Page 178 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
“I’d love to meet them,” he says.
“Really?” I ask.
“Really.”
“Okay, yeah, that would be... that would be great.” I smile at him. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” He kisses my knuckles again. “It’s getting late. We should get everything into your cottage so I can go clean the couch.”
“Probably smart,” I say.
He opens his door and tugs me in his direction. “Come this way.”
I follow him out his side of the truck, and he picks me up by the waist and brings me to the porch, where I unlock the door. I’m about to ask him if he needs help with the battery, but he closes the door behind him and then tears his long-sleeved shirt over his head.
My sweatshirt is next, and then I’m pushed up against the door and his mouth is on mine.
Immediately, I melt into his grasp, moving my hands up his chest and to his neck. He lifts me up and plasters me against the door, where he pushes his already hard erection against me.
“Fuck, I need to finish what we started,” he says. “But we have to be quick.”
That won’t be a problem. Just from kissing him, I’m already turned on.
He massages my breasts, his mouth trailing from my lips to my jaw, to my neck and back up, marking me with his scruff, completely unhinged and taking everything he wants.
It’s immediate, the way that I light up with him, the way that I grow wet, the way that I need him inside me.
“Chair,” I say, breathless.
He pulls me away from the door and sets me down. I grab the single chair I have in the corner and put it behind him before stripping out of my clothes. He does the same, and then I push him back on the chair and straddle his lap.
His fingers glide between us and right over my arousal. “You’re so fucking ready for me.”
“I am,” I say as I lift up and he positions his cock.
“Take me, Betty. Fucking take every goddamn inch.”
I slowly lower over him, allowing him to feel me inch by inch and watching as his neck strains and he bites down on his lip, trying to hold on to whatever control he has left.
When I’m fully seated, I take a few deep breaths, because no matter how many times he’s been inside me, nothing prepares me for the way it feels to be this full.
“Jesus, Betty,” he says, his hands falling to my hips. “I fucking love being inside you.”
“I... God, your cock.” My head falls back, and his lips find my neck, kissing, sucking, leaving his mark as I rotate my hips, allowing him to stretch me and press into places that no other man has been able to touch.
“I need more. Fuck me, Betty. Fuck me.”
I place my hands on his shoulders and use him as leverage while I start bouncing up and down on him.
“Fuck yes,” he says, his eyes on me. “Let me see you come.”
I bite down on the corner of my lip and continue to move up and down, him helping me, both of us moaning, both of us seeking pleasure. But it doesn’t... it doesn’t feel like enough.
“More, Atlas.”
Grunting, he lifts us up and carries me to the couch, where he bends me over the back. He pushes down on me, then wraps his hand around my hair and tugs my neck back as he enters me from behind.
“Oh my God,” I say just before he spanks my right butt cheek. “Oh fuck,” I yell. And he does it again.
