Page 52 of Broken

“Of course.” He grabs me, helping me flip under the blanket until we’re snuggling together. I move and get comfortable against his body, feeling something poking me in the ass. “Sorry, I can’t control it.” he whispers into my ear, kissing it softly.

I wiggle again, pressing my ass against him. My eyes fall closed as I feel it grow further, wishing it was inside of me, instead of touching me through so much fabric.

“Fuck it.” I rotate in his arms and crash my lips to his, putting my leg up over his hip until he’s on his back. I break the kiss and look down at him.

“I know this doesn’t mean anything.” West rolls his eyes, taking the hem of my shirt as he pulls it over my head.

Is he wrong? Does it mean anything? We strip so fast and I know I’m soaked for him. I adjust myself, reaching between us to guide him into me. The second his tip is right there, I drop down, burying him deep inside me. I moan out, letting my head fall to his chest as I just feel him, stretching me. Filling me completely, as he always has.

He grabs my hips and helps me move as I just feel it. “Fuck, you’re so damn tight.” He says, grunting as our bodies meet, again and again.

There’s a burn deep inside me, begging for release, one that he’s only ever given me. I let out a shaky moan as I lift off him, letting myself cum, splashing all over his hips. Fucking hell. My bottom lip begins to shiver as I sit back down on him. My pussy is throbbing as I feel the orgasm. He holds me up just a little and drives up into me, fucking me like only he can.

West flips us over, holding the backs of my thighs as he drives into me, Jesus Christ, this man fucks like no other.

The building starts again as I try to push my legs together, he pulls out and rubs his finger across my clit rapidly until I'm biting into the pillow that has somehow found its way over my head. I can hear my orgasm, the wet sounds filling the room. “So fucking hot.” He growls, pushing his dick into me when it stops.

My body feels like it's on a completely different plane of existence right now, humming as I just feel it all. He removes the pillow and looks at me, damn him. Those dark eyes, filled with nothing but love.

“Eyes on me Kitty.” He grabs my throat, cutting the blood flow as I try my damnedest to keep my eyes open. I want to squeeze them shit and scream at the top of my lungs as I ride wave after wave of orgasms.

My body tightens again, pushing him out as my knees shake. “Yes Kitty, give it to me.” His hand is quick to work me over, milking me for every fucking thing I have.

When he lets out a vein popping grunt, I watch his face, every inch of him is fucking beautiful as he reaches his own orgasm.

Even after he's finished, he keeps a slow rhythm, “I’m not ready for this to end Kitty. I don't want a cold shoulder the second this is over.” He leans down, nipping at my skin giving me chills as he moves.

“One moment at a time.” I say, running my finger up through his hair. When I bring my hands back down I feel his stubble, “Have you ever thought about growing this out a bit?”

“A beard?” He asks, as we continue to move as one, his dick getting hard again.

“Yes.” I lick my lips as a pleasurable tingle rides up my back.

“I have, as well as growing my hair back out.” He licks and teases my breasts.

“I'd like that.” I say, “I loved your long hair.”

Suddenly he pulls out of me, grabs the back of my knees and flips me over, pulling my ass up to meet him. When he thrusts into me, his fingers dance up my spine until they're laced in my hair. He's forcing my face down as he plunges deeper into me.

Hot fucking damn, this is the best fuck I've had since, well him. Like it was great at the reunion, but fuuuuck. This is where it's at. He pulls me up, arching my back until I feel his lips on my ear, “Such a good fucking girl taking my dick like this.” He pushes me back to the pillow and I'm fucking gone, gripping the sheet and screaming into the pillow as I cum harder than I've ever cum before.

Chapter Twenty Two

Westley

As the ball strikes the pins, I watch them fall, all but one. “Damn Kitty, you're good at this.” I say looking at the scoreboard.

Kitty - 146

West - 67

It's amazing the things that I've learned today, like McKenna hates grapes, who doesn't like a good grape? My daughter apparently.

“I've been coming here since before McKenna was born, it's where I met Bailey.” She says, waiting for her ball. “I didn't bowl back then, her dad did though, so I started coming more often and eventually he offered me a job at the shop, cleaning.” Her ball winds up and drops down the rack.

I watch her line up with the ball and think about what she told me while we were eating. She had been homeless before Bailey, living on the street during the beginning of the pregnancy. She had a small job but it didn't pay enough, and when she told me she showered at a truck stop off the highway I almost fucking broke.

While I was living in a dorm room at Yale ignoring her, she was out here, struggling to find somewhere to sleep at night.

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