Page 27 of My Masked Shadow
Finally, her eyes drop to where we’re joined, and I take the last few inches of her pussy with one brutal thrust that has her gasping in surprise.
“That’s it,” I say, my voice strangled from the pressure building in my balls. “Watch me claim this hole. Your mouth and ass are next, baby. I’m owning all of you before the day is done.”
“N—no,” she says futilely, even as her hips lift up to offer me more.
“Keep saying no, firecracker.” I punctuate my words with another sharp thrust. “It turns me on.”
“You’re such an asshole,” she says even as she reaches for my wrists where I’m holding on to her hips. Not to push me away, but to anchor herself, connect us more than we already are.
“Call me whatever you want, as long as you call me yours.”
As predicted, that shuts her up. Barbara might be starting to accept our sexual chemistry, but she can’t handle the emotionalconnection. Not yet. Now’s not the time to dig into that, though. Now she gets to cream over my cock.
I tilt her pelvis up and start thrusting with a measured rhythm that’s bound to drive her insane. Every time my cock bumps against her G-spot, she lets out a surprised little whimper that sets my balls on fire.
It’s not long until her channel starts squeezing me tighter, and this time I don’t stop—I go faster, I go harder, fucking her with ruthless precision that brings her back to the edge within seconds.
“Say my name, firecracker. Tell the world who’s making you come so good.”
“Ethan!” she shrieks, followed by a mewling sob, just as she sprays my cock, my pelvis, and my thighs with her release.
“Fuck yeah, that’s my good girl,” I groan. “Squirt all over me. Soak me with your honey. Mark me as yours.”
Barbara squeals when another splash leaves her pussy, and I’m lost. Even though I want to keep her coming until we both pass out, my balls draw up, and lightning shoots down my spine.
“Ah, fuck,” I hiss. “I’m breeding you, firecracker. Take my cum!”
With a guttural growl, I bathe Barbara’s womb with spurts that feel endless, my cock kicking inside her repeatedly. Every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s on fire from pleasure that seems to go on forever. My heart feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest.
Finally, I lean over her, pressing my forehead against hers, enjoying the fluttering aftershocks that dance over my still-hard rod, enjoying the sensation of Barbara’s soft breath against my lips. When my brain unscrambles, I start kissing every part of her face I can reach—the corners of her lips, the tip of her nose, her gently-closed eyelids, the middle of her forehead. I fight theurge to tell her how much I love her, not wanting to be kicked off just yet.
After a while, Barb’s eyelids flutter open. When our gazes meet, her cheeks color a lovely shade of pink I want to put there as often as possible.
“I don’t know why you look so smug,” she mutters. “I don’t think that was even three minutes.”
I bury my head in her neck, laughing against her skin.
“Tell me, firecracker… Has anyone made you squirt before?”
Her silence speaks volumes.
13
BARBARA
My silence stretches for a few seconds too long. Ethan knows it. Hell, Ethan feeds on it. The smug bastard lounges half-on, half-over me like he owns the furniture, the walls, the oxygen in the room—and me. Especially me.
“I hate you,” I mutter, even though my hips are still twitching involuntarily, every muscle trembling from the powerful orgasm he finally let me have.
“You screamed my name so loud I’m surprised your neighbors haven’t filed a noise complaint,” he says with a wolfish smirk. “I’ll take the hate.”
I shove at his chest. Not because I want him off, but because if he stays on top of me like that—warm, heavy, satisfied—my brain will confuse post-sex stupidity for actual romance.
His muscles don’t budge. Of course they don’t. He probably weighs as much as a small motorcycle.
“Get off,” I huff.
He lifts one brow. “Say please.”
