fired my blood like nothing else could.
Her sweet tits, those milky mounds, that bright-pink flush that crested in myriad points around her fleshy body, and the bright scorch of auburn hair that swirled around her form against my navy comforter, was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen.
I’d never called someone mine before, but Aoife was.
There was no way in fuck I was letting her go now I knew she’d only ever taken my cock.
Shit like that in my world was sacred.
Virgins weren’t women you fucked and left behind. You didn’t pull a coyote ugly on them and sneak out of their bed the next day.
You put a ring on their finger.
You made them your wife, and you put your babies in their bellies.
It was nothing I’d ever expected for myself. Nothing I’d ever particularly wanted. Not until her.
Until Aoife.
When I climaxed, it was, as everything else had been, extraordinary.
I felt like I’d been punched in the side of the head—just in a good way. Sensations pulled at my nerve endings, making me realize that sex had never been this fucking epic in all my life.
As my cum boiled out of my balls and slalomed into the condom, I resented that piece of latex like nothing else in this world.
Nothing, ever again, would be between this woman and me.
That was a fucking fact.
When I finally got my breath back, when I’d stopped seeing stars, and I had feeling back where it should be, I pulled out of her tight little slit.
When she whimpered, guilt flooded me, and she curled onto her side like she was ashamed.
That made me mad, but I didn’t take it out on her.
I’d treated her like a common slut, and now it was time to make amends.
The sight of the blood on the condom was like a red rag to a bull. It would be so easy to get hard again. Just thinking of her being mine, uniquely mine, pummeled my skull.
Trying to force those thoughts away, I shucked out of my clothes quickly, my eyes on her fetal form as I headed for the bathroom, I finally turned away when I slipped inside. Running the water as I disposed of the condom, I stared down at her blood and felt like some kind of elemental tie joined me to her.
When the water was hot, I grabbed a cloth from the vanity, soaked it through, and then grabbed a towel. Seeing her on the side of the bed, listlessly dressing, had more rage swirling inside me.
“Get back on the bed. Now,” I snarled. I didn’t care that I’d made her jump, I just wanted her to obey.
I could only imagine what she was thinking, but at my bark, she did as bid.
Fuck, she got to me. I loved her like this, but I wanted the fire that was on her head as well as on her pussy to come to the fore, too.
I liked a woman bare down there. Nothing to get in the way of my teeth, lips, and tongue. But Aoife? I liked her trimmed. I wanted proof that I was fucking a genuine redhead, and my mouth watered, knowing I’d be tasting her as soon as she was ready.
“Spread your legs,” I commanded, watching as she did so with a wince.
I knew she wasn’t ready again, so did she, but she had to think I was going to use her for a second round, yet she still obeyed.
Then, as I neared, her eyes widened as she saw what was in my hands. The cloth dripped, but I didn’t care. I kneeled against the side of the bed then climbed onto it. Spreading the cloth flat out, I pressed it to her core and pushed the flexible material into each crevice of her sex I could reach.
She released a keening sound as the heat got to her, working into sore and poorly used tissues. Though I did feel guilty, I also felt hot, knowing that she was sore because of me.
Fuck, could I sound more like a Neanderthal?
In apology, I crooned to her, “Let it soothe you.”
She whimpered, but relaxed when I made no move other than to cleanse her. I kept the hot cloth there until it grew chill, then I asked, “Do you want more?”
“Another washcloth?” she replied carefully, making me laugh.
“I didn’t mean more cock.”
When her cheeks flushed, I had to laugh again. She was so easy to rile, so easy to embarrass. A part of me wondered where this woman had