Page 53 of Quake

“Lark,” he practically whimpers, and his muscles strain against my fingers as he pulls out of my mouth. “Stick your tongue out,” he rushes to say.

I listen obediently, sticking my tongue all the way out and exposing as much of my neck as I can to him before he spills his cum all over my face and chest. Once his eyes are back on me, I swallow what made its way into my mouth.

His nostrils flare as he watches me lick my lips, and it emboldens me to swipe a finger through the cum on my chest, bringing it to my mouth. I suck, moaning as his arousal coats my tongue.

“Get up,” he says once he’s recovered, his dick still hard and bobbing against his chiseled abdomen. Once I’m standing, he spins me, pushing my chest into the bed, my ass exposed to him. “Now, I’m gonna spank this tight little ass, and if you scream, I’m fucking it with my cock.”

My core clenches, and my eyes nearly roll back.

He positions himself behind me, running the head of his cock through my folds and up my ass before taking a step back. I fight another whimper as it climbs up my throat.

One hand is on my right ass cheek, rubbing circles across it as he bends forward, biting down on the skin of my left cheek. My body tenses, pain and pleasure mixing into one deliriously euphoric concoction.

“This tattoo, it’ll be the fucking death of me, you know,” he grinds out, referring to the tiny pink heart tattooed in the center of my left ass cheek.

“I’m sorry.” I moan, unsure as to whether or not he wants me to answer.

“What did I say about apologizing?” he asks me, but there’s no bite to his tone. His massive hand makes contact, a loud smack erupting as I fall even farther forward from the force. The painradiates to my needy center, feeling so much better than I’d have anticipated. He works the skin with his fingers, soothing it.

He delivers several more deliberate blows, and when my ass is on fire, actual, genuine pain searing through me, he lifts my hips and tosses me into the center of the bed. Gianni climbs over me, running his nose up the length of my neck, my sore ass feeling raw against my bed, but I’m still so turned on I could cry. When his lips make it to the shell of my ear, I shudder. “I got a little carried away,” he murmurs. “So I’ll give you the choice because I’m feeling generous.”

My thighs clench with anticipation. “Either I can fuck you into this mattress with no regard for your aching ass, or…” He draws out the word. “I can lay back and let you slide your pretty pussy up and down my shaft while I choke you until you’re coming undone on my cock. Choose wisely, sweetheart.”

How is this man real?

It’s like he’s taken a drive down memory lane of every one of my fantasies and somehow managed to bring them to life, bigger and better than even my imagination could render them.

“I want to ride you,” I tell him, trying to sound confident and assured. Truthfully though? I’m terrified that he’ll split me in half. His dick is nearly the length of my forearm and almost just as thick. But maybe my eyes are deceiving me.

He rolls off me, lying back against my pillows with an arm behind his head, but his eyes flit to where my phone sits on the nightstand. He sits up, grabs it and hands it to me. “Check your sugar,” he says before saying, “please.”

I ignore the need to rub the heel of my palm over my heart where it aches in my chest.

Nodding, I open the app for my CGM, and when I see a reassuring number, I turn it for him to see. He stares at the screen before his eyes flick to mine. “One forty-one is good, right? So your blood sugars don’t drop too low?”

A small smile stretches my lips, and I nod. “That’s right,” I confirm, and I hear the little breath he releases. I lock the screen, set the phone back down, and crawl closer to him.

His cock is now standing straight up, waiting for me. Clearly, he’s recovered from his orgasm just a few minutes ago.

Everything about that fact makes me feel desired in a way I hadn’t known possible, but as my mouth starts to salivate with need, I’m struck with a realization that threatens to dampen the heat searing through me.

“I don’t have a condom,” I tell him with wide eyes.

“I haven’t slept with anyone in over five years. It’s up to you, but I don’t have one either. This isn’t why I came over today.” He adds the last sentence softly, reminding me that he’s not using me or expecting more from me than I can give in return.

“Tyler and I haven’t had sex in probably a year, and I always made him wear a condom.”

I lift my leg to straddle him, doing my best to hover just over his tip without sinking down just yet. “God, you have no idea what that does to me.” He groans.

“Huh?” I ask, confused.

“You’ve known me for just a few short weeks, and you already trust me more than that pig.” He breathes. “It fucking delights me.” His eyes flare as he grips his shaft, rubbing the head against my entrance and urging me to lower myself onto him.

“God,” I cry out as the first inch stretches me wide.

He groans, biting his lip again. “I prefer Gi, but god will do,” he pants out.

“I’d smack you if I weren’t so caught up trying to keep from splitting in two,” I grit out at him, almost frustrated at his ability to make a joke right now.

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