Page 156 of Overcast

“Yes, now.” I move, dropping her body to the ground but catching her before she hits the floor. She doesn’t wrap her legs around me, and I let her slide down the length of me, feeling my hard cock graze over her stomach.

She doesn’t acknowledge my peering down at her but focuses on the waistband of my sweats, sliding them down at record speed.

“What are you doing?” She pulls the material down my hips with my boxers and my cock bucks free. “You better watch it, baby, I’m not in a good mood and—”

“Shut up,” she snaps, twirling to give me her back and her sweet, plump little ass. Reaching behind her, she grips my dick and guides me closer, expecting me to navigate the rest of the way.

I mean, she isn’t wrong.

I’m not that strong to resist her and the clear offering of her body to get lost in.

Especially since within seconds, I’m already inside her, rocking back and forth with my chest pressing into her back.

Gripping the back of her head, I lace my fingers in her hair and turn her face to the side so that her cheek is pressed up against the treated wood. That and I won’t miss the opportunity to see her face when I fuck her into hell with me then back to heaven.

“You’re making me crazy,” I growl into the side of her face, slowing down my pace so that I can fixate on how she feels around me. “And I’m pissed, so how do you think this is going to go?”

“Hopefully, with us both coming,” she deadpans.

A wicked smile plasters onto my face. “I can make that happen.”

My idea was to go slow and drive her deranged with lust, except my pent up aggression wanted to be released.

It demanded to own, pound, and guide us both into a delirious state of pleasure and calm.

I couldn’t gradually slow down if I tried.

Stormi started pleading and begging me to give her what she wanted—which was me. I enjoyed her sandwiched between me and the wall too much, giving me the perfect circumstance, to pull her off and get to her neck.

Nestling my face and showing attention to one of her favorite spots, I whisper, “My sins are rubbing all over you, sweetheart. And deep down—” I lick up the shell of her ear. “—I think you enjoy being overcasted by what lies deep inside me.”

“You talk too much,” she growls, propping her palms on the wall to steady herself against my thrusts.

“I’ll say this then—” I tighten the arm wrapped around her middle. “—I’d do anything for you. I killed those men so that no one touched, saw, or even knew you existed here. I did it for my sister and nephew and that dumb as hell husband of hers. But I’d massacre anyone who laid a finger on you. You don’t have to accept it, sweetheart, but now you know it.”

She arches her back, letting me hit her from another angle but doesn’t say a word.

It could be mixed emotions, my words settling in, but it leaves me with an open-ended answer to a question I already know the outcome to.

“Marty,” she finally whispers after a minute of our skin slapping, moans, growls, and my balls tingling.

“Mhm?” My face is still burrowed into the crook of her shoulder, smelling her skin and listening to her breathing because it feels good.

She cranes her neck, making me pull away and lock with her blues. Her lips fast track into mine, speaking for themselves, hidden and muted words that maybe she’s too scared to say.

I’m shaken by the way I feel towards her, I’d be a fucking idiot if I denied that. I examine and piece together shit for a living, what kind of dummy would I be if I didn’t acknowledge the complicated fact that I love Stormi.

I love my sister and Huck. I tolerate Wade and my crew at B723.

But am I in love with her?

What does that even mean? When does the “in” part happen? I relish being inside her, but I don’t have an infatuation with women I’ve screwed in the past. I never wanted to own and make them mine. At no time did I ever want to smash someone’s face in for looking at them like I want to do with Mills when he gets all puppy-eyed and shit.

Is that possessiveness? Does that count?

Stormi’s lips break from mine, and she lets out a cry as she crashes down, body becoming limp and dependent against me.

Holding her while plunging deeper and faster, Stormi leans her head back against my shoulder, exposing her neck.

---