Pleasure so great it fucking hurt. A beautiful kind of pain I never wanted to stop feeling.
“Fuck,” Preppy groaned, pulling his lips from mine to look down to where we were connected. He pulled out slightly only to surge back in. Harder. Deeper. “Goddamn it, Dre. So fucking good. Every fucking time.” He pulled back again and pushed his hips forward, mumbling swears while he repeated this motion until he fully seated himself inside me. The sweet stretching sensation caused my inner walls to tighten around his shaft. We both gasped at the sensation.
The cut on his chest hadn’t stopped bleeding, only now the blood started dripping off his nipple onto my stomach. The friction of our bodies rubbing against one another loosened the bandage on my thigh, smearing fresh pink against Preppy’s hands and forearms as he used my body as leverage. His own blood dripped steadily from his nipple with each hard thrust, splattering against my breasts, painting my pale skin in a tattoo of red swirls and smears.
We didn’t stop.
We couldn’t stop.
Shit, a train could’ve derailed and careened through the fucking window, and we still would have kept going. Maybe because in a way, Preppy and I were our own train. And if we were going to derail, we were going to do it together, connected, with each other’s names on our lips.
His thrusts became even more powerful. More demanding.
So did his words.
“You’re never leaving me. Say it. You’re never fucking leaving me,” Preppy ground out.
I wanted to say the words back, but I was literally being fucked senseless. I began to see stars. Brief flashes of white light as he fucked the words into my heart the same way he was fucking my pussy.
Passionate. Relentless. Rough. Frenzied.
We were all of that and more.
So much more.
Preppy pushed my arms up over my head and held my wrists together as he brutally pounded me with his monster cock. Over and over again he punished me and pleasured me. Keeping me on the brink of ecstasy.
I barely registered the pain shooting from my lower back when I lifted my hips to meet his strokes. Our fucking had become wild and reckless. Any sort of rhythm fell by the wayside as we raced down a path where only primal, raw FUCKING would do.
Faster and faster he fucked me. Each push in and pull out resulted in an excruciating amount of pure pleasure coursing through me. I screamed out his name when it became too much and not enough all at the same time. “Preppy. Preppy!” With each use of his name, my cries became louder and louder until I was sure I was screaming in his ear.
“Don’t ever fucking leave me!” Preppy repeated. “Look at me, Doc, watch me come for you.”
As if I could tear my eyes away from him. There was a beauty in the way the cords of his neck tightened. The way his teeth gnashed together. There was a beauty in him.
Preppy’s cock throbbed inside me, and I moaned long and loud as he stroked the sensitive spot on the front side of my inner walls over and over again. His lips parted. The muscles in his shoulders and biceps strained. Sweat beaded on his forehead, running from his temple down the colorful tattoos adorning his neck.
He kept his gaze locked on mine and didn’t so much as blink as he came, groaning my name through his release, spurting hot streams of his release within me. Making me his all over again.
I opened my mouth to try and tell him the words he’d wanted to hear, that I was never going to leave, but I couldn’t because his final thrust triggered my own orgasm, interrupting any coherent thoughts I might have had, sending me into a twisting tailspin of pure pleasure.
I arched my back off the bed, dug my fingers into Preppy’s perfect ass, and shamelessly ground myself against him, riding out the jolts of blinding bliss that left me shaking from the magnitude and force of which I came.
When I could focus again, I opened my eyes and noticed Preppy’s head resting against my chest. His arms around my waist. I ran my hand through his hair and down the side of his face and was surprised when I felt wetness on my fingertips.
Preppy glanced up at me, a tear stain on his one cheek, the blood from my chest smeared across the other.
I coughed when my heart skipped a beat, shocked by an electrical jolt of awareness and emotion. I grabbed his face in my hands and finally responded to his earlier demand. “Samuel Clearwater, I promise I’ll never leave you,” I whispered, my voice as shaky as my limbs. “I love you.”
Preppy closed his eyes. A lazy, satisfied smile appeared on his face. He dropped his head back onto my chest. “Love doesn’t even begin to cover it, Doc,” Preppy said, followed by a yawn.
My heart swelled in my chest. I smiled dreamily and continued to run my hands through Preppy’s hair until we both drifted off.
We slept late into the morning and would have slept even later if we hadn’t been woken up by the sound of a gun blast.
CHAPTER FOUR
Preppy
“Shit!” Dre shouted, leaping from the bed.
I was thrown from her body, which I was using as the most comfortable pillow I’d ever had the pleasure of sleeping on, falling ungracefully to the floor in a flailing pile of my own naked limbs. “You want it rough, baby you got it,” I mumbled, still half asleep.
“What?” Dre asked.
I opened my eyes and found myself staring into my woman’s beautiful dark gaze, which looked very confused. “What exactly is going on? You trying to beat me up in my sleep? ‘Cause that hardly seems fair,” I said groggily, rubbing my eyes and appreciating the fact that Dre was crouched on the floor naked, her pert little ass in the air, still covered in streaks of blood which were now dry. A beautiful reminder of how we’d spent our time before passing out from exhaustion.
“I think someone’s firing out there,” Dre whispered, crouching down behind the bed next to me. A familiar boom came from outside the window. “See! That sound. There it is again.”
“Nobody’s firing at us,” I said, pulling my woman across my lap. I stood up, dragged her up with me. I positioned her so she could see out of the window down to the driveway below where the very old brown beater I expected to see came rolling up the driveway. The booming sounded again, this time a small poof of fire and smoke from the exhaust pipe accompanied it.
Dre’s shoulders instantly relaxed. “Who is that?” she asked, standing on her tiptoes to get a better look.
I stood behind her admiring her ass and shapely legs. Realizing I hadn’t answered her she went to turn around to face me, but I pinned her in place, wrapping my arms around her waist and settling my chin on her shoulder. I pointed to the driver’s side door, which had just opened. “That,” I said. “Is called a piece of shit car.” Kevin got out and lit a cigarette. “And that, as you already know, is my little brother.”
“Why is he here?”
“I called him. He’s been hinting about wanting to work for me,” I told her. “So I told him to meet me here.”