Page 67 of Bullet

“Bullet,” I moan, reaching down to fist my hand in his lush hair.

He raises his eyes and our gazes lock, which only seems to unlock a new beat mode. He eats me like he’s gone feral, devouring me as he promised.

It’s not just his mouth, but his hands that drive me wild. He strokes my clit with his calloused fingertips as his mouth works hard to make me lose control.

I drop back, unable to hold myself up, my head thrashing against the blanket. I swear my skull is digging a groove straight through it, right into the soft earth below.

“Oh my god. Fuck.” I grasp the blanket with one fist and Bullet’s hair with the other.

He never stops his sinful onslaught, working his tongue along my seam, eating me noisily, his mouth so hot in contrast to the cooler night.

“So good,” he groans. “So fucking good, Lynette. Do you realize what the taste of you does to me? Do you realize that it turns me into a beast?” He punctuates his words with hot kisses and long strokes of his tongue against my burning flesh. “I’m gonna make you come. I’m gonna make you shatter. You can scream my name if you want, not because I’m owning you, but because you’ve unspooled everything I am.”

Hearing his words unlocks a new realm inside me, a door that pleasure pours through, flooding my body. He lashes me with his tongue, working me with his fingers. He doesn’t have to put them inside me to make me come. I’m going to break apart just like this.

I was so unsure of my own body, but seeing the pleasure Bullet takes in doing this, his utter delight and the way he’s transformed, as though he truly is a beast with no control, is so heady that I can barely process it. I never thought I could give myself up to another person. Even when I came out here, I didn’t think I could do it. My body is one thing, but my heart, soul, and brain are another.

Right now, it’s as though every element in me has been pulled into one force, and when Bullet commands me, in his hoarse voice, to come for him, and pinches my clit while he lashes my folds, thrusting his tongue up inside me, they all compress together and explode in a burst of blinding white heat.

He doesn’t let up for a second, forcing me to face the depths of that orgasm. I can’t breathe through it. I can’t think. I can only clutch at the blanket and sob out something, though it’s probably not even words.

My walls clench in on themselves, my muscles spasming, as he wrings the pleasure from me.

As soon as the waves recede and I can open my eyes and gasp out anything at all, I hold out my hand, palm up. “Please,” I whisper. “Please, come here.” I want to hold him. I want him inside me, filling the emptiness that is still there. I’m like a glutton. After a single taste of pleasure, I need to drink my fill.

Of course, Bullet rocks back on his heels, pulling himself up so I can watch him lick his lips and then suck on his fingers. He groans, savoring the last taste of me.

I’d wanted to control some of this at the start. To dictate the way it would go. I’d feared losing control more than anything. Surrender in any area of my life has never been possible. Surrender to despair, to tears, to fear, to uncertainty. I never had any idea that surrender could be a transcendent thing, or that it could be good and right, but there’s an undeniable truth in this that rocks my foundations.

Bullet undoes his belt and unzips his jeans, pulling his cock out of his boxers, running his hand down over the thick, veiny shaft. He’s as beautiful now as that night in the living room.

I’ve wanted to taste him, to know what he’d feel like against my tongue, to take him inside me and have him fill me. To do all the things I would have considered base and probably even dirty. To wear his seed, to be marked by every part of him.

“I brought condoms,” he says, stroking his shaft and running his hand over the head, smearing the glistening precum down his length.

“I’m on the pill, but thank you for being considerate and responsible.”

That sounds terribly prudish and I almost want to laugh at myself, but there’s nothing funny or prim about the savage groan that tears from his throat as he jacks his thick length. “Just the thought of being inside you bare makes me want to blow all over the place.”

Thinking about being coated with those hot jets, my insides throb.

Christ, I’ve never had such debased, wild images enter my head before. They’re totally wanton, shocking, and right now, so delicious that they pool between my thighs. My walls clench in on themselves, needing him. Needing to be filled. Taken. Owned. Dominated. Fucked into the damn ground.

All of that would have felt so dangerous and wrong before, but now, I just need. I need him so badly that he could literally do anything to me right now. There could be a whole damn town assembled right there on the road, and I wouldn’t stop.

“Want you on top,” Bullet says, his hand never ceasing. He’s so hard now, so swollen, that his tip is a dark purple.

I know he’s giving this to me because he thinks that I need it. I want to tell him that I trust him enough to do this however he wants, but I also want him inside me so badly that I can’t find any words.

I scramble up, letting him sit down on the edge of the blanket.

I straddle him again, wrap my hand around his shaft, and position himself at my entrance.

“Go slow,” he warns, but that fullness pressed up against where I need him so badly that I could die, having him exactlywhere I’ve wanted him for what has felt like an eternity, brings out the animal inme. “I’m not small and I don’t want to hurt—”

I surge forward, seating him all the way inside me until I grind myself against his jeans and boxers. His zipper grinds into me, but I don’t care. There’s only his thick cock, splitting me so far apart that it’s painful, my walls clenching around him so tight that I’ll never let him go.

“Fuck!” he roars out into the night. He clutches my ass, jerking upright, our chests slamming together, our mouths tangling in a kiss that’s all teeth and fierceness. When I come up for air, he picks me up, arranging me so that my feet are out behind him, and thrusts deeper inside me, moving slowly, filling me with care. I’m so overwhelmed by the thickness of him stretching me all over again, that I almost miss the violent shudder that wracks his huge frame.

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