Page 74 of Making His Bones

What a huge delight rubbing our nipples together! Without thinking, I bent and plastered my mouth over one of his. He instantly groaned like an audio clip of a man going over a cliff, so I kept on. I tickled it with the tip of my tongue, and I laved it with the flat. He squirmed so badly I had to chase him down with my mouth. Being sly, I switched to his other nipple. I’d never noticed men were so sensitive there! I held him tight by his trim waist as I took intense pleasure in, well, torturing him.

He didn’t stay still for long. Pushing his hand against my forehead, he detached me from his torso and laid me on the carpet. “Elektra,” he murmured, kissing everywhere on my face but my mouth, “you are a fine smoke show, and now you’re mine.”

His? Because I’d agreed to marry him? What did he—oh!

Now he was at my chest slurping up a nipple. His palms cupped and slightly squeezed so my tits stuck up proud and mountainous—my personal favorite feature. His erection through his khakis humped my thigh as he slurped and swirled his tongue around my nips, sending rushes of longing straight to my cunt. My inner muscles contracted as though I were coming, and a trickle of juice ran down my butt crack.

I was ready.

I scrabbled at his belt. I wanted to rub my face all over his warm, velvety skin—his hips, the upturn of his gorgeous butt, his muscular thighs—but I was too eager, too impatient to have that big dick inside me. He wouldn’t let go of my boobs, so I kicked his horny thigh away from me so I could worm out of my skirt. And then there I was—naked and vulnerable!

“Come on, Gray,” I whined, making unsuccessful grabs for his penis, “fuck me. How much do I need to beg?”

“A lot,” he growled, and I could feel the smile at my nipple.

With one big shove, I removed him from my chest. I squirmed under him again and successfully squiggled his pants down over his hips. I took a moment to admire the globe of his ass with my hand. Curvy and muscular, I just had to squeeze it, then smack it.

“Ow,” he said mildly against my mouth. Then he slid inside me.

Dios mío! I knew he had a bigger cock than Brandon. But because I hadn’t been penetrated in so many years, at first it hurt. Gray must have thought about this, because he nudged it in inch by inch. I shuddered and humped him back, and soon he was fully inside me. He leaned on his forearms and breathed steam against my neck.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

“Okay?” I swiveled my hips against his. “Fuck me, pal!”

And so he did.

Like I said, it hurt a little at first. But my pussy juice more than lubricated his rod and before long I was so fired up, I was spearing myself on his thick length.

“Oh, do me, Gray, do me,” I muttered on and on.

I think, anyway. I really have no distinct memories beyond this amazing, muscular he-man pounding away at me so artistically, lunging inside me with such athletic precision. He was my entire world for several long minutes as I sucked on his neck, bit his shoulder, dug my nails into his trapezius, and locked my ankles together around his beautiful lower back.

When I smacked his butt again, his cock jerked inside me. This was telling to me. I did it again, and again. His balls, so full and retracted up against his body, slapped me with every lunge. I knew I’d hit on something good, so I kept it up, admiring the goosebumps under my palm.

He was loving it.

His erection spurted some pre-come inside me, adding to the lubrication. He held his torso up off me now, looking down at my eyes as a drip of sweat flicked off the tip of his nose.

“Elektra,” he growled. “You’re a beauty. I love you. You’re my property.”

I spanked him one more time, and he flooded my pussy with his seed. Eyes squeezed shut, he tossed his head back and uttered a low snarl. “Elektra . . . “

It was funny—I could feel it. The pulsing of his cock and the filling of my uterus with his potent, hot jizz. I just relaxed back into it at that point, my thighs sliding out of their grip around him, my hand rubbing his ass instead of striking it.

I encouraged him.

“That’s it, Gray. That’s good. Oh, so fucking good. I love you, babe. I love every cell of your being. Keep going. Fill me with your jizz. Flood me with your seed. That’s it.”

At last he tired, after what seemed like the most monumental orgasm I’d ever witnessed in a man. Laughing, he rolled off me. We lay with our heads on manila folders on the carpet, panting. I got up to pee in Slushy’s private bathroom, and when I returned, he hadn’t moved. His cock lay across his hip like a giant slug, moving as it deflated. His arm shielded his eyes from the autumn sun coming in the high windows. Great blocks of sun and shade decorated his torso. He was a perfect painting.

I curled back up next to him, cuddling my head into the pit of his arm.

“I didn’t tell you,” he said, still panting a bit, “the owner said we can buy the house.”

What? That was excellent! We loved that house so much, why purchase another one? “Oh, Gray,” I purred, rubbing my lips over the soft hair of his underarm, “things are finally going our way.” Except he’d have to clear out his weight room for Tiago, as I’d overtaken another bedroom for my home office.

He took his arm off his face and looked at me. “I’m doing that Ron Howard movie. I’ll only be gone a month, four weeks or so. I’ve got Sock Monkey to run the Hip Quiver.”