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Page 24 of Starting Over With the Sea Monster

Christ, I need to be careful or I’ll get carried away again. She looks so sweet watching me through watery eyes. Mouth open for my use, expression hungry and willing.

I pump my hips, thrusting into her mouth until the sweetness threatens to overtake me. Reluctantly, I slow, pulling back to allow her a breather.

Or me. I’m enjoying this far too much already.

When she pulls back, saliva coats my cock and trails to her lips as she sucks in a long breath. It’s not wet enough yet to shift me. Saliva doesn’t have quite the same qualities as tears or water. The salt in tears makes them especially dangerous. But it’s not far off. She pulls forward against my hold on her hair, licking up the base of my shaft and drawing a muttered curse from me.

“Tell me what you want. Your mouth feels amazing, but what do you want from me?”

“I—?” She colors and drops her gaze. “Whatever you want.”

I shake my head. “First mistake, Olivia. I’m not your boyfriend. This is a hookup. Don’t trust me to make you feel good. Demand what you want.”

Without giving her time to answer, I push her further back until her head is resting over the arm of the sofa. Then I lean over her to spread her legs and touch her over the thin yoga pants she has on as I plunge my cock back between her lips.

She parts her legs further, moaning around me as I use her mouth. At this angle, I can go deeper still and I take advantage. Soon I’m gritting my teeth, holding my own pleasure back while I rub her through her clothing, giving her enough pressure to make her hips roll as her need builds.

I love that this is turning her on like it’s doing to me. That she wants this, even as she needs more. She lets me take what I want from her without protest, and I want her to protest. I want her to demand her own pleasure. I want her to chase it, to take it from me. That’s how you fuck when there are no feelings involved. Ruthlessly. Hungrily. Until you’ve slaked your lust on the other person just as they have with you.

That’s the first lesson Olivia needs to learn.

Her chest rises and falls with every rough circle of my fingers over her clit. Lifting her hips, she meets my touch, begging silently for more than what I’m giving her even as she drives me closer to my own orgasm every moment.

Usually I’d hold back. That’s the difference between men and women. If I come too quickly, there will be a recovery period. Usually I’d take care of my partner first several times. Just because I’m ruthless in taking what I want doesn’t mean I don’t want them to enjoy themselves too. But if she wants this from me, she needs to ask. To demand.

My hips pump in a steady rhythm. My balls tighten as she takes everything I demand of her.

I’m naked, but she’s still fully clothed, a fact I’d like to rectify. Only I don’t want to stop now.

All my pent-up frustration from the last few nights rises to a crescendo. All that need I refused to release until now.

Roughly, I yank her top up to bare small pert breasts. Her nipples are tight with need, their dusky pink color standing out starkly against Olivia’s pale skin. I remember how sensitive they are.

She cries out when I stop touching her pussy, but her mouth is busy. Cupping both breasts, one in each hand, I increase my speed until my orgasm is inevitable. I squeeze her, loving the way her back arches. She moans around my cock.

I don’t stop to ask if I can come in her mouth, I just unleash. I come right down her throat, and, panting, I pull back to look down at the needy mess I’ve made of her.

Olivia wipes a hasty hand across her mouth. She presses her legs together and I know she must be aching. But she sits, adjusting her hair and smoothing down her top.

“God damn it, Zeston. Ask me!”

She blinks. “Oh, but I thought…” She squirms and I can see her fighting herself. “I thought you were making a point about the other night.” Her cheeks are flushed, her hair a mess. She looks a picture of contrition and desire.

I should leave her like this and do just that.

Instead, a growl tears from my throat. “Do you need to come or not?”

“Yes.” The word is barely a whisper, but the look of need she shoots me has my spent cock twitching and sends a twist of guilt through me.

Dropping to my knees before her, I grasp the waistband of her pants and yank them over her hips. She gasps as I tug them free of her ankles and toss them aside. “Then ask me to make you come.”

“Make me…” She cuts herself off, blushing furiously, but I’m too impatient to wait any longer.

I pull one leg over each of my shoulders and dip my head toward her slick and swollen pussy. “Close enough.”

As soon as I get close, I can see how much she needs this. Her lips are plump and wet. The little nub of her clit pushes out from the hood, begging for my attention. Well she’s fucking got it.

Lowering my head, I take my first proper taste, and it nearly ends me.


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