59. Tessa

59

Tessa

C in smells faintly of chlorine and pine. His russet hair is still damp from the shower and it curls over the back of his neck. My fingers thread through the strands as he looms over me, his eyes full of dark promises.

I'm trying to push his confession out of my head. The thought of some older woman preying on a young teenage boy is disgusting. Maybe he was precocious for his age - and likely beautiful, too - but he was still a child. How can any woman think it's OK to seduce a 14-year-old?

Cin senses my mind has wandered to a dark place. He leans down and brushes his lips across mine.

"Hey, come back to me, sweetness."

I focus on his face, soaking in his cerulean eyes, stubbly jaw, and lush mouth. He's way out of my league. A fallen angel sent to corrupt me. But he's here, in my bed, and I plan to make the most of it. We have a few hours at best. Maybe a lot less if one of the kids wakes up.

"I'm here." Dwelling on the past is pointless. I need to stay present.

"Good." He rolls his hips, making me groan softly when his erection presses against my needy clit. "Are you ready for your massage?" he asks with a smirk, taking a moment to nibble the soft skin just below my ear.

"God, yes." I'm not sure how relaxing it will be, but I'm here for it.

"Don't move." Before I can protest, he moves off me and disappears into the bathroom, returning a few seconds later with a bottle of vanilla body lotion. It's a cheap brand from a discount store, but I like the scent. He drops the bottle on the bed and pulls my cami top off.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because this will feel better if you focus on what you can feel rather than what you can see."

I pout. "But I like looking at you."

"Trust me," he says with a smirk, and I do as I'm told.

"Good girl." Like always, those two innocuous little words send heat flooding between my legs and I shiver with delight. It's an affront to feminism that being praised by a man feels so deliciously good, but I can't help it. Apparently, I have a praise kink. So sue me.

Cin's right. With my eyes closed, my other senses kick up a notch. The sensation of cool lotion and warm hands on my breasts is exquisite, and my nipples instantly pucker into hard nubs.

He massages my tits, stroking my aching flesh and, every so often, pinching my nipples hard enough to make me squeak. It's torturous and not at all relaxing. I want more. So much more.

"Cin," I whine, "Please!" My panties are probably soaked. But he's unmoved. Instead of relenting and moving lower, where I need him, he carries on stroking and caressing my breasts while I'm pinned beneath his thighs.

Just as I think I can't take any more teasing, I feel his mouth, hot and wet, envelop my nipple. He sucks hard and then bites me. To my surprise, I come instantly, my whole body convulsing with pleasure. If my shorts weren't soaked before, they are now.

I'm still shaking when he tugs my shorts off, pushes my thighs apart, and feasts on me like a starving man. He parts my folds and impales me with his tongue, lapping up my juices.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he moans. It sounds like he's enjoying this almost as much as me. My eyes are still closed, but the temptation to open them is strong. Cin must read my mind, for he looks up and says, "Keep them closed! No cheating!" Then he laughs when I growl in frustration.

I almost cry when he pulls away and for a horrible moment, I wonder if he's walked away and left me, but then I hear the rustle of clothing and feel his hands on my hips as he spins me over onto my front.

Picking me up like I weigh nothing, he places me on my knees with my ass in the air. It's a vulnerable position and I feel very exposed. I've spent much of my adult life believing my ass is too big, but Cin seems to like it, so I shove my insecurities down and focus on what I can feel and hear.

His big hands caress my butt cheeks and I moan softly when his thumbs brush across my swollen pussy.

"I can't wait to fill all your holes with my dick," he tells me, almost conversationally, before running his finger across my puckered opening. I shiver. Anal sex isn't something I've done very often, which makes me surprisingly vanilla for a woman my age. I have a feeling Cin is about to change that, but as I tense up at the thought of anything bigger than a finger penetrating me there, he moves lower.

"Oh baby," he murmurs, sounding pleased. "You're so fucking wet for me." When he arches over my body, I can feel his hard dick press against my ass, naked and ready for me.

"Please," I whine, "I need you!"

There's a faint huff of laughter followed by a soft groan when his tip nudges my entrance. Cin's a big guy, but I'm so wet and ready for him that he slides in without resistance. His hands find my tits and I moan softly, pushing back against him.

The feel of him stretching me is both delicious and ever so slightly painful. For a few moments, he doesn't move, and from his harsh breathing, he's struggling to maintain control.

My eyes are still closed. All of my senses focus on how he feels: achingly hard and smooth like velvet.

"Fuck," he breathes, "I'm about ready to blow! You're so fucking tight, sweetness. So hot and wet. I want to stay like this forever, buried inside your sweet cunt."

"That would make the school run awkward," I joke, and he chuckles.

"Hold on, baby, I need to go fast and hard." His hands move to my hips and grip my flesh tight enough to bruise. Before I can protest, he pulls back out until only the tip remains inside me before thrusting back inside so hard I'm pushed forward.

I bite my lip, relishing the metallic taste of blood as he pounds in and out, grunting with each thrust.

Cin isn't making love to me. This is a claiming. He's systematically destroying me for all other men. The thought of having sex with some generic Chad or Brad is no longer an option. I'm fucked for all eternity.

When Cin's hand leaves my hip and finds my clit, I'm gone, coming so hard I lose all sense of time and place as pleasure washes over me.