Scandalous Games: Chapter 53
What’s it called? Fuck bunnies or puck bunnies. I don’t know.
Well, whatever the hell it’s called, the gist is Dash and I spent the whole weekend fucking like bunnies. On every surface. In every room. And our apartment is big. So you can imagine just how many times and ways and positions he made me come.
Does that make me a sex addict?
Apparently, there’s a difference between Dash holding back and… Not.
The man’s libido is insatiable and ever since I gave him free rein and laid my heart on my sleeve, he has become obsessed and possessed like a madman. And god! I love every second of it. Because I’ve been just as bad, unable to keep my hands off him.
He claims this is our mini honeymoon before we go on a real one.
But now, Monday is here and we have to burst our little bubble. I was tempted to play hooky and entice my husband, too, but I’ve already spent all my paid leaves from work while Dash pushed back his meetings. I’m quite shocked I was able to keep him away for so long.
Or maybe it was because I hid all his chargers again.
“I know you said you want babies at thirty,” Dash says with that mischievous glint in his eyes. “But how many are we talking, kitten?”
“Oh my god!” I groan, hiding my face, but he tugs my hand free while smiling softly.
When I push at his hard chest, he doesn’t budge. Instead, he pushes more of his weight down on my naked body. Both of us should be hurrying to get ready for work but Dash is holding me captive in our bed. Still gloriously naked and distracting me with his eight-pack abs, which I finally got to lick, and his cock teasing the inside of my thigh.
“We are still pretending I didn’t blurt that out like a fool.”
He’s unruffled. “One? Two?”
“Still pretending.”
“I bet you’ve picked their names too.”
“You do know what pretending means, right?” I mock before rolling my eyes. “I should’ve gotten you that damn dictionary.”
He laughs. The sound is so carefree and like music to my ears. A mesmerizing sight. The sunlight streaming through the open balcony makes the green in his eyes look unreal. They are such a unique shade that I always get lost in them.
I graze the crinkle around his eyes with my fingertips, loving the sight of them. My grandma always used to say that one can always tell a person has lived a happy and joyous life by their laugh lines. That every line and wrinkle have a story to tell.
It saddens me because Dash has none. His laugh lines got buried underneath a cold mask to protect what little he had. So now, I just want to make him smile and laugh as much as I can. He says he never had a family. I’ll show him that he finally does.
Me.
Us.
“I will get you to tell me one day, kitten,” he promises with a wink.
My smart-ass retort dies on my tongue when he yanks the blanket to reveal my breasts for his starving gaze. His messy hair teases my collarbone when he bends to lick my nipple lightly, leaving a wet trail as he repeats the sensual motion on my other breast. Restraining my wandering hands, he pushes them into the mattress and plays with my breasts.
Laving. Sucking. Biting.
As if he didn’t spend the entire weekend painting me with his hickeys and finger-shaped bruises, his teeth dig in with the intent to leave more knowing I’ll be wearing them the whole day as a reminder that I belong to him.
“I could feast on these tits for hours, kitten.” He grunts, scraping the sensitive tips with his teeth. I whimper and his mouth becomes rougher until I’m grinding against his hard cock. “So perfect.”
When his grip loosens around my wrist to cup them and circle the hard nubs, I snake my hand between us and wrap it around his thick shaft. He jerks in my fingers and groans loudly when I stroke from the purple crown to the base.
Our foreheads touch and breaths mingle as I stroke him again. A new wave of wetness pools between my thighs when I take in the sight of him. My fingers barely meet as he swells in my hand. It’s a miracle he even fit inside me without bruising my insides. His cock, hitting places I only thought was a myth.
“Squeeze harder,” he growls against my mouth.
I obey and watch pleasure swarm his angular face. I’m unable to look away as I stroke him faster. Precum leaks from the slit on his dick and I rub it over him. His hand palming my breast travels lower and my back bows when he plunges two fingers to the hilt in my core.
