into her.
“Think just because you’re a fucking President you can tell me what to do,” she gasped as his mouth roamed to her neck, biting into her skin and causing her body to arch into him. “No one tells me what the fuck to do.”
“Except when you’re being stubborn as hell,” he mouthed into her skin, raising himself up enough to pull at her pants. “And why the fuck are you wearing your boots.”
Even in the lustful, angry haze she was in, she knew it wasn’t a question. Using her heel, she pushed at the offending footwear, using every inch of strength she had to kick them off while they were still laced. Relief flooded her as first one, then the other dropped to the floor with a loud thud.
“You’re overdressed. Fix it,” she demanded, her fingers fumbling with the button on his jeans before giving up and reaching down the waistband. She was only slightly surprised to find he wasn’t wearing boxers, instead grasping his hardness and squeezing, forcing a guttural groan from his throat.
Ripping her hand off him, he stood and reached down, all but tearing her leggings off, taking her panties with them. His jeans followed, leaving him bare for her gaze before climbing atop her again. Poet’s hand resumed her exploration, pulling and caressing the tip of him, as his fingers plunged into her hard, stealing her breath.
“Fucking pain in my ass bitch, always doing shit the hard way,” he groaned, stretching her and spreading her wetness as she fondled him.
“Self-righteous jerk, always thinks he’s right,” she retorted, gasping as he circled her clit.
“Do you want my cock, Poet?”
“Fuck you, Titan.”
Accepting her answer, he took his erection in hand and placed it at her entrance, teasing her, using his head to wet her further. Arching an eyebrow at her, she glared back at him, and he plunged into her, hard, forcing a scream from her as she took all of him.
He was big, larger than Braeden could ever hope to be, not only in length but in width. And, as he seated himself, it was like he was made for her. It was fucking perfect, the way they fit, and she couldn’t help but roll her hips as he remained still, forcing her to adjust to him.
“Your pussy is so tight,” he moaned, pulling out slightly before thrusting back into her. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever been in. Heaven and fucking Hell, Poet. That’s what you are.”
Unable to answer for fear of something very un-Poet-like escaping her, she pulled at his arm, forcing his lips back to hers. He went easily, his hips moving against her, finding a steady rhythm of thrusting, her breath catching on each upstroke. She used her tongue to explore his mouth, to fuck him as he was fucking her. This was all new to her, he was new to her, and it exactly as he described it. Heaven and fucking Hell.
Poet’s hands trailed to his back as she broke the kiss, her breaths coming in bursts as he continued his movements. His speed began increasing and she knew her nails were scoring his back, could feel it breaking under her nails. Remembering Braeden’s protests, she started to withdraw her hands when he stilled.
“Don’t fucking stop.”
Three little words and she was close to exploding around him. Already her body was quickening around him and she hated it. She hated him, couldn’t fucking stand the man, but she didn’t want it to be over. Poet didn’t know what Titan was like in bed – and if she was only going to get him once, she was going to make it count.
“Stop for a second,” she whispered. To her surprise, he did, without hesitation. He peered down at her, his forehead scrunching in confusion.
“Why? I can feel your pussy pulsing around my cock, Poet. You’re close.”
She remained silent, not wanting to put the reason into words. It would be too close to a confession, too close to expressing fear or weakness if she did. Instead she waited for that pulsing to slow before nodding to him once more.
“Okay.”
“No, Poet,”
“Think just because you’re a fucking President you can tell me what to do,” she gasped as his mouth roamed to her neck, biting into her skin and causing her body to arch into him. “No one tells me what the fuck to do.”
“Except when you’re being stubborn as hell,” he mouthed into her skin, raising himself up enough to pull at her pants. “And why the fuck are you wearing your boots.”
Even in the lustful, angry haze she was in, she knew it wasn’t a question. Using her heel, she pushed at the offending footwear, using every inch of strength she had to kick them off while they were still laced. Relief flooded her as first one, then the other dropped to the floor with a loud thud.
“You’re overdressed. Fix it,” she demanded, her fingers fumbling with the button on his jeans before giving up and reaching down the waistband. She was only slightly surprised to find he wasn’t wearing boxers, instead grasping his hardness and squeezing, forcing a guttural groan from his throat.
Ripping her hand off him, he stood and reached down, all but tearing her leggings off, taking her panties with them. His jeans followed, leaving him bare for her gaze before climbing atop her again. Poet’s hand resumed her exploration, pulling and caressing the tip of him, as his fingers plunged into her hard, stealing her breath.
“Fucking pain in my ass bitch, always doing shit the hard way,” he groaned, stretching her and spreading her wetness as she fondled him.
“Self-righteous jerk, always thinks he’s right,” she retorted, gasping as he circled her clit.
“Do you want my cock, Poet?”
“Fuck you, Titan.”
Accepting her answer, he took his erection in hand and placed it at her entrance, teasing her, using his head to wet her further. Arching an eyebrow at her, she glared back at him, and he plunged into her, hard, forcing a scream from her as she took all of him.
He was big, larger than Braeden could ever hope to be, not only in length but in width. And, as he seated himself, it was like he was made for her. It was fucking perfect, the way they fit, and she couldn’t help but roll her hips as he remained still, forcing her to adjust to him.
“Your pussy is so tight,” he moaned, pulling out slightly before thrusting back into her. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever been in. Heaven and fucking Hell, Poet. That’s what you are.”
Unable to answer for fear of something very un-Poet-like escaping her, she pulled at his arm, forcing his lips back to hers. He went easily, his hips moving against her, finding a steady rhythm of thrusting, her breath catching on each upstroke. She used her tongue to explore his mouth, to fuck him as he was fucking her. This was all new to her, he was new to her, and it exactly as he described it. Heaven and fucking Hell.
Poet’s hands trailed to his back as she broke the kiss, her breaths coming in bursts as he continued his movements. His speed began increasing and she knew her nails were scoring his back, could feel it breaking under her nails. Remembering Braeden’s protests, she started to withdraw her hands when he stilled.
“Don’t fucking stop.”
Three little words and she was close to exploding around him. Already her body was quickening around him and she hated it. She hated him, couldn’t fucking stand the man, but she didn’t want it to be over. Poet didn’t know what Titan was like in bed – and if she was only going to get him once, she was going to make it count.
“Stop for a second,” she whispered. To her surprise, he did, without hesitation. He peered down at her, his forehead scrunching in confusion.
“Why? I can feel your pussy pulsing around my cock, Poet. You’re close.”
She remained silent, not wanting to put the reason into words. It would be too close to a confession, too close to expressing fear or weakness if she did. Instead she waited for that pulsing to slow before nodding to him once more.
“Okay.”
“No, Poet,”
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