I don’t know how to do relationships, and it’s not because I’m some Casanova asshole like some people think I am, but because I’ve known for a long time that my life wouldn’t be long, and I didn’t want to put it on another person. So, I stayed alone and stuck to my one-night stands. I didn’t know what I was missing though. Now, I’m a different sort of addict, and I don’t think I can let her go.
“Mmm,” she mumbles and turns her face to kiss my forearm.
“Good morning, my queen.”
“Queen?” She giggles. “Since when are you calling me that?”
“Since now, I think. Because you’re my queen.”
She giggles again, tickling the hairs on my arm and wiggling her ass, completely waking up my cock.
“You’ve got some morning wood there.”
“I’ve been awake for a long time—it’s a ‘my queen’s ass is against my crotch situation.’” I reply, grouchy, even though I’m anything but. The morning is perfection.
“Do you need help with that?” She turns to face me. A playful light in her eyes makes my dick jump. “I take that as a yes.”
She sits up, the covers rolling off of her to reveal her gorgeous, naked body and fresh tattoo. Only my hand will ever ink her. Mine.
Then she slowly shifts toward my feet, and my breathing quickens.
“Hands under your head, soldier,” she orders in that tone of hers she’s mastered by now.
“I’m not—” I follow the delicious routine with a smile.
“You are what I say you are.” She bites her lips and rakes her nails over my thighs. My poor—happy—dick jolts again, weeping with precum.
She slowly moves her nails higher up my thighs and spreads her palms over my stomach. The muscles under her touch begin jerking, and a look of satisfaction sweeps across her face. Then she slowly lowers her head and gives it a long, torturous lick. And then another. Then her mouth ends up on the head, and she covers it with her wet, hot mouth. My balls draw, and I will them to stand the fuck down.
I want so badly to dig my fingers into her gorgeous mane and move her head up and down, but I can’t. I’m bound by her order to keep my hands away. I like these games we play—I like to give up control occasionally, especially when she seems to like taking it so much.
Her mouth slowly moves down my cock, and the head hits the back of her throat. She gags and pulls away. Saliva drips from her chin. It’s so fucking dirty. It’s so fucking sexy.
She makes another attempt to take me in, but she can’t, and we both know why. I want to tell her that I’m happy with anything, even with her just looking at me, but then she tilts her head a little so she can see me. Her mouth is full of my dick, and I don’t think I need her to fucking go any further, because I’m going to come just from the view.
She does a few slow pumps while her hands move over my lower stomach, scratching my skin with her nails. She lets go of it with a pop, licking from the base to the tip while maintainingeye contact. And then she puts her mouth on it again, swallowing half of it until it hits her throat.
“Lei.” My voice is coarse. “Lei,” I try again as she keeps moving her head up and down. “Please, come here.” I’m not above the begging. Who the fuck cares if that works for the both of us?
She smiles with my cock still in her mouth and pulls away. She climbs on top of me, positioning my slick dick at the entrance of her pussy, and slides in.
That’s it, I’m in heaven.
After another round—we’re like rabbits, constantly fucking—we sit and eat the breakfast that she’s made from the groceries we bought like a real family and just chat. Then her face darkens, I prepare for the worst: she’ll tell me she’s had her fun, and it’s time to move on with our lives. But I don’t have a life aside from her anymore. I’m like a fucking psycho at this point, and I’m loving it.
“I need to go back to Little Hope, Stephan.” She stands up to pour us more coffee. “I’ve got things to do there. And Kenneth really needs his truck back—he can’t keep driving the police cruiser around.”
“Okay, I’ll go with you.” I shrug, dreading her answer.
“What about your business?” She sits back in her chair and taps her chin with her finger. “To think of it, I think we need to talk logistics. I’m there, and you’re here. I don’t know how we can work around that drive.”
“I can get a house there,” I suggest hopefully.
“Why would you need a house? I already have a place.”
My heart skips a beat in hope.
“Okay, then what’s the problem?”
