Page 82 of Craving Chaos

He takes me to the bedroom and lays me down, my head nearly hanging off the foot of the bed. When he stands over me and strokes his throbbing cock, I realize his intent and lick my lips.

“Fuck, do it again,” he growls.

I slowly slide my tongue along my bottom lip. A shiver of anticipation wracks his body before he brings the head of his shaft to my lips. I open and flatten my tongue, welcoming his thick warmth into my mouth. I angle my head back further so I can take more of him in. When I moan, his core flexes as he presses himself all the way to the back of my throat. He doesn’t stay there long, careful to make sure I have no problem breathing.

For several long minutes, he leisurely fucks my mouth. My hands squeeze and tease my breasts because it feels good but also because I know he likes it, and this is about him. I want him to feel every bit as incredible as he made me feel.

I suck and lick and moan and touch myself until he hisses and pulls away, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged puffs. He immediately joins me on the bed, aligning his body with mine.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but that was even better than I imagined.” He kisses a path along my neck, his cock warm and deliciously hard against my upper thigh.

“Imagine it often, did you?” I tease.

“You have no fucking idea.”

My humor dissipates as carnal hunger takes its place. “I might be more familiar than you’d expect.” I wrap my arms behind his neck and my legs around his middle. “Fuck me, Ren. I need to feel you inside me.”

He angles his hips so that his head is teasing at my entrance. “Didn’t put a condom on.”

“I’m not on birth control, but I just finished my period, so I don’t think it’s an issue.” I know I should be more careful. I’m not ready for kids yet. But that’s not the way it works with Renzo and me. Our love isn’t careful; it’s consuming. And I want to connect with him without anything between us.

Skin to skin.

Heart to heart.

Renzo starts to ease inside me. “Good, I want more than anything in this world to see my cum dripping from your cunt and know that you are unequivocally mine, so long as I live and breathe.” His voice grows more strained as he surges deeper inside me.

I gasp and nod, holding him tighter. “Yes, I’m yours. Only yours.”

That’s his cue. He sinks all the way inside me … then again … and again … and again until he is pistoning his way deep into my soul. Each powerful thrust is so commanding, my body has no choice but to come alive with pleasure.

His body slaps at the perfect angle against my clit while stoking that secret bundle of nerves inside me. I don’t have to chase anything because my orgasm stalks me like a ravenous panther. It’s so intense, I can feel my core swelling and throbbing in preparation.

“Ren … it’s so good.” My dazed words are breathy and tense with anticipation because this feels different from anything I’ve experienced before. “Oh God. Ren, it’s coming.”

“You squeeze me so damn tight. Say my name, baby. Say my name when you come apart.”

His voice is as ragged and strained as mine, and hearing that lights the final spark that detonates a bomb inside me. I start to cry his name, but it morphs into a scream of intense pleasure. My inner muscles spasm with such force I’m vaguely aware of what feels like liquid squirting past those muscles.

“Fuck yes,” Renzo says in a half hiss, half moan before his orgasm overtakes him. His body curves around mine as his core contracts. I cling to him, reveling in my waning pleasure and relishing the sight of him finding his own release.

We hold one another as we recover. And once we’re both breathing evenly again, Renzo rises to his knees and stares raptly at my core as he slides his cock from inside me. It makes me remember the squirting from before. Is that what he’s looking at? Is there a puddle beneath me?

I’m suddenly mortified. My knees try to angle inward.

His hands ease my legs back apart. “Told you I wanted to see my cum dripping out of you, and fuck is it perfect.” He takes his thumb and smears the liquid in a circle around my opening. My inner muscles clench involuntarily, which squeezes out more.

Renzo groans, and it’s the most heady, addictive sound I’ve ever heard. I think he might take pictures and hang them on the walls if he could.

“I thought you were looking at the bed. I think I might have made a mess. I’m sorry. That’s never happened before.”

The most self-satisfied smile I’ve ever seen creeps across his face. “That means I’m doing it right.”

Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel better.

“You don’t look convinced.”

“It’s not that. I’m just worried I might do it again. The mattress—”

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