She practically purrs when I tighten my grip on her hair, so I clench her hip even tighter and thrust upwards, slamming myself all the way inside of her tight pussy. Phina lets out a yelp and an apology is on the tip of my tongue until she lifts her hips, my cock sliding almost all the way out of her before she drops right back down, impaling herself on my dick.
Clutching onto her hair, I jerk her head back and expose her throat while I begin roughly fucking up into her, pushing and pulling her hips as hard as I can, moving her up and down on my cock. I lean forward, wrapping my lips around the smooth skin of her throat and bite down while I fuck her.
“I fucking hate you, I fucking hate you,” she chants in between moans as the bench beneath us creaks and rocks with the force of my thrusts.
Her thighs tighten around my legs as she helps me move her. She bounces up and down on my cock, slamming our groins together so hard I swear I’m going to have bruises. Everything about this moment is going to be forever seared in my brain. The sound of her moans of pleasure ringing through my ears, the way her pussy clenches around me and how her skin tastes as I continue to bite and nip at her neck. She’s so wet that she easily slides up and down my cock, no matter how hard I fuck her. She’s so tight I feel like a fist is squeezing my cock. Something about this moment, about the feel of her wrapped around me, the smell of her arousal and the taste of her skin is so goddamn familiar that it’s like a punch to the gut. She feels familiar. She feels like home and like I’ve been waiting years to come back to this exact place, waiting for this exact moment when I could be inside of her again.
My balls tighten with the need to come and I push those thoughts aside because they have no business here. I’ve never fucked Phina before, but I’ve dreamt of it so many times that the familiarity is probably only natural.
“Harder!” she shouts as she slides her fingers through my hair and squeezes so hard I feel some of it being pulled out by the roots. I’m so glad she didn’t tell me she hates me again that I’ll do whatever the fuck she asks.
My hips move like pistons, my cock driving into her so hard and fast that my thighs start to ache, but I don’t let up. I keep pounding into her over and over, slamming her down on top of me so hard I’m surprised I don’t break her in half.
“Fuck, I’m coming! Fuck, I fucking hate you!” she shouts as she grinds herself on top of my dick and her pussy clenches around me.
So much for stopping that whole hate thing.
My dick is surrounded by wet heat and the pulsing of her release and it feels so fucking good that it pushes me right over the edge. With a roar, I bite down even harder on her neck as I come, tasting blood on my tongue as she bounces up and down on top of me, prolonging my orgasm until I feel like I’m going to die from pleasure.
Her pussy milks my cock as she continues to ride me, and I swear to Christ nothing has ever felt better. With a final thrust up into her, I hold myself still for a few seconds before my ass slumps back to the bench. Phina’s body follows, her hands dropping from their death grip on my hair as she drapes her arms over my shoulders and collapses against my chest.
With my cock still buried inside of her, I wrap my arms around her and hold her against me until my heartbeat returns to normal and I feel like I can finally breathe without passing out.
“I hate you so much,” she whispers softly, her face pressed against the side of my neck. There isn’t any anger or conviction in her voice this time, just a tinge of sadness and exhaustion.
“I hate you too, Fireball,” I lie with a smile, tightening my hold on her.
“I shucking fate him,” I slur, after my sixth shot of tequila. Or was that seven?
After removing myself from DJ’s lap in the locker room, I watched him scoop up my underwear and shove them in his pants pocket before I stormed out of there and away from the comfort of his arms. Fight Night had officially ended by the time I got back out to the truck bay, and a bunch of people were heading to McCallahan’s to celebrate the police department’s victory over the fire station. I figured it would be a good place to hide and drink away my troubles without having to worry about DJ showing his face. He basically lost Fight Night for the station because of his jealous pissing match with Dax, and I figured his ego wouldn’t allow him anywhere near the place. Stupid me for thinking for one second that DJ wasn’t a stand-up guy and wouldn’t want to celebrate even though he lost. Five minutes after I got here, he came strolling in, congratulating the victors and easily taking all the good-natured ribbing from everyone. I ordered as many shots of tequila as the bartender would allow, slammed my ass down on a barstool and haven’t moved since. It didn’t help that every time I fidgeted on the wooden seat, I winced at the tenderness in my fucking vagina and thighs and immediately remembered every second of what it felt like to have DJ pounding away inside of me.