the flaming fire. Exhaling the contents of my lungs, I sink down and lie next to my honeybee.
I slide my hand down the length of her long leg and raise it up to see her feet. Ten toes.
She giggles. “What are you looking at?”
I’m not telling her how perfect I think she is.
“You know, I could keep fucking you all night, but at some point we are going to have to eat.” I tuck her soft blonde hair behind her ear as I speak.
The tattoo on the back of my hand—the one that usually reminds me of how many lives my hands have taken—now shows me just how much they want to care for someone.
Her doe eyes softly gaze at me. “Do you mean to say the world is still revolving out there?”
She makes me laugh. She’s right; nothing else matters in the world right now, except for my honeybee and me. I smooth her hair back, and run my palm across her cheek. She nuzzles into my hand. Her skin. Soft and edible.
“I can call the restaurant and get them to deliver?”