Content Advisory: the below may contain graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.
cover art by Valerie Tibbs
“Would you quit cutting me off?” he barked at her. She closed her mouth. Those delicious plump lips curled into a half snarl, but he’d gotten her to shut up for five seconds, so he claimed it as a small victory. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for us to do this.”
“So you do want me?” Her lip quivered as she taunted him, those mesmerizing, golden brown eyes glaring at him with such passion and rage. All five foot five of her stood in elegant, defiant nudity before him. It was surreal.
“Maybe I do.”
“But you won’t have me?”
“No.”
“Because you’re afraid of me.” Her words were not presented as a question. It was a statement, a challenge.
“What the fuck?”
“You bang those pretty little tarts at port, knowing you can run away back to the ship when you’ve had your fill --”
“Hey, don’t even bring them into this. They aren’t anything like you. This is completely different.”
“But I scare you to death because I’m a real woman, and you can’t handle it. And there would be nowhere to run and hide.”
“Handle it? Hide?” His blood was boiling now, and he shot her a glare, complete with flaring nostrils. “You think I can’t handle you?”
Her arms drifted down, hands inward, motioning to her heavenly body, and she nodded in further emphasis. “You can’t handle a real woman. You’re afraid you couldn’t please me like those little girls who trip over each other just to suck your cock.”
“I’m afraid of no one,” he bellowed furiously.
“Bullshit.”
“I’d fuck you into next week, princess!”
“Hah!” Her chin lifted at the retort, her hands closing into fists on her hips. Defiantly mocking him.
That’s it.
Steve lunged forward and grabbed her, slamming her body to his and seized her lips viciously. Like a battering ram, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, finding hers and hammered it. He’d show her what a real man would do to a woman like her.
The tight rubber suit had become intolerable. It had somehow shrunk three sizes and was now unbearably hot. His cock strained against the inseam, desperate to teach her a lesson in humility. She wasn’t backing off, but he would’ve never expected her to. She liked to fight.
Grabbing her perfectly rounded butt, he kneaded the muscular cheeks as she tugged at the zipper of his suit. As cool air entered, his relief was immediate, and he dropped her. Together they tore his suit away and piled it at their feet until they were both naked.
Pulling her into his arms once more, he captured her mouth and kissed her with furious want, uncaring how it might feel for her. She’d built this need in him, and he was going to relieve it however he damn well pleased. He slashed at her tongue with his and grabbed her hand. He shoved it to his cock, and she obediently took it into her grasp.
Her fingers were long and slender like the rest of her and felt so incredible wrapped around his erection. He bucked his hips, driving himself through her fist, fucking it, and she responded with a counterstroke.
Fiery pleasure shot through him, filling him with blissful warmth. Her kisses matched his, frantic, desperate, demanding as he slid himself up and down through her grasp. She met each and every thrust with her crushing grip.
He growled into her mouth. Too good. She was going to make him come. She was trying to prove her point. Not in a million years. This was one competition he refused to lose. If she wanted to be treated like those saucy little barflies he banged to take the edge off the long weeks at sea, so be it.
His snaked his fingers into her long, luscious black hair and curled it around his fist, then spun her about face. He shoved her toward the only cot in the small station and steered her until she was kneeling on its edge, ass aimed right at him. The sight of her smoky-colored, glistening folds was breathtaking.
Her brilliant brown eyes glared defiantly back at him, but she slid her knees out wide. Tossing the handful of hair aside, he grabbed her firm buttocks roughly, using them as handles. Growling, he lurched forward, impaling her slippery, tight pussy. Sparks of quivering pleasure arced along his cock as he stuffed ever inch of himself into her silky, snug depth.
So fucking good.
She cried out in Spanish, and he didn’t understand a word of it, but he knew it for the exclamation of ecstasy it was. There was a lot more gratification to come, and taking her all the way was going to be absolutely glorious.
Handle you? Damn straight, babe. But can you handle this?
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© 2011 Brindle Chase. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.
