Page 61 of Vandal Unbound

Even as my thighs clench together in anticipation, I worry about the practicalities of taking a man this big. He grabs a condom from the pocket of his cut and rolls it on his thick length before climbing onto the bed.

He sits on the other side, his back against the pillows, then tugs me back over his lap. “I liked the feel of you like this earlier.”

I’m split wide over his solid thighs, his cock brushing against me. “You’re very big,” I admit.

He smiles as his eyes follow the finger that I’m currently coiling my curls around. “Why, thank you, Daze.”

For a heartbeat, I see a flicker of the man he was, the man he wants to return to. And I wish with my whole heart that I could turn back the clock for him.

He reaches between us, holding his cock to my opening, and I lower myself, gasping as his head breaches my lips.

His hands sneak by my ribs, up my back, and hook over my shoulders. In this position, he takes over guiding both me and the pace. Encouraging me to accept more of him, stretching me.

It’s not exactly gentle, but it’s edged with something I need.

There’s an urgency to it.

It’s a miracle I can accept him, or a testament to just how much I enjoyed his mouth on me given how wet I am.

“Fuck, Daze, you were made for me.”

His words build my confidence as I press against his hands and lift myself higher before seating myself farther. His hands make sure I stay close to him, our bodies sliding against each other.

He contorts his frame so he can lift my sleep tank top off and suck my nipple into his mouth. His eyes meet mine, and I hope he sees as much pleasure in my eyes as I see in his.

Suddenly, I’m utterly lost to him.

Nothing else matters.

Just the two of us and this.

His mouth runs over my chest, my collarbone, my neck.

When his mouth reaches mine, he doesn’t kiss me. He stays there, a millimeter away, breathing my air until I’m seated fully, and his eyes roll back in his head.

“Fuck, yes, Daisy,” he says through clenched teeth. “Stay there for a second.”

I do as he says, even as my pussy clenches in anticipation and his cock throbs like a pulse.

Then he scoops both hands beneath my hair, folding his fingers behind my head, and kisses me like he’s a starving man and I’m the only thing on this earth that can satiate him.

It’s messy, hard to breathe at times, but Vandal doesn’t let go of me. I roll my hips against him, a deep and slow grind given I’m being held too tightly to ride him. My clit aches after the punishment his tongue delivered and force with which he sucked on it. But beneath the pain is another orgasm just out of reach.

My toes curl, and I groan in frustration as he keeps me pinned to him. The more I try to move, the tighter he holds me.

“Still,” he commands before kissing me again, and my body betrays me by doing exactly what he says.

Pent-up need rolls through me. It’s existential. Like being edged, but not. Worse. I’m stuck right here. My arousal’s not fluctuating.

I sit right on the pinnacle.

“Next time I move,” Vandal says against my lips, “I’m gonna try and make love to you.”

“Try?” I ask, confused.

“It’s been a while for me, Daze. Since before the accident. Jerked off in my hand once. So, while I’m wanting to be kind and gentle, there’s a roar in my head telling me to fuck that cunt of yours into the mattress. So, yeah. I’m gonna try.”

Every part of me tightens at his delicious warning.