Page 65 of Huntsman
And it terrifies me.
The last time I cared—I loved—she was brutally taken from me to a place that I couldn’t follow. Different situation, but the terror is the same. It’s real.
I slap her thigh, and her eyes narrow on me.
“Turn over. Ass in the air,” I order.
She rises on her elbows, eyes narrowed. Slowly, she eases backward and then prowls toward me.
“Nah, Malachi, this ain’t that. You turn over.” Her tone is soft, but there’s steel underneath, and I’m reacting to that note before my mind even acknowledges it.
Without breaking our visual contact, I drop to my back, and she gifts me with a smile that’s both beautiful and sinister. Both set my blood pumping, my dick throbbing.
She climbs on top of me, not stopping until she’s clutching the headboard and her pussy hovers over my face. I inhale, palm her thick thighs, and push my face into her cunt, dragging Eshe’s unique perfume into my lungs. It centers me, forces the panicto retreat, and once more I’m lost in her. I lightly bite one puffy lip and slowly sink two fingers inside her. Slick, smooth muscles clamp down on them, and more of her juice trickles down my hand. I lap at the trail, catching every bit of her. I’m of thewaste not, want notschool of thought, and I’m not wasting one goddamn thing about her.
A long, low moan escapes her, and she rocks against my mouth, spreads her legs wider. Reaching a hand down, she clutches my head harder to her. I get the hint. As I take up an almost-punishing pace in her pussy, pulling free and slamming my fingers inside, twisting my wrist and corkscrewing between those quivering walls, I latch onto her clit. My knuckles pound against her folds, and goddamn, that pussy sucks at me so tightly, so greedily, my fingers might very well be bruised black and blue.
A steady stream of cries falls from her as she bucks and grinds those gorgeous hips. I savor the slap of my fingers against the inside of her thighs and her soaked flesh. With a hungry growl, I suck harder on her clit, flicking it with firm licks. Thrusting my way high up into her, I curl my fingertips, stroking that smooth pad that draws a full-body shudder from her, as well as my name on the tail end of a scream.
Her cunt clamps down on me, and in the next moment, she showers me in cum.Fuuuuck.It runs down my fingers, my knuckles, my hand, dripping onto my chin and neck. How the fuck am I supposed to have normal sex again? Return to other people after this sight? After her goddamn bathing me? And I haven’t even had my dick inside her yet.
Her chest heaves, and finally, her body relaxes, though shivers continue to run through her. I lap at the residue of her cum, cleaning her thighs of all evidence of her orgasm. I’m so fucking hard, need to be in her so damn bad, I’m in physical pain. I want that—that rain shower of cum—on my cock.
As if the same thought claims her mind, she shifts backward until her pussy slides over my dick. The groan that escapes me is pained, greedy. Sweat dots her chest and throat, and unable toresist the lure of it, I swipe my hand over her slickened skin and lick the perspiration from my palm.
She mimics me, gliding her hand up the middle of my chest, up my throat, until she’s squeezing my jaw. Lowering over me, she whispers against my mouth.
“You gonna put that dick in me, Malachi?”
It’s an invitation. A challenge. And I’m more than ready to answer both.
“Eshe.” I call her name even though her lust-bright eyes are fixed on me. Her breath ghosts over my lips, and my stomach cramps for another taste of her even though I just had my fill. “I’ve never fucked without a condom, little queen,” I murmur, and it shouldn’t be possible, but her eyes gleam brighter with a fierce light.
One that says she likes what she just heard. What did she say before? She claimed me as hers. And though she doesn’t speak, her snarledmineechoes in my head. I’ve never brought anyone to my places before. Hotel rooms, alleys, bathrooms—but never where I lay my head, so there’s no reason to have condoms stashed here. And I don’t have one on me. But even if I did…
Call me a stupid muthafucka, but I don’t want nothing separating her pussy from me. I’m already wearing her on my skin, and I want all of her. No barriers. At least not physically.
Her hand shoots out, circles my throat again as I did to her earlier. And her grip isn’t loose. It’s firm, threatening, constricting my air, and I can feel every pump of blood through my veins.
“Know who you’re fucking,” she softly warns, her overbright gaze roaming my face. After several seconds, she slides that hand to the nape of my neck. “Get inside me. Now.”
Anticipation surges, and a hot band loops around my lower back, pulling tight. Gliding my dick through her saturated folds, I get good and wet. My cockhead nudges her clit, and she bares her teeth at me, hissing.
Fuck.
Reaching behind my neck, I grasp her wrist and bring herhand to my mouth—her hand with the missing pinkie finger. Her eyes flare, and she tries to jerk her arm back, but my hold on her hand tightens.
I lower my head and brush my lips over the smooth patch of skin…
And drive inside her.
Her lips part on a silent scream, her head tipping back. I grind my teeth against the back draft of ecstasy that blasts through me.
Holy shit.
This pussy is fucking fire.
I still, all my muscles locking. I’m dying inside her.
