Page 27 of Something So Strong

Almost instantly, my arousal subsides.

Second confirmation: Guys don’t do it for me, Kai does it for me.

But now I’m horny with a soft dick. And as for right now, Pornhub and I aren’t on speaking terms.

Returning my laptop to the nightstand, I grab my phone and open the picture Mavis sent me. The neckline of her bodysuit is so low cut it even makes her small tits look plump. And fuck, her nipples are hard.

Remembering what they’d felt like as I ran my tongue over them in the first class bathroom, my hand lowers to my cock. Stroking myself, I study the line of her tiny waist as it curves out to her thick thighs.

With real-life memories abounding, I lock my phone and toss it aside.

Imagining she’s at work in the bar, I approach her from behind and kneel. Grabbing the fishnet tights, I rip a gaping hole in them before pushing the bodysuit aside and digging my tongue into her cunt.

Dick fully hard, I pump myself faster.

I’ve had the real thing and nothing will ever compare, but it still doesn’t feel like all the other times I’ve fucked myself to the memories of girls’ past. Grit and determination will get me there, but who wants to feel like they’re floundering when they come?

I know what I want.

There’s no point denying it any longer.

Pushing Mavis aside, I’m back in the empty kitchen—its bland color palette making me feel insignificant. Standing just inside the door as I had this morning, I don’t startle when Kai whispers in my ear. Instead, I sink into it. Our bodies are so close, yet still too far to touch.

His lips graze over my ear lobe before he pulls back.

A breathy sigh escapes me.

Next, his hand is against my back, guiding me and repeating all the same words from earlier.

He calls me dumb and I bite back.

He says I’m feisty and I want to prove it.

I take the knife from the cutlery drawer, but this time I don’t relinquish my grip on the silverware.

He tugs at my hand, and I stare him down—pulling his grip back.

I smirk, silently daring him to fight harder.

He does.

His grip moves to my wrist, and he yanks me forward.

Our chests press together.

Our noses almost touch.

Dialogue is out the window because the mere thought of close contact so innocent has me furiously pumping towards climax.

I focus on his lips. So supple for a man’s, and I can almost feel his breath against mine as his chest rises and falls.

With one hand still around my wrist, he uses the other to grab my ass and heaves my hips towards his. He’s so strong. Dominant.

I dig my fingers into my thigh—gripping as harshly as I want him to.

I can feel his hard-on against my own. Big. Confronting.

Hot.

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