Never Have I Ever (5 page)

His cock, now wet and shiny from his precome and her saliva, slipped from her lips. His balls were drawn tight against the base of his penis and she sucked them, one after the other, until Taylor’s breath was coming in rapid pants. “Jesus, Ana.”

“Shit, yes,” hissed the man on the television.

She went back to his cock, sucking him faster and harder as he bucked upward. She added her hand to the mix, twisting strongly with each pull until his body tightened and arched into a bow beneath her. His shout mingled with the other male groans of completion.

She’d never sucked him off ’til he came. God, what had they been missing this entire time? His semen splashed into her mouth, and he held her there, not allowing her to get away from his passion.

Not that she wanted to.

Ana sucked him until the spurts ended. Even then, his cock wasn’t soft, sitting nice and hard on her tongue.

She drew off of him, his cock flushed red. He looked wiped out, sprawled on the sofa cushions. His head was kicked back, an arm covering his eyes as he panted.

Ana worked her jaw to get the kinks out. Blowjobs were a strenuous business for both parties. She hoped he recovered quickly. The sight of that mostly erect cock made her crave it between her legs. The muscles in her sex clenched.

The sound of male and female moans had her turning her head to watch the big screen. The actors had shed their clothes, though the woman still wore her spike heels…of course. She was bent at the waist over the hood of her car while one man reamed her ass and the other pushed his cock between her lips. Ana shuddered. She and Taylor had never attempted anal, certainly never talked about it, but the thought of it made her more than a little hot.

As if she were in a trance, she stood and pulled off her T-shirt, tossing it on the ground. He removed his arm from over his eyes at her sudden motion, his gaze hooded as he watched her unsnap her bra and throw that aside too.

“Take off your clothes.” She wanted to see his body nude, watch the blue and purple lights of the television play over his flesh.

He uncoiled from the sofa and stripped his shirt and pants off as she wriggled out of the super-tight jeans she’d worn to catch his attention. She was about to push her panties down her legs when he wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her forward, arching her back and sucking first one, then the other nipple into his mouth. The heat of his mouth had her tipping her head back and moaning loudly. God, it felt so good. She tried to squirm, but his rough grip held her immobile as he feasted on her.

He slid one hand around and down her stomach to her panties. The tiny underwear was no match for his fingers. He had the crotch pulled aside and two thick fingers pushing inside of her in record time. “God you’re so wet,” he groaned.

“Duh,” she answered breathlessly. He slipped his wet fingers into the waistband and pushed the panties down, growling low in his throat when her pussy was bared to his gaze.

“I couldn’t see this that clearly in the car.” He cupped his hand over her naked mound protectively. “Is this for me?”

“You seemed to like it the one time I did it, so I thought—”

He pressed a kiss against her lips, ending her thought. “I like it, all right. I like it a lot.”

Taylor ended the conversation by turning her around in his arms so her back was to him. Confused for a second, she tried to pivot, but he stopped her by sitting on the couch again, pulling her down so she sat on his lap.

His hard cock nudged the small of her back as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “You can see the TV better this way, and I can still take care of you. You need to be taken care of, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“And you want to watch?”

Another nod.

A hand wound in her hair again and she jumped. Her stomach clenched when he pulled lightly so her neck arched. “I can’t hear you,” he said silkily.

A rush of moisture flooded her vagina. “Yes,” she whimpered.

“You’re a good girl,” the officer on the screen told the woman who was currently being hammered by his cock as she knelt, doggy style, on the side of the road.

“Good girl,” Taylor praised, parroting the movie, either deliberately or unconsciously, Ana wasn’t sure. Either way, it was hot as hell.

He arranged her legs so they fell on either side of his and lifted her up as if she weighed no more than a doll. He fit his cock to her entrance and pulled her down, a little rougher than he normally did.

There were definite benefits to this position, Ana realized as Taylor’s hands roamed over the front of her body. He fucked her harder, faster, and she leaned back, trying to use her legs to work his cock even deeper inside of her.

