Page 10 of Short on Rent

I don’t mind. In fact, I encourage it by walking around the apartment in a T-shirt sans panties, pretending I’m the world’s clumsiest person so I can bend over and give him a view of my bare ass whenever I drop something. He’ll pace like a wild animal until Noah is out, then savagely force me over the edge of the couch, counter, or bed before driving into me.

Blake forces a second finger inside my ass, and I whimper, barely getting the words out when I ask, “When did you get home? Was your meeting canceled?”

He pulls back as he roughly fucks my ass, adding a third finger, his lips streaked with my blood. He licks it off with a growl, closing his eyes and dropping his head back like he’s savoring the taste.

“Yes, I canceled it the moment I saw you pull your tampon out, teasing me with your juicy pussy. Fucking raced home so I could clean you up with my tongue,” he says with a grin.

I knew it. Knew he’d be watching me like a hawk as soon as I told him I started my period. Why he’s so obsessed with it since I know he’s hell-bent on getting me pregnant again, I have no idea. But I won’t complain, not when he drops his face back in my pussy to eat me like a desert, quickening his pace with my ass and bringing me to a mind-blowing orgasm within a few short minutes.

As soon as it passes, Blake yanks his fingers out and cleans me up from one hole to the other with his tongue, just like he promised to do. He pulls me up, spins us so he can sit on the bench, and then yanks me down onto his lap to fill my pussy with his cock in one smooth move.

“Fuck, you make me so hot and thirsty, sweet mama,” he says before latching onto my right breast, increasing the suction to encourage my milk to let down and draining it while he helps me bounce on his dick. When he brings me to a second orgasm, he bangs his head back against the wall and digs his fingertips into my hips to hold me steady a few inches above his lap so he can pump up into me hard and fast until he cums with a guttural moan.

We’re both breathing hard when Blake wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me down for a kiss. I make a face and twist to give him my cheek. He scowls. “You don’t want to kiss your man after bringing you two—two!—orgasms?”

“I love you, you dirty man, but no. No kisses until you brush your teeth.” I pat his shoulder and gingerly lift myself off his cock to stand on shaky legs so I can finish my shower since he’s made a mess of my lower half.

He doesn’t let me get far, sliding his hands up to circle my waist, which still hasn’t bounced back from my pregnancy. “$50.”

“What?”

“$50 for a kiss.”

I might not enjoy kissing him after he kisses my ass, but I do enjoy this particular game, even though I no longer need the money. What’s his is mine now that we’re married. I step between his knees and press my chest against his, hovering an inch away from his lips. “$100.”

Blake smirks. “Deal.”

I give him what he wants, then squirm when I feel his cum drip down my thighs. One more peck on the lips, and I attempt to step back. Blake slides his hands to my lower back as he scoots to the very edge of the bench and straightens. He smashes my lower belly against him, harder and harder, until the pressure becomes too much, making me squirm for a whole new reason.

I brace my hands on his muscular shoulders and push against his hold. “Blake…I need to—”

“I know what you need, sweet girl. $200.”

“No. That’s where I draw the line.”

“Please, baby. I know what you need, and you know what I want,” he croons, then slips one hand between us to flatten his palm over my lower abdomen, increasing the pressure.

I cringe and cross my legs at my ankles, clamping my thighs together. I’ve accepted many things about Blake and his kinks, but what he wants isn’t one of them. I shake my head and try to twist out of his hold.

“$300.”

“No, let me go.”

“$550. Please, baby. Be a good girl and give me what I want.” When I roll and bite my lips, he says, “$700. Final offer.” I raise a brow, and he groans. “Ok, $1000. I want to find out if it’s as sweet as the rest of you. Just one tiny little taste, please.”

When I can’t ignore the pressure in my core any longer, and he looks at me with those intense green eyes, baring himself and how much he wants this, I smile. “$2000.”

“Fuck yes!” He nudges my feet apart and maneuvers me backward so he can slide down to lie on the shower floor between them. He taps my calves and commands, “Squat on my face.”

My belly flutters at how giddy he is as I lower myself over him. Gripping my ass, he readjusts my position, then tells me to brace my hands on the bench. He smiles wide and licks his lips, looking like a kid in a candy shop, darting his eyes from my face to my pussy and back again.

After a few minutes, when my legs start to shake with the strain of holding my position and nothing happens, he asks, “Do you need a little help?”

I huff and nod. Flames ignite in Blake’s gaze, making my overly sensitive clit pulse with anticipation. The angle is awkward, but his arms are long enough that he can press one hand against my back and one against my lower belly. He squeezes me until I feel the first trickle, and the building pressure finally releases.

Blake moans and turns his head from side to side, reveling in our first golden shower. Surprise flickers through my thoughts as I bare down and rock my hips. Am I…am I into this? Maybe it’s not the actual act, but the dominance and power I hold over my stalker in these moments. I’m in control of his pleasure when he’s usually in control of mine.

My husband gasps when I slip my fingers through his hair and grip the thick, wet strands when I plop down on his open mouth after the stream slows to a trickle again. “Eat my pussy, sweet boy, and make me cum.”

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