He grinds his fingers into my scalp, sucking in his bottom lip as I suck his cock. I obey the pressure from his hand, taking him in as deeply as I can. My tongue glides underneath his length. Then his hips thrust into my mouth, slowly at first. Lines of saliva dribble down my chin as he picks up the pace, his balls crushing against me. An explosive moan rips from his chest. He pulls out, lets me breathe, and then he pushes between my lips.
“Olivia,” he says, rapidly losing control. “I’m going to come. And you’re going to take it.”
Never in my life have I ever had a man’s cum in my mouth.
A desire I never knew I had pounds through my whole being, wanting every drop of him inside my mouth. I want him to lose every ounce of self-control. I want to feel taken, because the man I thought I loved fucked someone else.
My lips form a tight seal around his length, moving over his bulbous head as my tongue plays in circles. He fists my hair, yanking on me with some kind of primal instinct to fuck me as deeply as possible. I’m on my knees, being face-fucked by a near stranger, and I’ve never felt so alive.
Another groan bursts from his mouth, his shoulders rolling as his cock anchors inside me. I gag, but he brings me close, pulling back an inch to thrust again. Then I feel the swell, and the sudden burst of liquid warmth coating my tongue. He keeps releasing rough grunts as he empties every last drop in the back of my mouth. I swallow him down as he holds my head still, and then finally he pulls out.
He yanks me to my feet, his cock bruising my thigh as he crushes my body against his. I gasp into his mouth as his lips crash against mine. He doesn’t give a damn about how dirty it is. No, he’s a real man. And then suddenly the thought of a lover cringing at the taste of his own semen is laughable.
He breaks the kiss, my blood galloping fast. “We’re not done. Turn around. Hands against the wall. I’m going to fuck that pussy raw.”
He spins me around. I catch myself against the wall. Then my pussy clenches when I hear the sound of Gage ripping open a condom. Seconds later, his thighs touch the backs of mine, and his cock pushes into the pounding ache—
“OPEN THE DOOR!”
A fist rams against my door, making me spring upright. Gage doesn’t move from his position. Doesn’t show that he heard anything at all but a slight tightening of his fingers.
“Olivia? WE NEED TO TALK! Open up, now!”
“Oh my God,” I moan as I recognize the voice.
Gage pulls me back, snarling. “I don’t give a fuck if it’s Jesus himself. We’re not done.”
“He’s not going to go away!”
I jump in Gage’s arms as the pounding intensifies. Damn, is he throwing his whole body against the door? Gage releases me with a vicious snarl, looking very much like an untamed beast as he snatches his jeans from the floor. He makes a painful face as he stuffs himself back inside.
I run to the bed, grabbing the pajama bottoms and the t-shirt I slept in, pulling them on. My wet hair is in tangles on my head, but Gage doesn’t seem to give a fuck about putting on any airs. I throw my arm across his chest before he can answer the door.
“Let me answer it!”
He looks at my arm as though tempted to throw it off. “Fine. But if he’s not gone after five seconds, I’m kicking him out.”
Gage stands behind, not quite out of sight. I block the entry with my body as I wrench open the door.
Mark wears khaki pants, a navy-blue double-breasted jacket, and saddle shoes. He looks like he’s off to a boarding school convention. The most alarming part of his appearance is his beard. He forgot to shave. He never forgets.
“You’re here. Again.”
“Olivia, what’s this I hear about you getting married? Tell me this redneck town is just fucking with me and you didn’t actually marry that loser at the garage.”
“If he’s a loser, what does that make you? Oh, that’s right. A cheating ex-bastard. Complete and utter scum. Pond-dweller. Take your pick.”
He throws his hands in the air. “I apologize. Jesus, people make mistakes!”
“I do not accept your apology.”
The concept seems utterly foreign to him. “But I said sorry!”