One of his hands held her by the breast, squeezing and rubbing the nipple, but also using the grip to move her up and down. The other hand sank into her pussy, easily finding her clit.

She closed her eyes, uncaring of what happened in the movie now as her husband fucked her to the climax that had been building since her last one. She tilted her head back, allowing him free access to her body as he hammered inside her.

Yeah, she really liked this position.

What had gotten into his wife?

You, stupid.

Har, har, har. Other than that.

Taylor stroked his hands up the front of her body as he fucked her. She was so soft, her body tight and clasping wet around him. The first time he’d gotten inside her, he’d felt like her pussy had been made for his cock. Though she had to work to take him at first, once he was inside her, she fit him like a warm, wet glove.

Her back was arched against him, her eyes shut as her head lolled on his shoulder. He could feel every inch of her sheath as it rippled around him. The sounds from the television were easy to disregard. What man could care about a fake porno when his arms were full of this reality? The overblown actress currently getting double fucked on the screen had nothing on the supple strength and delicate beauty of the woman in his arms.

The sound of a scraping foot was not as easy to disregard, and his eyes shot open. He momentarily froze as he caught sight of the man standing just inside the door to the kitchen, dripping snow on the ground from his wet down coat, a designer duffel hanging on his shoulder. Eli’s bright blue eyes were wide as he stared at the two of them locked together in an epic lap dance.

Taylor should have been outraged. He should have gotten up and yelled and freaked out on the man, regardless of the fact that they’d been friends forever. It didn’t matter that his hand covered Ana’s pussy, or that his other arm was locked across her breasts, giving her more protection than a bikini.

Yeah, that’s what he should have done. Instead his cock swelled, harder and thicker than it ought to have been given that she’d sucked him off not even fifteen minutes ago.

Eli took in the porno blaring across the big-screen TV and raised his eyebrow in question and speculation.

For one crazy second, Taylor considered it, his brain calculating the various reactions Ana would have to the proposal of a ménage with two dominating males. Outrage was the most likely response, followed by tears, hurt, dismay and disappointment.

Intrigued acceptance? Not. Likely.

And your cock did not just get impossibly harder at the mere thought of her succumbing.

His woman’s whimper at the cessation of his thrusting brought him back to the moment at hand, and he automatically dug his heels into the carpet to continue fucking her. Noticing the flutter of her eyelashes, he gave a quick shake of his head. Eli gave him a smile full of regret before he quietly withdrew from the room.

The instant the door closed behind Eli, Taylor bounced her harder on his cock, his mind entering into a zone where nothing existed but his orgasm. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so turned on, so ready to blow his come inside of anyone. Though she was normally as silent a lover as he was, now Ana was vocal enough that he knew exactly when her orgasm would hit her. Her moans came in increasing gasps, her head rolling against his shoulder as he forced her to take every inch of him.

He paused while her vagina clenched around him, milking his cock so hard, he thanked God that penises couldn’t bruise. He allowed her maybe fifteen seconds of respite before grabbing her around the waist, lifting her off his still-hard cock and tossing her down on the couch on her back.

Her eyelashes fluttered open. “Taylor?”

He clenched his jaw, barely able to formulate words, though he tried. “Need to come. Wanna see your face.”

Generous as always, she opened her arms to him.

Unfortunately, she didn’t move fast enough with her legs. Grunting like the caveman he was, Taylor grabbed her thighs with both hands and roughly pushed them apart. Still judging it to be not enough, he placed one over the back of the couch.

She gasped, but didn’t move to close them. Good. He wanted to see her whole labia opened up to him like a pretty pink present.

He didn’t mind pubic hair, but he did like Ana’s pussy shaved. It allowed him to see every inch of the perfection that she was, and made eating her out feel like he was putting his mouth in a creamy bowl of dessert. Her thighs were wet with her moisture, and he knew exactly how slick she was. No more foreplay needed, so he slammed his cock inside her to the hilt.

She gasped, her back arching. Maybe it was too much for her, but he didn’t even care, his entire selfish being focused on giving his mate pleasure and finding it himself.

