(MY BOYFRIEND'S STEPFATHER) 5

JENNA 

I came. Noisy, breathless, and completely unhinged. 

My body bent against his hand as the orgasm coursed through me, messy and overwhelming, with Tyler's mouth still pressed against mine as if claiming every moan that came out of me.  

He didn't stop. His fingers remained buried inside me, making me tremble. My thighs shook. My lips, wet and bruised, parted in surprise. 

Fuck.

I had just come using my boyfriend's stepfather's fingers.

And the worst part? I wanted more. 

Tyler stepped back, just enough to see my face. His thumb brushed against my lower lip again, as if he enjoyed how it trembled under his touch.

"That's it, Jenna. You're fucking beautiful when you come," he murmured, his voice low and satisfied. 

I blinked slowly, my pulse still racing. "This can't happen again," I whispered, though my voice lacked conviction. 

He smiled. A knowing smile. "You'll beg him again, darling. We both know it, don't lie to yourself."

He was always right. 

I glanced down at the enormous bulge between his thighs. It was so long and hard it made my mouth water. I wanted to suck it. I wanted to feel it inside me.

Damn, Jenna.

I looked up at him and opened my mouth to argue, but he had already taken a step back. The space between us filled with coldness and guilt. 

I searched for my robe, what was left of it, and zipped it up over my now hypersensitive skin. My thighs were still damp. My belly was still throbbing.

He turned his back on me and went to the sink, rinsing his hands as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just brought me to orgasm with his fingers.

"Go back to bed," he said without looking at me. "Unless you want me to bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless."

My breath caught in my throat. My core tensed.

I wanted to challenge him.

I wanted him to do it.

Instead, I remained silent until she left the kitchen and went back to my room.

Back in my room, I collapsed onto the bed, but sleep still eluded me.

Not after what had just happened.

Not with the way I could still feel his fingers buried inside me, the way his breath kissed my neck, the way he growled my name as if I belonged to him. As if I belonged to him.

My thighs were still damp. My body? Aching. Hungry.

I turned sideways, my eyes wide open in the darkness, my skin burning with desire.

No man had ever touched me the way Tyler did. Not even Bell. Bell touched me like he was afraid of breaking me. No one had ever taken me like that, so greedily, so shamelessly, like he didn't just want to fuck me... he wanted to own me.

And damn, I wanted to be his.

I bit my lower lip hard. Then I sat up. My breathing was shallow. My nipples, tense peaks beneath my silk robe. My cunt, throbbing again, angry that he had left it unsatisfied.

I couldn't erase the image of his bulge. The sensation of its hardness and length against me.

Damn it, I can't. I can't stand it. 

I wanted Tyler's cock. Every inch of it, inside me.

I threw off the covers and left the room. The hallway was dark, but I didn't hesitate. I walked straight to his door. My heart was pounding. My body felt like it was melting.

The door was open. 

I didn't knock. I pushed past her and went inside.

He was lying in bed, the sheets pulled down to his waist, shirtless, his chest rising and falling slowly. His eyes were already fixed on me, as if he'd been waiting for me. As if he knew I was coming.

"Did you already miss me?" His voice was deep, rough with sin.

I didn't answer. I went inside and closed the door behind me. The click sounded like a gunshot.

His eyes scanned me from head to toe. My robe was open, my breasts were bare, my thighs were bare. I wasn't wearing panties.

"Did you come here like this?" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

I nodded, ashamed that I'd agreed with her. "I couldn't stop thinking about it," I whispered.

He threw off the sheets and sat up. His body was a damn work of art. Muscles, veins, sculpting his chest and those abs that begged to be licked. Still wrapped in a towel, his member was already hard and thick.

"Get in bed, now," he growled.

My knees almost buckled. I obeyed without a word, crawling to the bed and positioning myself on top of him.

He lunged at me, and in an instant, I found myself beneath him. Immobilized.

His mouth crashed against mine, dominant, hungry, rough, and wet. His hands roamed my body, caressing my breasts, his thumbs brushing against my nipples until I cried out into his mouth.

"You came to me like a good little whore," he growled. "Now I'm going to fuck you like one."

