Page 33 of Plum

“What was that for?”

He’s grinning down at me, pleased as punch.

“I like the way you squeal. You sound like someone stepped on a squeaky toy.”

“Are you makin’ fun of me?”

“I would never make fun of the way you squeal like a very small piglet at the state fair.”

“I’ll make you squeal like a piglet.” I dig my fingers into his ribs—I have to do a half-crunch to do it—but his face don’t crack.

“I’m not ticklish. I have no human weaknesses.” And he puts his hands on his hips like Superman and lifts his chin. He’s ridiculous. He’s swole as hell, model perfect, naked except for a condom and completely goofy.

I draw my legs back and rest the bottoms of my feet on his hard chest.

He raises an eyebrow.

I slide one foot up until it hits his face and then I keep going, smooshing his face to the side.

“Revenge?” he mumbles.

“Cry uncle.”

“Cry uncle.” He says it like he’s remembering something. “You mean surrender.”

“Yeah. Surrender.”

And just like that, the mood changes again. He bends over me, stroking up my arms until he meets my hands, twining his fingers in mine, resting them on the pillow above my head.

“I surrender.” He takes my mouth again, and then dips down to kiss my neck, my shoulder, his hands leaving mine to heft a breast, stroke my ribs, cup my ass and then lift my thigh to bare my pussy. His hot tongue swipes across my nipple the instant he begins to wedge his huge cock inside me.

This is happening. I adjust my hips, try to open up. He’s panting. Sweating.

He suckles my tit, and there’s a draw between his mouth and my clit, a pulsing that has me squirming not to accommodate him, but to draw him deeper. I want more.

I raise my hips, and he groans.

“Please, baby. Let me do this my way. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s only an inch or two inside me, and it’s not enough. I whine. Sneak my hand between us to find my clit. He slips deeper. A few more inches. He’s not all the way in yet, but I’m stretched to the limit. I run my fingers where he’s splitting me apart, and I’m taut. Burning. I want to see.

I shove his shoulder, and he raises himself on his arms, no fuss. I miss his hot mouth on my nipple, but the cold air feels good, too. I do a crunch and stare down. He follows my gaze.

“You’re going to take all of me, baby, aren’t you?” It’s bossy, commanding, but I don’t miss the note of desperation. He needs this.

“Yes. Yes.” He grabs my hips and thrusts in to the hilt. I shriek. He’s filling me, stretching me, covering me totally, and he’s so big, and then he’s moving, stroking, and he’s kissing me again, everywhere, lapping at my nipples, running his hands over every inch of me.

I sob, a low, continuous moan. It feels so good. He’s hitting a spot that makes me jerk and buck, seeking more.

“Harder.” Now I’m bossy, but he does what I say, wrapping his strong arms around me, holding me to him as he jackhammers me into the mattress. I can’t move. I can’t reach my clit, but I don’t have to. His pelvic bone is hitting me just right, and I come so quick I hardly knew it was coming.

My pussy clenches on his cock, and I shake, hot and cold all at once, and it takes me ten times as long as the orgasm to generate a useful thought.

He’s still going.

He’s got his eyes closed, and he’s fucking me, so intent and serious. He’s slowed down, and he’s braced himself up on his arms again. He’s sweating, and I realize, so am I. We’re slip-sliding together, and every so often he kisses my lips or sucks my throbbing nipples.

Inside my belly, there’s a coiling, a bearing down. It feels so good. I want more. I want to tell him that but my mouth is dry and my brain won’t make words.

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