Page 88 of Drawn By Dragonblood
Chapter 32
Jonathan
My dick had been stiff for what felt like hours, long enough my balls ached and I almost wished the magical need to fuck would stop working for a day or two. That part of my body had no issue with Elijah leaving us behind, but my chest sure as hell did.
A different sort of pain knifed at my heart, digging into my breastbone and becoming too damn uncomfortable as Dakota and I climbed the stairs to our second-floor apartment. We’d made sure our car had been returned home from the trailhead by a couple of Elijah’s employees as he’d informed us earlier. One less thing to worry about.
The stairwell smelled like trash and stale cigarettes, the roof overhead seeming to push down atop us, smothering the happiness I’d been swimming in for hours on end.
That newfound purpose I’d been contemplating by being the catalyst that had begun to fulfill my wife’s fantasies faded into the recesses of my mind as shit from pre-Elijah trickled back in with every step up the stairs. And walking through the creaky, flimsy-as-fuck door that led to the place we called home?
Our apartment was small and could easily fit inside Elijah’s living space in the main area of his cavern-like home.
Thinking of what we’d left behind in the mountains, the comfort he easily afforded in spoiling my wife when I’d been able to give her nothing but this shithole, turned my thoughts dark. Old insecurities came rushing in, hitting me from all sides as my foster father had done. Add in my desire to submit sexually to Elijah, and I started to question if I was even a real man. I couldn’t fucking provide for my wife. Got hard for another dude. Salivated to crawl for him and kiss his feet for fuck’s sake.
A muscle ticked in my jaw.
I hated New York.
Our apartment and everything it stood for and reminded me of.
But one good thing, the only good thing in my life, remained the same.
Dakota stood before me, and what a view she gifted my suddenly needy heart.
I wanted nothing more than to rip the damn backpack off her shoulders, slam her against the wall, and bury myself so damn deep in her pussy that nothing else mattered. Where we were, how the past attempted to tear me down, and the fact a piece of me felt like it was missing.
Desperation tensed my body tight, and I couldn’t help myself. I dropped my bag and spun my wife around, attacking her mouth, my hands palming her ass and lifting her against my throbbing cock.
“Need you,” I growled against her lips, gyrating my hips and showing her exactly how much.
She clawed at my shirt, sweeping her hands up over my pecs to dig her nails into my shoulders with intense hunger I’d never tasted on her tongue before.
“Fuck.” I peeled her off me and ripped at my shirt, staring and salivating as she kicked off a sneaker and pushed down her pants, hopping to get one foot cleared.
Jeans around my knees, I grabbed her again, uncaring that her pants hung off her other leg, trapped by the second sneaker still on her foot. One thrust seated me balls deep in her sopping pussy, and I groaned a few curses while pressing her against the wall and burying my face in her neck.
This was comfort. Dakota was my home.
My lungs sucked in oxygen freely for what felt the first time in hours rather than agonizing minutes, and I buried my face in her hair, frantic for release both physically and mentally.
But an ache remained in my chest, no matter how deeply I burrowed or how harshly I impaled her lush body.
“Fuck, I wish he was here,” I said, pumping into her, my hips thrusting in abandon.
“Yes,” Dakota whimpered, her hands ripping at my hair, as I tunneled into her over and over. “Oh, God, yes…need him. Miss him.”
I licked along her neck, grunting and groaning, trying to split her body in half with my aching cock as visions of Elijah’s intense gaze seared my brain.
“Want his hands on me,” I gasped. “On you.”
I swear to fucking God the scent of him filled my nose, and Dakota cried out, her nails in my scalp, pussy clenching down on me hard enough stars exploded behind my eyes as my balls let loose.
Each spurt up through my shaft sent a shudder through my spine, caused a groan to rumble in my chest, and I clenched my jaw to keep from biting my wife’s soft flesh.
“Goddamn!” I growled between my teeth as the last pulse of my cock broke my body into goose bumps. Buried deep, I stilled, sucking wind with my mouth plastered to Dakota’s neck. “Holy fuck, that was intense.”
“Mmm.” Dakota’s hold on my head loosened, and she ran her fingers through my too-long hair. “We’re both sex-crazed lunatics.” She giggled, and I squeezed her plump ass cheeks, trying to push my semi deeper into her warmth.
