Page 134 of Roughing It

“Please, Bear. I need you.” The power she has over me should be disturbing. There’s still so much we don’t know about each other, but there’ll never be another for me.

“Open your legs, Spitfire. I promise I’ll give you what you want. Let me take care of you.”

One finger turns to two, stroking the heat between her legs, stroking the craving within me. More. I need more. To watch her come undone with my fingers and my mouth. To relish her flavor on my tongue. To savor her delicate scent. To feel her—the throb and quiver of her cunt around my fingers. The coat of juicy slick on her thighs as she grows wetter and wetter. With a groan from me and a choked sob of my name from her, two fingers become three.

My hunger: ravenous. My thirst: unsated. “I’d bathe in this pussyforever if you let me. You gonna make a mess, baby? Give me a shower?”

“Hudson, wh-when you say things like that. Oh, fuck me. Pl-please keep going.”

“Moan for me, Blakely. Give me those noises.”

She falls, and I feast while fighting to keep from coming against the blanket. Her cries curl in my ears, but I continue caressing her insides, lapping at her pink pussy, only stopping when she whimpersno more. I’m aching to sink my cock into her, for her to come again, to gorge myself on her ecstasy, but she swirls her finger in the air. With a hungry growl, I flip us, guiding her spread legs over my hips.

She’s a queen on her throne, staring down at me. Everything about Blakely calls to me. Like a dying man to water, I’m in her thrall.

“Fuck. You are a thing of wonder. I need to be in you. Now.”

My greed for her overtakes me, and in one fluid snap of my hips, I’m seated inside her. Every inch of me buried.

“God, Hudson, you feel so good.” Her whimper has me swelling inside her.

“You were made for me, Blakely. This hungry pussy is where I belong. I have to stuff my dirty girl. Isn’t that right? Your greedy cunt needs my cock.”

“Y-yes!”

“Tell me. Say you need my cock.”

“I need it!”

I slam her down as I thrust upward. “I said, say you need my cock. Word for word, Blakely. Say your greedy cunt needs my cock.” Fuck, I have to hear her say it.

“My greedy c-cunt needs your cock. Give it to me, Bear!”

Fucking hell.She tightens around my cock, her hips rocking frantically. Her walls tighten around me, pulling me somehow even deeper.

I brush my thumbs over her nipples before my hands wander lower, going to her hips and guiding our connection. My eyes fasten on where our bodies join, watching Blakely ride me. I need to cement this moment in my mind.

Goddamn, I love the way her skin flushes, the way her wild, tousled hair falls, framing her gorgeous face. I close my eyes, focusing all my other senses on her. The indescribable pressure of her wet cunt gripping my cock. The refrain of her breathy moans. The smell of sweat, of sex, raw and unbridled. When I open my eyes, it’s to Blakely staring at me, passion, desire, and something deeper written in her gaze.

Overcome with the desire to touch more of her, I sit up, capturing her earlobe between my teeth before burying my head into her neck—my breathing ragged. Fingers claw my back and shoulders, and I’ll wear those marks with pride. I snake my hand between our bodies, my fingers dropping to her clit, knowing my touch will bring her to the edge.

I starve without her pleasure. Only her pussy clenching around my cock, the heated rush of her release spilling onto my thighs, the wanton cry of my name from her lips can sate me. It’s a banquet—a bounty.

But then her tears spill onto my shoulders, and the drive to comfort her takes over.

“Fuck, Blakely, are you okay?” My hands go to her hips, guiding her to stop and easing my frantic thrusts.

“Yes, don’t stop.”

I hate myself, but I don’t argue with her.Fuck.I’m so damn close. She squeezes her pussy muscles and moves her body in tandem with my faltering rhythm, even as tears land on me in salty splats. All it takes is one more powerful clench around my cock, and I spill myself inside her.

“What happened?” I ask. Concern she’s hurt has mesearching her over. When I don’t see any physical signs besides the tears, I wipe them away.

“I-I’m embarrassed.” She tries to turn away, but I tighten my grip on her chin and tilt her head so her eyes fix on mine.

“What do you mean? After all we’ve been through and learned about each other? We’ve seen each other in ways neither of us expected.” My voice drops. “I’ve touched every inch of you, licked every inch of you. Seen you vom?—”

She gives me a death glare, and I smirk. “Why are you embarrassed?”

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