Chapter 258: Wreck Me, Daddy
(SASHA)
I smear his hole with slick and slap the rest on myself. There’s not enough of it. I haven’t fucked him for weeks—months—and I worry that I’ll hurt him, that he’ll be out of practice, but the second I get my cockhead into his ass, feel his ring around me, tight but welcoming, all my anxieties go up in a puff of smoke, incinerated as my fire for him rages out of control.
"Fuck." I’m the one who curses, and I keep cursing, hissing out words as I shove my way into him inch by inch—Christ, fuck, fuck, Tyler, oh fuck—as though I’m the one having a dick crammed into my ass with minimal prep in a reeking Roman back alley. He feels unyielding all the way in until he isn’t, suddenly, his body giving way, and I swear to God I can feel his soul opening up to me along with his gut.
Tyler is hiking up his hips, forced up on his toes, his jaw clenched tight against my profane lips, his ass clamping down on me. I let out a shaky breath of relief. Finally. He makes his first noise since I started pushing into him: a whimper.
It’s fuel to my fire. I open my mouth wide to bite at the side of his neck, pull his head back, force him to expose his throat as though I’m about to cut it, spray his life all over the wooden door I’m fucking him against. But I don’t want to kill.
I only want to fuck.
The need is burning through me, fizzing under my skin, the need to rut into him, but I’m still waiting for him to adjust, for the tension in his body to lessen, just a little. I get one hand on his cock and coax it back into full hardness. His throat muscles bounce under my other hand as he swallows and gets his breath back, and when I press my lips back to the side of his neck, I feel his pulse, fluttering like a new butterfly.
He says something, hoarse and gravelly, and I release his throat, letting him try again. "Wreck me," he whispers into the door. His hand finds mine on his junk, pushes it aside, and takes over jacking his cock. "Like you promised. Come on," he growls at me.
I grab the back of his neck, squeezing hard, and force his face against the door. And then I drill into him, making his ass shake with the force of it. His eyes are screwed shut, his mouth pulled into a grimace, but when I reach around to check, his dick is dripping like a tap, his hand flying over it.
Slap me around a little, he asked before we started, so I crack my hand down hard on his asscheek, and he jerks. The noise reverberates through the alleyway. I spank him again, then grab the meat of his ass and squeeze it hard until he whines a protest.