Page 12 of A Sinner's Virtue
I raise an eyebrow at him. “You are an asshole.”
“I deserve that.” He smiles. “You’re right. I’m usually an asshole with brief moments of good behaviour between.”
I can’t help but smile back at him. What is it about this guy that makes me feel so much more at ease? I don’t think I’ve ever recovered from a flashback so quickly before. They can last for ages and I’m left a mess afterwards. But, somehow, Marcel has me smiling.
Something comes over me at that realisation, and I leap up and throw myself at him. Straddling his lap before my lips connect with his. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him tight to me. There’s this hunger inside me I’m not sure I’ve ever felt, and it’s for him.
Marcel’s hands roam up and down my back. Grabbing hold of my ass, he pulls my core against the hardness of his cock. I moan into his mouth. It’s not enough. I need more. My hands push down on his shoulders, until his back is flat on the marble floor. Shifting my position on top of him, I undo his belt, then his pants. Then my hand reaches inside and frees his cock. It springs up, hard and leaking precum.
I want to taste it. Leaning forward, I run my tongue along the tip.
“Fuck, Zoe,” Marcel groans, pulling my head back to look me in the eye. “Are you sure about this?”
“Am I sure I want you to fuck me all night and give me as many orgasms as you think you’re capable of giving me? You should probably try to set a new world record or something, because not only do I want this, Marcel, I need it,” I tell him.
“Well then, call the Guinness people, babe, because we’re about to break records.” He smirks.
“I like your confidence.” I grin until a thought comes to mind. “Condom? We need one.” Surely, he’s one of those guys who carries those things around with him wherever he goes.
He proves that I’m right when he shifts his weight, reaches into his back pocket, and fishes out his wallet. I grab it from his hands, digging through all the cards and cash until I find the foil packet.
“We’re probably going to need more than one,” I tell him before ripping the packet open. “But it’s a start.” Then I roll the latex down his length.
Marcel watches me as I stand and slide my panties along my legs. Before I settle back on top of him, my pussy against his cock. His head tips backwards and his eyes focus on the ceiling as he inhales deeply, his fingers digging into my hips. He’s trying to control himself. Which is the last thing I want. I need him to lose control. I need a repeat of that night at the hotel. I don’t need him treating me like I might break after what he witnessed.
I want him to need this as much as I do.
When his head shifts in my direction again, and we make eye contact, I can see it. The lust, the desire. “You’re going to need an ice pack tomorrow,” he grunts.
“Why?” I ask as I grind against his cock.
“Because I’m going to fuck you so hard your vagina’s going to bruise. And when it twinges every time you take a step, you’ll remember that you’re the one who asked for this. You’ll remember that I’m the one who made you feel so fucking good.”
Before I can respond, Marcel is sitting up. He somehow manages to get to his feet, taking me with him. My legs wrap around his waist as he starts walking. A few seconds later, he is lowering me onto the sofa and lining up his cock with my entrance. Marcel lifts one of my legs, kissing my ankle before resting it on his shoulder. His body leans over mine, bending me like a damn pretzel as he pushes into me.
He stills when his eyes connect with mine. “Remember: you can ask me to stop at any point and I will.”
“Thank you.” My voice is hoarse, the emotions he’s bringing to the surface foreign, and I’m not a hundred percent sure I want to feel them right now. Which is why I’m grateful when he starts moving.
Marcel pumps in and out of me, slowly at first. And then his fingertips dig into my hips, holding me in place as he picks up speed. His cock slamming into me relentlessly, hitting some spot deep inside that has me seeing the damn stars. I’m reduced to a screaming, wet mess as he fucks me. Right now, the entire world could go up in flames and I wouldn’t stop him. Stop this.
Like I said, I need this. I’m prepared to burn if it means reaching that earth-shattering orgasm I can feel building within me.
“Fuck, you feel good. The way your cunt is choking my cock right now… Fuck, Zoe. I could get lost in your pussy and never look for a way out,” Marcel grunts through his thrusts.
“Shit! Oh, fuck!” I bite down on my bottom lip.
“That’s it. Light up for me, babe. Come all over my cock.” He covers my mouth with his, swallowing my screams.
And like he flipped a switch, my entire body is alight with pleasure as my orgasm crashes over me. Every nerve ending tingling. I lose track of everything but that pleasure. How good it feels. It’s addictive. I haven’t had it a lot and I already know I don’t want to go another lifetime without it.
I open my eyes, as I’m coming down from my high, to find Marcel staring down at me. When did he stop kissing me?
“So fucking pretty,” he says. His thrusts have slowed, his movements almost reverent. “I love watching you come.”
I’m sure if my cheeks weren’t red before, they would be now. His attention is a lot to digest. How can a stranger make you feel like you’re the most important thing in the world with just a look? Or am I that desperate for love that I’m making shit up in my head?
Who knows? What I do know, is how much I like the way Marcel feels buried inside me. That’s what I need to focus on. Nothing else matters right now.