Me quitó la bata de un solo movimiento. Sus ojos me devoraban, con el pecho agitado. «Joder, qué hermosa», murmuró, antes de cerrar los labios sobre mi pezón y chuparlo con fuerza. Me arqueé hacia él, gimiendo, con los dedos enredados en su cabello.

Su boca bajó más. Sus besos se convirtieron en mordiscos apasionados y posesivos. Se deslizó entre mis muslos y no esperó.

Su lengua se sumergió en mis pliegues empapados como si estuviera hambriento. Gimió contra mi coño, chupando, lamiendo y follándome con su lengua y sus labios. Mi cuerpo estaba en llamas. Me retorcí debajo de él.

«¡Oh, Dios, Tyler!».

Me lamió como si estuviera poseído. Desordenado. Mojado. Sin piedad. Mi clítoris palpitaba contra su lengua, cada caricia más fuerte, cada lametón más áspero. Me retorcí salvajemente.

«Quiero sentir cómo te corres en mi cara», gruñó, «gotea en mi lengua como la pequeña guarra que eres».

Me derrumbé.

Mis muslos se cerraron alrededor de su cabeza. Mis gritos resonaron en la habitación. Me corrí para él, me derramé en su boca y él gimió como si fuera lo mejor que había probado nunca.

Luego se apartó, con la barbilla reluciente, y agarró su polla.

«¿Quieres esto?», preguntó, acariciándose lentamente.

«Sí», jadeé. «Por favor...».

«Dilo», exigió. «Di lo que quieres, cariño».

«Quiero tu polla», balbuceé. «Quiero que me folles. Lléname. Destrúyeme. Por favor, papi».

Esa palabra lo hizo estallar. 

Su polla se irguió cuando se quitó la toalla. Era enorme, venosa, gruesa y cubierta de abundante líquido preseminal.

Me agarró por los muslos, me empujó hacia él, se frotó contra mi humedad y se introdujo en mí.

Grité.

Me llenó con una brutal y perfecta embestida. Gruesa, profunda, estirándome hasta el límite. Arqueé la espalda, mi cuerpo ardía, las lágrimas me quemaban los ojos.

Era jodidamente enorme.

No me dio tiempo a adaptarme. Simplemente me folló.

Rápido. Profundo. Fuerte.

La cama crujía. El sonido de nuestro sexo, piel con piel, llenaba la habitación, húmedo y erótico. Nuestros gemidos seguían cada embestida.

«¿Lo sientes?», gruñó en mi oído. «Estás hecha para recibir esta polla».

«Sí, papi, fóllame, no pares».

«Ahora eres mía, Jenna. No me importa de quién fueras. Me perteneces».

Mis uñas le arañaron la espalda. Mis paredes se estremecieron a su alrededor, listas para romperse de nuevo.

«Córrete otra vez para mí, cariño. Córrete sobre mi polla, deja que papi lo sienta».

Mi cuerpo obedeció antes de que mi cerebro pudiera hacerlo. Mi clímax me golpeó como una ola que se estrellaba contra mi alma. Grité en su cuello, mordiéndole, sollozando, temblando.

Y él me folló durante todo el orgasmo, implacable, gruñendo en mi oído: «Buena chica. Tómalo, joder».

Me folló con fuerza. Perdido en el furioso celo. Dios. Follaba tan bien... 

«Voy a correrme dentro de ti, Jenna. Y voy a follarte duro, otra vez». Gruñó, con la voz cargada de lujuria.

Un sonido gutural se escapó de sus labios y se corrió. Fuerte y profundo. Su gruesa polla palpitaba mientras eyaculaba gruesas y calientes corridas dentro de mí. Gimió y siguió bombeándome durante su eyaculación, como si yo le hubiera arrancado el placer. 

Estaba llena y mojada con nuestro semen, y él seguía duro dentro de mí. Bajó la mirada hacia donde nuestros sexos se unían y luego me miró a los ojos. 

«Te siento tan bien, cariño», murmuró y estrelló sus labios contra los míos. Lento y húmedo.

Sentí cómo se hinchaba dentro de mí y, sin previo aviso, me tomó de nuevo. Con fuerza. Rápido y

sin piedad.

Y me encantó, joder.