Screaming his name, I came as he drove the entirety of his cock into me, and it felt perfect, more than perfect, beyond perfection. It was glorious pain, an ache, a burn, a sting, a fiery raging inferno of sensation I couldn’t fathom. More and more, and more. He was fully inside me, and I was coming, his hips bumped against mine and I wrapped my legs around his waist and buried my face against the side of his neck.
Baxter fucked me, then.
He braced one fist in the pillow beside my face and stared at me, his gaze pinning mine. He slid one hand under my butt and lifted me off the bed, and his hips began pistoning. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, until he reached a steady pace, hips bumping mine, thighs slapping against me. I felt him driving in and out of me, and I gasped and shrieked each time his cock slammed into me. My fingers clawed into his shoulders, and I refused to look away from him, refused to let him look away from me as he fucked me, and fucked me, and fucked me.
And I gloried in every single second of it. Every movement, every thrust. Each slap of our bodies meeting, I loved. I moved with him, lifting my hips to meet his thrusts, and then he began moving even faster and I felt an orgasm building up inside me, a fourth one. I wanted it, felt it coming, and I knew it would be the most potent and powerful one yet, and I needed it, and I knew the only way to get it was to fuck him back, to fuck him harder, to take it.
And that’s what I did. I fucked him back, and I fucked him harder.
I got the orgasm. It hit me like an earthquake, ripping through me with the smashing intensity of a runaway freight train.
I screamed until I was hoarse, and that’s when I felt Baxter reach his own climax.
He began to grunt and snarl, and his movement became frantic, and his eyes closed.
“No—look at me, Bax,” I snapped. “I want to watch you.”
He lifted up and grabbed my hips in both hands, and I palmed my breasts for him, offered them to him as he fucked me to his own orgasm. He accepted my offering, burying his face between my breasts as he snarled, and his hips slammed with furious, frenzied aggression that had me shoutingYES!over and over again, in time with each thrust he gave me, because it felt so damn good and he was so beautiful, so rugged, so masculine, and him fucking me was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen, ever felt.
And then he came, andthatwas the most indelibly, unforgettably erotic moment of my entire existence.
He reared up, roared like a lion and pounded into my pussy, once, twice, three times, and then he faltered, gasping, and buried his face in my breasts once more, gasping. I threaded my fingers through his hair, and cradled the back of his head, hooking my feet around the backs of his thighs, and gasped with him.
When he lifted up, I framed his face with both hands. Emotions were running rampant through me, too many, too intense. “Bax, I—”
He didn’t shy away from the emotions I knew he saw in my eyes, on my face. “I know, Eva. Me too.”
Flopping to his back, he tugged me over so I was cradled in his arms, listening to the thunder of his heartbeat, the rough sawing of his breath. His arms were around me and this was yet another moment burned into me, onto the fabric of my mind.
Every moment with Baxter, it seemed, was going to be burned into me.
I felt all the emotions, and didn’t dare name them, because we’d agreed this had an expiration date, and those emotions didn’t fit in with that.
7
Baxter
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.
I am in so much fucking trouble.
That was…that wasn’t just fucking. And I’m in full on freak-out mode inside, because she knew it and she knew I knew it. Same thing happened with Bast, and then it happened with Zane, and then it happened with Brock…like, in fuckin’ chronological order or some shit, like this was a goddamned romance novel or something. So now, I’m supposed to believe it’s happening to me, right? I’m gonna fall for the girl, and she’s gonna fall for me, and some great mysticaldeus ex machina—yes, I do know what that is, thank you very fuckin’ much—is gonna drop down from the sky to make it so we can be together in cute little happily ever after despite all the bullshit reasons our lives don’t mix.
Yeah, fuck that.
Problem is, tell that to my heart. It’s hammering away inside my chest like I just did a bunch of wind sprints and, let me tell you, my physical conditioning is fuckin’ prime, okay? A little bit of nice hard fucking isn’t going to make my heart pound like this. Nah son, this is straight up nerves and emotions. No way am I gonna sit here and be all introspective and turn each weird-ass fuckin’ emotion over and look at it like it’s a specimen on a lab table. No, nope, nuh-uh. Not doing that. What I’m gonna do is I’m gonna bury the emotions way down deep, and then I’m gonna strip the condom off my dick and throw it away, and I’m gonna dive back into the sweet and holy promised land that is Evangeline du Maurier, and her lush, eager body.
I meanfuuuuck, the girl is a rabid tiger in the sack, man. Legit, I have never been fucked like that. Never. Shewantedthat shit and she wanted ithard. She went after it like…well, like a woman who’s been deprived of satisfying sex her whole life, who’s finally encountered a man who can give it to her properly.
I swear on my mother’s grave, if I ever come face to face with that slimy, useless, dickless, piece of shit, douchebag motherfucker Thomas Pussy-Boy Haverton, I’m going to knock his teeth so far down his skinny little neck he’ll be shitting teeth for a solid week. And that, my friends, is a Baxter Badd promise.
Because to have a woman like Evangeline in your bed and not give her as many orgasms as possible? That’s a sin. It’s a mortal sin against sex, against manhood, against all of humanity. Like, how could he have this woman, this incredible, perfect, smart, gorgeous, eager, fierce, sexy woman in his bed, and just hump her and dump her? How? How is that shit even possible? I donotget it. I just don’t.
I rolled off the bed, leaving Eva naked and—momentarily at least—sated, watching me curiously. I made sure to let her see what I was doing as I carefully pulled the rubber off, tied it up, and tossed it into the little garbage can under the sink in the kitchenette. Then I made a pit stop in the bathroom to take a leak, wash my hands, my face, and my cock, dry off, and then I went back to stand by the bed, staring down at Eva.
She blinked up at me, innocent and curious. “You wash up after each time?”
I shrugged. “Sure. Gotta stay fresh, you know? Nobody wants to be all sticky and stinky, so yeah, I wash up after each time.”
