Page 155 of Overcast

“Absolutely, not, you stupid piece—” She stops when I lower myself to one knee and grip the waistband of her jeans.

Yanking them down, along with her panties, she doesn’t step out of them, but I don’t need her to.

Instead, I lift each foot to glide the denim material off. Then wrapping my arms in between her legs, I haul her up in the air, getting the back of her knees to sit on my shoulders.

She lets out a soft squeal as my hands splay over her spine, keeping her steady and me being the only thing that keeps her from falling.

Slamming her back into the nearest part of my wall without a picture or some stupid shit that Reagan put up, I brace her up against it.

“Tell me no, sweetheart. You got one chance before I feast on this pussy as my breakfast because I’m fucking starving and I need a high.”

“Fuck you.”

I take that as a yes, licking one slow trail up from her core right to her clit. Her fingers find my hair, yanking on it to show me how pissed off she is, but—let’s be fucking real here—also turned on.

This woman is my weakness.

She tastes like rapture, hell, and everything I could’ve ever asked for.

I can’t get enough, I don’t want to get to the point where it is. No matter what I tell myself is the right thing to do, just one glance at this beauty, and I’m a goner. I’m completely at her mercy, and I will gladly serve her all day and every day.

If I was a different man.

“Emric,” she breathes, arching herself off the wall for me to get closer.

I bite down on her clit, enough to make my next point. “It’s Marty, say it.”

“Marty, Marty.” I suck on her sensitive nub then tease her opening with my tongue. “God, Marty.”

“Which one, baby? You can’t have us both.”

“You,” she professes. “I want you.” Those three words send my animalistic urges on hyperspeed.

I feast on this woman like she’s the last thing my tastebuds will ever get to appetize on.

She drives me insane, both in fury and lust, two dangerous combinations when I’m having a hard enough time wrangling in my emotions for this—us. All of it is new and...

I’ve never experienced anything like this.

Being horny and wanting to screw a woman was a basic need however, I feel as though if I don’t have Stormi within my grasps, I’ll go insane to where no amount of killing, butchering or whatever level of fucked I want to go is going to curb it.

“Right there,” Stormi urges as I circle her clit with only the tip of my tongue. “Yes.”

“Feels like you like bloody ‘ole me, sweetheart.” I reach up to touch her lips for some sort of relief for myself, but she bites down on my finger to deny that she does.

And she can lie to herself, maybe that’s her defense mechanism. It only goes to show that I’m not the only one fighting this thing.

We can’t lie that we’re highly attracted to each other, that something in the middle fuses us into whatever mesh of fucked this is.

Nonetheless, one of us is going to get hurt because the deeper we go, the more it’ll burn.

Stormi lets out a pained moan, her breathing loud and uncontrolled. If it’s one thing she can remember me by, it’s this.

Driving her crazy with fervor and greed. We both take what we want—each other—and recklessly say fuck the consequences.

“Put me down,” she commands, still yanking on the roots of my hair.

I smile, my nose deep in her wetness as I suck, swallow and lick her pussy. “You sure?”

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