“Dash!”
Another sharp and rough thrust. “Keep stroking my dick, you little tease.”
His fingers don’t slow their punishing pace, making it harder for me to focus when all I want to do is succumb to the drugging sensations he’s effortlessly evoking in my body. I slide my hand up and down his length, using his precum as lube.
“Tell me I own this cunt,” he demands harshly.
“You do.”
“Say the words.”
“You.” His fingers thrusts. “Own.” Thrust. “My.” Thrust. “Cunt.”
With every word, he throbs and pulses in my grip, going impossibly hard like they triggered the primal male in him while bringing us both near the edge. He’s unabashedly dominating and animalistic in bed. Every time he growls a dirty command, my pussy clenches while electricity runs down every inch of me.
“Good girl.”
When he hits that secret spot again, stars dance behind my vision. Desperate to come but not without him, I tighten my fingers around his length and stroke him in tune with his ruthless fingers plunging inside me.
Nipping my bottom lip, he grunts, “Tightest fucking pussy. Needy and begging to be filled.”
“Only for you. Give me more. Fill me, Dash.”
His hips thrust in my hand while he flicks my clit in slow and teasing circles. Our bodies become sweaty while his masculine scent drugs me. The wet slapping sounds are like an illicit symphony, driving and urging us higher. So close.
“Fuck. Come with me, kitten.”
“I ne-need,” I stutter. The ache, rising to a painfully high degree but I can’t fall over the edge. Sensing my body’s need better than my own, Dash slams his fingers against the same spot over and over.
“Give it to me,” Dash growls. “Come on my fingers like my filthy little whore.”
I scream when he ends his dirty praise with a stinging slap to my pussy. My orgasm barrels down and I feel it on every inch of my shuddering body.
Through my fog of lust and heaven, I hear his own roar of pleasure before I feel his white hot cum splatter on my pussy. His palm makes a wet sound as he jerks his cock, spilling every drop on my skin.
A beast marking his mate.
His body drops on mine and I bask in the weight of him. His rapid heartbeat while our slick bodies come down from the mutual high. His harsh breathing slows down while placing lazy kisses over my collarbone.
I trace his muscular back before traveling up to his hair.
He inches his head up, kissing my mouth.
Running my fingers through his unruly hair that falls over his forehead, I smile and whisper, “I kinda miss your short hair.”
His lips quirk, not expecting it. “I thought you didn’t pay attention to me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Liar.”
“Shut up.”
My heart melts when he doesn’t hold back a silky laugh. He becomes strikingly handsome when he does it.
“So you did like at least one thing about me.”
“Fine. I did. You looked extremely hot. Broody. Intense.” He arches one eyebrow playfully, as if to say, ‘do I not find him attractive now?’ I slap his chest and murmur, “You are all those either way. Happy now, husband?”
His gaze becomes feral at my endearment. I read his sinful intentions and just as his fingers aim for my waist, I slip out from underneath him. I cock my hip while lifting my chin at him. “You’re not making me late for work.”
Leaning on his forearm while those chiseled abs tighten deliciously, his hooded eyes roam over my naked form as I stand near the bed. I can’t hide the way my traitorous nipples harden under his attention and when he licks his bottom lip, I tremble as though he’s caressed me.
“Stop that,” I grumble.
He innocently says, “Stop what?”
I roll my eyes, barely resisting to fall for his sensual charms and walk toward the bathroom. Without turning around, I warn, “You better be up after I’m done showering.”
I’m in the air a second later with his arm spanning my waist and he bites my earlobe before playfully growling, “Are you bossing me, kitten?”
“Yes.” He swats my ass and I yelp. “Hey!”
“Here’s an order for you, wifey,” he says, trailing kisses down my neck before enclosing us in the bathroom. “You’re never taking a shower without me.”
“Fuck. We’re never going to be on time for work, are we?”
“Good thing I’m your boss for the day.”