He knew Eli was in the kitchen, probably sitting at the table where they’d just eaten. He knew his best friend could hear every noise they made out here. He knew he should probably take Ana to the bedroom and at least try to stifle their cries.

He knew all of that. And he didn’t care.

He drove his cock inside her again. “Who’s fucking you?” he asked, not at all quietly.

“You—oh God!”

“Say my name.”

“Taylor.”

He adjusted their bodies so he bumped against her exposed clitoris with every stroke. She let out a high, keening noise.

“Say it louder,” he demanded.

“Taylor!”

“Tell me to fuck you harder.”

“Fuck me harder,” she cried out, her voice filling the house.

He picked up the speed of his hips, hammering into her wet, willing little cunt. “Tell me to fuck you deeper.”

“God yes.”

“Say it.”

“Fuck me deeper.”

He rewarded her by leaning down to bite each of her nipples quickly, driving inside of her to his balls. Her breasts jiggled with every thrust of his hips, and he pushed her up the sofa until her head was hitting the sofa arm.

He didn’t care. Especially since she didn’t care, her voice rising in octave with every rough pounding he gave her. “Taylor, oh, yes, Taylor.”

Yeah, this was his woman, and she was screaming his name. Everyone would know that she was his woman.

He released his iron-hard grip on her leg to bring his fingers to her mouth. “Suck them.”

She complied immediately, which only made him a little more crazy. He slid the wet fingers down her body to pulse them against her clit as he stroked even rougher.

Her body arched so much beneath his, he wondered if she would throw him off. But no, it only drove him to subdue her by shoving himself far enough inside her that he was certain she would feel him in her throat.

He thrust deep and held himself there as she came again, this time allowing himself pleasure. When she’d thoroughly drained him, he flopped forward on top of her.

It was the slight wheeze he heard a few seconds—or maybe it was minutes—later, that told him he was crushing her. He’d never moved so fast. Taylor reared back on his legs, studying his wife anxiously. Her face and body were damp with perspiration…so was he, for that matter, so he had no idea whose sweat was whose. She looked exhausted, her eyes closed, lashes fanned out on her high cheekbones. Her body was flushed with hectic color, her legs spread, their bodies still joined together.

Bracing himself on the couch, he pulled out of her clasping body, taking a selfish moment to love the way it felt on his softened and sensitive cock. Her lashes fluttered open and she smiled at him languidly.

He barely noticed that. All he could see were the bruises his hands had left on her thighs, the way he’d fucked her up the couch until her neck was all scrunched up. He’d held that pixie mop of hair, pulled it tight as he guided her on his cock, bit her nipples…

Within earshot of another man. With the man who’d been best man at their wedding barely a year ago.

A hot rush of shame doused whatever residual arousal lingered in his blood. How could he have treated his sweet Ana like this? She was his wife, his everything. Some control. Some ultimate test.

You’ve barely been here half a day. And this is what you do to her? You’re failing.

She was trying to say something, but he shushed it away by layering soft, gentle kisses on her mouth. Words didn’t come easy to him, but he could try to convey his apologies within the caresses.

Her mouth softened below his, and he continued kissing her as he stood up. She locked her legs around his waist, her slender arms around his neck. Her pussy, wet from his juices and hers, rubbed against the flesh of his belly as he walked them out of the living room.

By all rights, his cock should have been completely spent, but the scent of both of them intertwined went to his head like a fine wine.

Too bad you can’t stop breathing.

He entered their room and laid her down on the bed. Taylor kissed her when she started to speak again. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Her drowsy eyes tracked him as he took care of her the only way he could at the moment, by bringing a wet, warm cloth from the bathroom and wiping the flesh he’d ravaged between her legs.

The flesh he wanted to ravage again.

Control. Calm.

He spooned up next to her and held her. If she noticed his erection poking her in the back, she was kind enough not to comment on his suddenly uncontrollable desire. By the time her breathing evened out, her eyes fluttering shut, he’d managed to dampen some of his arousal, and he slipped from the bed and grabbed a pair of boxers from the bureau before venturing out.