My Killer Vacation(58)

“I don’t want to stop.” She scoots another inch toward the edge of the sink and tugs on my hips, digs her nails into them. “I don’t want you to hold back, either.”

My sides start to heave, harsh breaths from my nose causing the steam to swirl in between us. Fingers fumbling for the condom in my pocket. Rip. Roll.

Jesus, I’m a bull waiting for the gate to open.

“Should we turn the water off?” she says, her focus zeroed in on my mouth.

“No.” I crowd in close, pressing her face into my shoulder, positioning myself at her warm, wet entrance with my other hand. When I’ve got just the head tucked inside paradise, I circle my hands around back of her and take two handfuls of ass. “If anyone comes home, the shower is going to muffle the sound of me bottoming out in this pussy.”

I drive forward, not slow, not fast, somewhere in between, and I don’t stop until I’m buried and I actually shout. While she sobs into my shoulder, I shout at the swiftness of my balls jacking up, throbbing against my undercarriage. And it’s no wonder, because she’s a dream. Like I knew she’d be, but a million times better. Slick and snug and pulsing. Despite the very real threat of coming too early, I can’t stop my hips from grinding her into the counter, trying to gain more ground inside of her. Needing all of her to be mine. Mine.

“You still want it rough, now that you feel what I’m working with?”

Her breath escapes in a rush against my shoulder. “Y-yes, please. Yes.”

“You’re too sweet between the legs to say please, Taylor. You just ask for Daddy and I’ll do the rest.” Yeah. And doesn’t that word make her clench like a motherfucker?

Thought so.

I bite down on the slope of her neck and begin thrusting. Fast. Hard. I have to bar a forearm around the back of her hips to keep her from slipping and hitting the mirror, but hell, she’s incredible. She lets her neck loosen and fall back so I’m looking right at her shaking tits while I pound in deep. The steam has made her shiny all over, plastered her hair to her neck and cheeks. God. God. I can’t get deep enough inside of this woman. The way she rolls her lower body into every surge of my hips is breaking me. Making me more frantic, turning my self-control to dust. Our flesh is smacking together, wet and eager, and I’m nearly using all the force I’ve got on her. Nearly.

If I keep this pace up, I’m going to come. It’s inevitable. We’re caught in a rhythm that’s only supposed to happen at the very end, at the top of the peak. Mentally, emotionally, I’m not ready yet, though. I need more of her. I haven’t absorbed enough of Taylor. So I slow down slightly, but continue to push my cock deep, deep, my right hand coming around front so I can play with her clit. She whimpers my name, both of us looking down to watch my thumb strum that beautiful nub. Faster and faster, her chest rising and falling with exertion, the fingers of her right hand spearing through my chest hair, twisting until I groan.

“Go on. Scrape me up, baby,” I growl on top of her mouth. “Fuck me up.”

She rakes her nails down my shoulders and I lose my grip on the slower pace, once again railing her on the sink, my thumb working overtime on that swollen button until finally, finally, she’s shuddering, crying out into our wet, messy kiss, her pussy convulsing around me. So tight that my ears start to ring and my hands move on their own, crushing her against me, my hips pressing her thighs wider, wider, so I can feel every little tremor. Oh my God. My God. This woman is a fucking drug. No, she’s the high. And I’m not done. I won’t be done.

“More,” I rasp, lifting her off the sink, no idea of my destination. Only that we need to stay in this bathroom. This private world of ours where tomorrow never comes. I carry her, mouth to mouth, across the marble floor. I might never let her feet touch the floor again, this fucking princess. I’m swallowing vows that are dying to be made. My cock is so stiff, I’m half delirious. It’s unacceptable that I haven’t given her all of me yet. All of me. She asked for it, didn’t she? Yeah.

I slide her down the front of my body, turning her to face the glass shower stall.

“Keep it dripping. I’m going back in.”

I’m not sure if she knows exactly what’s coming or if she just flattens her palms against the glass for balance, but it’s exactly what needs to happen. We’re so in sync, I briefly wonder if I’m dreaming. But no. No, she backs that ass up into my lap and I grind between her cheeks and almost blow over the perfect friction. It’s so good. There’s nothing more real than her. Than us.

Heart pounding wildly, breathing erratic, I yank Taylor up onto her tiptoes and slam into her from behind. I don’t muffle her scream in time. I don’t even bother. Nothing matters but her sodden cunt and the way she’s clawing at the glass, working her hips in jerking little circles, giving me a standing lap dance that has me groaning at the ceiling. “You trying to make me nut, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she gasps, those fragile muscles at the base of her spine flexing with the motion of her lower body, steam dappling her spine. Glorious. Beautiful. Perfection.

“Could have filled this condom ten times by now, Taylor, I just don’t want to stop.” I wrap her hair around my fist and pull back, raking my teeth hard up the side of her neck, closing my teeth around her ear, and Jesus, it makes her pulse wildly around my cock. Loving it. Loving the roughness. So I give it to her, no holds barred. I stoop forward, keeping her elevated on her tiptoes, cheek pressed to the glass of the shower stall, and fuck her hard enough to make her teeth clack together. “Do you want me to stop?”