Page 75 of Tips and Trysts

But for the first time, Cora asked me for a compliment. She asked me to praise her. By now, I know Cora Flores well enough to understand how difficult it was for her to make this request.

So I don’t hesitate. I can’t afford to. Because when Cora needs something only I can give her, it’s my responsibility to make sure she gets it.

“That’s my good little slut. That’s my girl,” I say, positioning my cock head. Her fourchette piercing grazes my dick as I push in, entering her—entering Cora—for the first time. “Let me make it up to you.”

Twenty-Five

CORA

The sensation of Everett’scock sliding into my pussy is intense and surreal all at once.

His bruising grip tightens on my spread thighs, and he pushes even deeper. I cry out against the stretch. He’s big—and my natural inclination is to clench around him. From the guttural moan he expels, I know he feels it.

His next thrust is measured but deliberate, like he’s giving me a moment to adjust. The reprieve is much needed. Everett’s is the first cock I’ve taken in months, and the friction is startling but satisfying. I wiggle my hips, urging him to keep going. His lips touch mine right before he thrusts more of his length into me.

A moan swells from deep in my center. The release is intrinsic, nearly beyond my control—and entirely necessary. I missed this. I’veachedfor this.

I’ve ached for him.

The world awakens around me, enveloping me in a heightened rush of sensation. I’m undeniably aware of my surroundings:The shadowy cover of the trees. The curtain of rain and vapor. The cloying night air. The unforgiving scratch of the tree against my back.

And slowly, my senses focus on him: firm muscles and coarse stubble and a fat cock and the familiar sound of his breaths tickling my ear. Sensory overload peeks over the horizon line, but for now, my world is defined by an unprecedented melding with another person. Everett is everywhere—and he has become everything.

He continues his glorious stretch, pushing the rest of his cock into me until his groin reaches my pussy. “There it is,” he grits, stilling his motions. “There’s nothing tighter.”

Another moan slips past my lips. “You feel amazing,” I reply, slanting my head back against the tree, willing myself to adjust. There’s just so much of him—and I want him to love this. I want him to cherish this. I want him to remember every detail of this moment. I want him to live to fuck me and only me. I want him feral for me. I want him to become unnerved at the mere thought of being anywhere but nestled in my willing body—and I’m ready to become equally as obsessed with him.

Everett grins, oblivious to the monumental desire I’m now rationalizing into fate. Future. He’s significantly taller than me, stronger too, and the indentations of his muscles protrude elegantly under his wet shirt. I glide my hands up the curve of his neck, marveling at what I’m seeing—feeling. His body is sturdier than I’ve ever realized, like the marble he personifies, but graceful at the same time.

He was made for this too.

Everett rolls his hips back before thrusting again. Again. And again. He works up the pressure, testing me—pounding into me now. My pussy clenches around him, sensitive but satisfied. “Good?”

“So good,” I confirm, shutting my eyes. Rain scatters over my eyelids and runs down my cheeks, relentless. “So fucking good.”

His mouth drifts to my neck where his lips press against my pulse point as he carries out another thrust—a full retreat of his hips before he surges back inside me. I gasp—and my hands dig into his skin.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to be inside you.” He pulls back. “To fuck you.” He surges upwards, more vigorous this time. “To work those needy sounds out of your throat.”

“Should have taken me sooner—shit,” I reply, barely able to string the words together when he swivels his hips.

My response makes him thrust harder—and even harder on the re-thrust.

Now, his motions are nothing short of brutal, and I want more. Need more. I drive my fingers into his hair and shove his face low. His perfect teeth graze my flesh, and I’d let him mark me anytime he wants—but right now, I want his mouth on my breasts.

“Suck them,” I urge when his cock plunges into me at the right angle. “Suck my tits. I need it.”

“Such a slut for nipple play,” he counters before he runs his tongue along the side of my breast, licking it crudely before darting down and nipping the underside. “You’d let any cock into your tight little body if that was the going rate for a mouth on these perfect, pierced tits.”

The clash of sweet and perverse, of praise and degradation, morphs into tangled desperation. I tug on Everett’s wet hair and finally get what I want—his mouth on one of my pearled nipples.

His lips wrap around it, indulging in ruthless suction before he bites my barbell. The feeling is pure decadence. My body is nearly limp under his ministrations, and there’s no denying it: Everett is astounding on a tit. He switches to the other one, andhis tongue extends to lick the tip before taking my entire areola between his lips.

I whimper. I fuckingwhimper. His mouth is ungodly, downright sinful, and I can’t stop myself from blurting out, “You can’t be serious—yes, right there. You’ve beenthis goodat sucking tits the entire time I’ve known you?”

The bastard seems to ignore my question at first, until I realize his response is a tacit, resounding YES when he buries his face between my breasts and licks the plane of my collarbone on his way back to my mouth. He takes my lips in a kiss that starts nasty and gets more intense by the second.

His thrusts are just as animalistic.

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