Tied(60)

“Drew, I haven’t come in six weeks. The only thing I want is your cock so deep inside me, I can taste it.”

I don’t actually remember leaving the restaurant after that. Kate’s awesomely dirty revelation must have fried my brain.

The next thing I know, we’re on the sidewalk and I’m dragging her to the side of the building—to the narrow alley just wide enough to fit a Dumpster that faces the street. I have enough awareness to bring Kate to the far side of it—so we’re shielded from the view of cars and pedestrians. My eyes scan the path for intruders. Finding none, I devote all of my attention to Kate—to making up for all the screwless days she’s endured.

My hand buries itself in her hair, gripping the soft strands, holding her head captive as I plunder her mouth with my tongue. She writhes and rubs against me, pulling my shirt free of my pants and working on my belt.

It’s times like this I wish God had made people more like octopuses—six extra hands would be convenient right about now. We’re ravenous for each other—tearing and pulling at annoying clothes, wanting to touch every erogenous zone at the same time.

It reminds me of the first time we kissed, that night in my office years ago. It feels the same as that night—I’d wanted Kate, fantasized about her for weeks then too. The difference now is, I know precisely what I’ve been fucking missing. So I’m even hungrier for her, bordering on totally out of control.

My hand slides down the front of her dress, into her bra, straining the fabric. I palm and knead her full breast, and a welcome moan reverberates in Kate’s throat. My fingers rub and pinch her nipple, making it harden to a perfect peak. Kate tears her mouth from mine and moves to my neck—sucking and licking—nipping the sensitive skin with her teeth. Making me weak in the fucking knees.

I switch gears and slide my hands up her thighs, bunching her dress above her waist. Then I kneel down and pause for just a moment to appreciate the sight of her exquisitely smooth snatch.

Panting hard, Kate tries to cover her stomach with her hands. “I know I’m not—”

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence.” I grab her wrists, holding them away from her body.

Pregnancy is a strange experience for women. So many fast-paced changes—mentally, emotionally, physically. And, no, Kate doesn’t look exactly as she did before. But only a total asshole would expect her to.

Only the eminent ruler of all assholes would care.

“You made a person, Kate. A perfectly amazing person.” Then I look up into her eyes and tell her honestly, “You’ve never been more beautiful to me than you are right now.”

A smile tugs at her flushed lips. I release her wrists, lean forward, and press my mouth against the soft flesh of her pussy.

Hello, old friend. I’ve missed you.

I spread her with my fingers and delve in deep. She’s hot on my tongue—already wet—and sweeter than chocolate frigging cake. I cup her ass in my hands, pressing her forward, and revel in the taste of her. My eyes roll back in my head as Kate moans and gasps above me. Her fingernails cut into my shoulder blades, and after only a minute she’s begging.

“Please, Drew . . . I need you inside me. I need to feel you now.”

Unwilling to deny her and incapable of it, I lap at her one last time and stand. I cover her lips with mine and back us up to the wall of the building. As I caress her tits, Kate slips my pants and boxers down my hips.

She takes my straining cock in her hands, pumping it firmly and slowly.

I groan into her mouth.

Then I lift her, cushioning the back of her head with one hand, so it doesn’t smack against the bricks. My other arm is under her ass, holding her up. Kate locks her ankles together at my lower back, then guides my dick home.

I don’t wait. Waiting is just not possible. I plunge into her roughly, deeply.

“Drew . . . ,” she sighs.

Kate’s wet inner walls stretch around me, still blissfully fucking snug. Buried fully, I savor the sensation of being inside her again. Being surrounded and held by intense, hot perfection.

I whisper the only word that matters. “Kate . . .”

Her legs pull me closer, knees squeezing tighter. I do what we’re both craving.

I move.

Slowly, my hips pull back. Kate’s cunt grips my cock spectacularly as it slides from her.

“You feel like fucking heaven,” I moan.

Then I thrust forward hard, rubbing her clit with my pelvis, making sure she’s feeling the same blinding pleasure I am. I keep that pace—slow, rough strokes that make Kate purr every time our bodies collide.

Her eyes close and her mouth finds mine.

We’re gasping and moaning, gripping and pulsing—drowning in fantastic friction. With her cheek pressed against mine, Kate pants, “Oh, God . . . oh, God, Drew, I’m going to come.”