Page 104 of Smut

Where she goes, I follow.

I strip quickly, feeling fire running through my veins, a sense of urgency unlike any before, and then I’m climbing on the bed after her, prowling like she’s the prey and I’m the hunter, or maybe it’s the other way around because I’m in her pull, her power, and there isn’t anything I can do about it.

She lies beneath me, her hair loose now and spilling around her like a red halo, looking so flawless and pure and soft against the thick flannel. My cock juts out between us, bobbing as I move above her body, and the need to drive myself so deep inside her is more dominant than ever.

It’s the need to claim.

To make her mine.

That primal, animalistic instinct to take and hold and possess. As alpha as it sounds, it’s real and raw and it’s an ache in my chest, clawing its way out of me.

It has been for a long time.

I lower my body onto hers, relishing the feel of her skin against mine, the heat we’re already creating. Her legs open wider, parting for me as she raises her hips, but I’m not ready for her now, not yet.

I kiss her, electric, fast, and she slows me down, turning the kiss into something like satin, soft, drawn-out, and deep. Heat slides through my veins, my pulse quickening with lust.

“Turn over,” I tell her, and she does. My words come out thick as I face this desperate, trembling kind of hunger.

With the smooth mounds of her arse facing me, I move down the bed and place my tongue on her cheek, making long, wide licks up and then down, back and forth, while I’m squeezing the other cheek. I switch places, paying attention to her signs, how much she wants, if she wants it.

Her hips are rising into me, her arse pressing into my mouth.

She wants more.

Even with my cock almost painfully rigid, everything swimming with this heady infatuation, I slide my finger down her arse cheek, parting them gently.

“Do you like that?” I whisper. Everything is wild and tense.

She makes a sound, tight and breathless, that sounds like “yes.”

I draw the finger back up, and she stills for a second before relaxing.

It’s the “no, I shouldn’t like this” and then the “but I do.”

I lower my head and gently blow on her.

She stiffens again, then presses herself back.

More.

I slide my tongue in slowly, my heart intent on climbing out of my chest.

Amanda sucks in her breath sharply; the exhale is a low groan I feel rumble through me.

I slide my hand around, finding her clit and lightly petting it until she’s moaning again, her hips circling for more.

Her legs spread wider, giving me greater access in all ways and I’m experiencing her in a way no one has before. If this is akin to claiming something, then I’m planting my flag. But more than that, she’s opening up to me, putting her pleasure in my hands, and offering herself. She’s vulnerable, something so rare for her, and I want to drown in the feeling.

I can feel her close to coming. She’s panting, her body growing warmer, on the verge.

“Oh my god, Blake,” she says hoarsely, and I nearly lose my fucking mind. “Keep going.”

I do. My tongue plunges in, so tight, and my fingers stroke and circle. She’s panting, breathless, needy.

She’s incredible like this, about to throw herself over the edge.

And then she goes. It happens quickly, and I feel her unravel under my tongue, my lips, my fingers. She tenses for a split second and the world seems to still, tipping on its axis, and then she’s shattering, arching her back, crying out my name.

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