Page 24 of Festive Fugitive
“You did?” I blush at the idea that he’s bought me something that personal. With Cesar between my legs, I’m getting hard fast. I can’t resist him, and I don’t even try. What’s the worst that can happen? He’ll lock me up in this cabin forever? At least I’d be safe and well fed. And well-fucked.
He nods, his dark hair tousled and still damp to the touch. When did I reach to his head? I have no fucking clue, but he moans, and licks his way up my cock as if it’s his favorite meal, so he must not mind my touch. His chin has grown enough stubble to scratch my cockhead when he leans forward, popping his head under my top.
My toes curl. My nipples pebble.
And when something tickles my tender hole, my body jerks up, already engulfed in fire. I might be tender down there, but if he wants to, I’d let him have another go with me. It’s like a drug that a man like Cesar wants me.
I make a needy moan when he sucks in half my dick. So hot, warm, wet. And while he’s teasing my ass with his finger, his other hand also delves under my hoodie to greedily squeeze my pec. I can sense how much he desires me in his every touch. The synapses in my brain are short-circuiting in response to his scent. I meant it when I told him I’d be up for it whenever.
The scent of burning wood, and the aroma of orange and cinnamon clinging to the jacket I took off, combine in the warm air of the cabin, making my head spin.
This man will either take me to safety and a life of love and pleasure, or will be my downfall. Either way, I’m taking that leap.
His finger is wet with saliva when it finally pushes in, and I find myself arching, my back and thigh muscles rigid by the time I bottom out in Cesar’s mouth. He feels incredible—all heat and sturdy flesh, and while I’m the one being pleasured, he never lets me entertain illusions about who’s in control here.
Cesar is the one who decides how deeply he sucks me, when to tease my prostate, and when to leave me wanting. I can barely take it, but in spite of all my begging, he keeps pushing me to new heights of arousal, until I’m so horny that an orgasm crashes over me unexpectedly.
It’s like tumbling down a mountain, and by the time I find myself wrapped in his arms, limp from exhaustion, I feel like I’ve just climbed Mount Everest, and he’s welcoming me back home.
I’m tender all over and make little moans as he strokes my sweaty back under the hoodie. I can hardly think after my orgasm, my mind an empty road with tumbleweed rolling across it.
“That was so good,” I whisper to make sure he knows how much I appreciate him. He might have said I’m not clingy, but he has no idea how much I already want to attach myself to him. I want to sleep with him spooning me, I want to eat breakfast sitting in his lap, and watch movies with his dick in my mouth.
I want to become a part of him, for us to be entwined so inseparably that he can’t imagine a life away from me anymore.
His lips taste of my cum, and I give a breathless laugh after licking their plump flesh.
“Happy to be of service,” Cesar teases, but I’m back to peak awareness when he places my hand on his hard dick.
Of course he’s still hard, and I’ve neglected him!
I meet his gaze. He might only have one eye, but it’s so attentive and always focused on me. I squeeze his cock with a groan of pleasure. “How do you want me? You’ve not had my mouth yet,” I offer, but it isn’t selfless. I’m dying to taste him.
Oh, he likes that. I can see it in the way his eye darkens further, black as a drop of tar when he chews on his lip and moves to straddle me.
“What exactly did you say? However and whenever I want?” he whispers before pinning me to the couch with a fast yet intense kiss.
I miss his hot tongue as soon as he backs away. Overwhelmed by how he now towers over me, I swallow, glancing at him as if he’s my new God. Whether he’s the one love-bombing me or me falling all too quickly, I don’t know, and I don’t care. My heart is raw, and he can eat it like that if he wants to.
“Yes,” I say, moving my hands up his sides. He’s so fucking sturdy. “Fuck my throat raw if you feel like it.”
He growls, squeezing my flanks with both hands, as if he’s trying to restrain himself. But there’s no need for it. I want him. I wantthis. And I want him to wantmemost of all.
He licks me across the lips, then grabs my jaw hard and slides his tongue in, probing, testing my wet mouth, and incredibly, a jolt of arousal trails down my balls. But then he’s up, one hand on the back rest right next to my head, and I only get to see his purple shaft for a moment before it splits me open.
I look up, doing everything I can to let as much of his cock in fast, but everything happens so fast I choke alittle. I hope my eyes communicate that I don’t want him to stop.
He’s big.
I’m no newbie to giving head though, so I take a deep breath through my nose and relax for him. My fingers gravitate to his hips, because I adore touching his body.
My eyes tear up, but I still see him throw his head back in pleasure, his Adam’s apple pronounced as it bobs. He’s so damn handsome. I can’t believe my luck.
“Then I’ll make you mine. I’ll make you the perfect fuck sleeve for my cock. And you will love it so much you will beg if I forget to feed you a daily helping of cum.”
That voice. It’s pure sex, and intoxicates me like a well-distilled spirit when strong fingers cradle my head, holding it at the angle he likes.
I zone out as if his words alone push me into a reality in which I’ve been his for years, taking load after load, whenever he wants to finish inside me. Maybe I’m being stupid, having those kinds of fantasies about a man who could overpower me so easily, but I want the danger. And I want a guy so pumped full of testosterone, he wants to fuck me twice a day.
