Page 95 of Bullet

I spun her onto her back and ripped her jeans along with her panties down her legs. “I’m going to fuck you hard, kitten.” I stripped off my cut and my shirt and dropped them to the floor.

She scrambled out of her shirt and bra. “Hurry.” Once naked, she rose onto her knees and kissed my chest. “I love this,” she said and licked my piercing.

I chuckled because I couldn’t reach my boots, and my jeans had caught around my ankles. “Fuck it.” I flipped her onto her hands and knees, soaked the head of my cock in her juices, and slid inside her. I closed my eyes as her soft silken heat surrounded me.

Once fully rooted, I stilled as a torrent of sensations raged through me. I’d spent my life avoiding intimacy. I’d fucked for my own pleasure, but never allowing myself to feel emotionally connected.

Until her.

I couldn’t regret my past because it brought me to her.

I was shooting blanks when I lost my virginity. By the time I was fourteen, I was kicking rubber vending machines off the wall at truck stop bathrooms. I’d been wearing condoms ever since. I couldn’t remember what it had felt like to get my dick wet in a woman without one.

I’d never felt like this. Never felt the pull to drown inside her, to feel connected with more than our bodies.

A hot gush of wetness slicked her passage, the tight walls stretched and gloved to my cock. The head bumped her cervix, stimulating my piercing, andsending a sharp shard of pleasure and promise through my dick, into my balls, and down my legs.

“Oh, god, more.” She moaned. “You feel so good inside me. So good.”

Stormy dropped to her elbows, hiked her ass into the air, and rocked back, impaling herself on my shaft. I gripped her hips, held her at the perfect angle, and sank into her, forcing the breath from her with deep, hard thrusts.

“Don’t stop. Never stop.”

Like a machine, I kept going, my hips a piston, pounding my cock in and out of her. Taking her. Riding her. Filling every fucking part of her. I’d become territorial over her, and I was going to wreck her pussy for anyone else. “You’re mine, Stormy.”

“Make me feel it, Bullet. If I’m yours, take me.”

She wanted more, so I gave her every-fucking-thing. I pummeled her cunt. Mercilessly fucking every thought from her head but me. This was me. Raw and exposed—because I fucking needed her like I’d never needed anyone before.

Her mouth opened, and a silent scream ripped from her body as she convulsed around me, strangling my cock in her silken sheath. Juices from her sweet cunt dripped from my balls.

I stiffened, my body on the brink of detonation. “Fuck.” I didn’t want to come, not yet. Every nerve in my body sizzled. Heat coiled in my gut, and my abdomen clenched. Shit. “I’m going to come.” I fisted my dick.

Stormy snapped her gaze over her shoulder. “Don’t pull out. I need to feel you inside me.”

I gripped her ass. Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

She fucking owned me.

I slotted deep, as deep as I could go. Any barriers between us shattered and crashed with her whispered words.

I’d weaponized a legacy of guilt and resentment, barricaded my heart and my head, and kept them at war because I was never going to let another woman prey on my emotions. But Stormy had wrapped herself around me in ways that chains and condemnation never could.

I abandoned any lingering doubts…I’d give her everything. I’d fucking shared my past with her. With pump after ragged pump, I baptized her pussy in cum and promised her my future.

This was us.

Perfectly wrecked.

Fuck leaving. She was mine. And when she asked me to come inside her, she’d made me hers.

Stormy

Bullet pulled up his jeans. “We’re getting married.”

“A beast in bed and a jokester, too.” I laughed, but my heart pounded with the rumble of an approaching storm. Electricity crackled in the air between us. Marriage? Bullet wasn’t middle aged, but he had to be having some sort of crisis. A week ago, he was fucking my best friend while I tried to sleep in a bathtub with a towel for a blanket.

“You think I’m fucking joking?”

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