Page 45 of Depraved

"Sarge?" I called out, my voice echoing slightly in the quiet space.

A muffled response came from the direction of the bedroom. I made my way down the short hallway, my heels clicking against the hardwood floors. As I rounded the corner into the master suite, I was greeted by a sight that made my blood catch fire.

Sarge had just emerged from the shower, water still beading on his bronzed skin. A towel hung low on his hips. His long hair dripped onto his chest, and my mouth literally watered.

The air between us felt charged, crackling with the tension we'd been dancing around for years. My skin tingled with awareness, every nerve ending hypersensitive to his gaze. I thought back to the last time we'd been this close—his tongue working magic between my thighs in the jet bathroom. I licked my suddenly dry lips, my eyes never leaving his.

"Lala," Sarge said, his voice low and rough.

“Sarge,” I said back, a small smile stretching my lips as I ran my eyes deliberately up and down his body.

Sarge's eyes darkened, hunger etched in every line of his face. "Fuck it," he growled, closing the distance between us in two long strides.

His large hands gripped my waist, lifting me effortlessly as he spun and pressed me against the wall. The cool surface was a shock against my heated skin. My legs wrapped around his hips instinctively, the towel falling away as I felt the hard length of him press against my pussy.

Sarge's fingers hooked under the thin straps of my dress, yanking them down roughly. The delicate fabric tore, exposingmy breasts. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he lowered his head, capturing one nipple between his lips.

I gasped, arching into him as his tongue swirled around the sensitive peak. One hand tangled in his damp hair, holding him close as I moaned. Sarge's hips ground against me, the friction delicious even through the thin layer of fabric still between us. I could feel how hard he was, how desperately he wanted this. Wanted me.

"Sarge," I moaned, my head falling back against the wall as he switched his attention to my other breast. "Please..."

He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze. "Tell me what you want, baby girl. You want me to fuck this pretty pussy the way you deserve?" Reaching between us, he snaked his fingers under my dress before roughly ripping my lacy underwear off. “Do you know how many times I fucked my fist to the thought of you in the room?”

I whimpered, my hips grinding shamelessly against him. "I need you…" I breathed.

His fingers teased along my wet pussy, gathering my wetness before circling my clit. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"That's it, baby," Sarge murmured, his lips brushing my ear. "Let me hear how much you want it." He slid two thick fingers inside me, curling them just right. My inner walls clenched around him as pure, white-hot pleasure shot through me. "Fuck, you're so damn perfect."

I fumbled to snake my hand between us, desperate to feel him. Sarge batted my hand away. The blunt head of his cock nudged my entrance, making me gasp. He didn’t need my help to line himself up. He was fucking ready.

"Look at me," Sarge commanded.

I forced my eyes open, meeting his dark gaze. Slowly, torturously, he pushed inside. I moaned as he stretched me,filling me completely. He was so fucking thick. So long and deliciously thick, and warm and hard.

"That's my good girl," he praised, beginning to move. He leaned in, capturing my lower lip with his teeth, biting gently. I groaned.

His thrusts were hard and deep, each one punctuated by a grunt. I clung to him, meeting him stroke for stroke, writhing in his lap as he held me against the wall, my thighs braced around his hips.

How many times had I imagined this exact scenario? How many times did I moan his name in the dark of my room at night?

I whimpered, clinging to his broad shoulders as he pounded into me relentlessly. Every thrust sent waves of insane pleasure coursing through my body, setting my nerve endings on fire. The coarse hair on his chest rubbed deliciously against my sensitive nipples with each movement.

"That's it," Sarge praised, his breath hot against my neck. "Take it all, sweetheart. You're doing so fucking good."

He growled, the sound vibrating through his chest and straight to my core. Without warning, he gripped my ass tightly and pushed off from the wall. I gasped, clinging to his shoulders as he carried me across the room, still buried deep inside me.

Each step jostled me, making me bounce harder on his length. My head fell back, exposing my throat to his hungry mouth. Sarge took full advantage, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as he walked.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—" I chanted, my filter completely gone as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity. "I... oh god... I love you…"

The words tumbled from my lips before I could stop them, raw and honest in the heat of the moment. Sarge's steps faltered for just a second before he growled again, the sound animal andpossessive. We reached the bed and he lowered me onto the soft mattress, never breaking our connection.

Sweat glistened on his bronzed skin, droplets rolling down the defined planes of his chest and abs. I reached up, running my hands over his slick muscles, marveling at the way they flexed and rippled beneath my touch. His long hair fell around us like a curtain, tickling my face and shoulders.

I could see the muscles in his jaw working as he gritted his teeth, fighting for control. "Fuck, Lala. I've been such a goddamn idiot." He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust. "All these years," Sarge continued, his breath coming in harsh pants. "All this time, I've been fighting it. Telling myself I couldn't have you. That I didn't deserve you."

His hand slid up my body, calloused fingers trailing fire across my heated skin. He cupped my face, thumb tracing my lower lip as he stared into my eyes. Sarge's thrusts slowed, becoming deep and deliberate.

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